Mr. Scott shook his head, having followed Joseph’s gaze. “The poor lost souls are in need of much instruction, Lord Colville. But I am happy to report that Mrs. Robb is up to the task. She is indeed a wonderful role model for those in our midst who haven’t had the proper training in what is acceptable.”

“And what, Mr. Scott, is unacceptable about removing one’s hat in order to enjoy a few moments of sunshine?” The question was out before Joseph could stop it.

The man’s mouth hung open as he struggled to utter his next comment.

Mrs. Robb stepped in front of Mercy and peered down at her with undisguised irritation. “You are to be a good example to the younger ladies, Mercy. But thus far you are leading them astray.”

Joseph couldn’t hear Mercy’s response, but from the dip of her head she’d obviously accepted the harsh words of condemnation.

“What shall I do with you?” Mrs. Robb went on.

Joseph strode toward the women. He had no idea what he planned to do, and that other part of him again warned that he had no business interfering with the brides. Nevertheless, his feet carried him down the deck, his soles echoing with the indignant thud of his heartbeat.

“Lord Colville.” Mr. Scott’s choppy steps rushed after him. “At the very least, may we have the honor of your company this eve for dinner in the passenger salon?”

At a cord cutting across the deck, Joseph stopped abruptly, causing Mr. Scott to bump into him. “My sincere apologies, my lord” came a quick response behind him.

“What is this?” Joseph took hold of the cord. His question carried so that it drew the attention of the women, who stood only a dozen paces away.

Seeing him there, Mrs. Robb sniffed. “It is rope, Doctor, as you can plainly see.”

“I am quite aware what it is, madam. But why is it here?”

“I should think that would be quite obvious.” Mrs. Robb glared at him as if he were a common ruffian coming to prey upon her charges.

Mr. Scott sidled next to him. “Mrs. Robb, have you met our highly esteemed ship’s surgeon, Lord Colville, Baron of Wiltshire?”

At the mention of his title, Mrs. Robb curtsied, even if her expression didn’t change. Mercy and the other young women turned wide eyes upon him.

He found himself looking directly at Mercy. Up close and with the bright afternoon sunshine upon her, he could distinguish a slight dusting of freckles upon her nose and a rosy pink in her cheeks.

“Miss Wilkins.” He nodded. “How is Sarah today? As I do not see her on deck, am I to assume she is still feeling ill?”