Mercy was afraid Mrs. Robb might force her to remain there too. Eventually, though, she gave Mercy permission to return to Miss Lawrence’s stateroom, but not without a withering glare that made Mercy feel dirty down to the core. She was mortified all over again to realize that if Mrs. Robb assumed she was ruining herself with Dr. Colville, then others must think so as well.

With the excessive heat of the tropics, she was helping to cool Miss Lawrence’s face when the door banged open and Dr. Colville filled the frame.

Mercy leaped to her feet, searching for any sign of harm. His shirt was disheveled, his waistcoat unbuttoned, and his hair flattened to his head.

“How do you fare?” he asked breathlessly as though he’d just been running.

The question took Mercy by surprise. “Never mind me, sir.” She had to restrain herself from circling him and making sure he had no hidden injuries. “I’ve been having visions of you cut to pieces by the mutineers and thrown to the sharks as bait.”

He grinned. “I’m glad to know you’ve been worried.”

“What d’ye expect, sir?” She tried to keep her voice light, but her heart raced with a strange anxiety over his well-being. “Disappearing all these long hours and leaving me to wonder what became of you?”

Coal soot mingled with perspiration on his forehead and neck, making him appear more rugged than aristocratic. He didn’t immediately reply but instead seemed to take his time studying her face, as though the sight of her might somehow soothe him.

She soothe him? She silently chided herself for so prideful a thought. “Can you tell me how it goes?” She pulled her thoughts from a place she didn’t want them wandering. She had no business thinking of him in any capacity other than their roles as doctor and assistant.

Before she allowed herself the pleasure of staring at him any longer, she reached for the pitcher of water she’d left beside Miss Lawrence’s bed.

She could feel his gaze following her every movement. “We rounded up the insurgents,” he replied, “and threw them into a makeshift brig. Captain Hellyer has charged them with mutiny on the high seas, and they are to be kept manacled and confined until they can be tried for their crimes.”

“Are there many of them?”

“Not the entire crew, but enough that we’ll be shorthanded forthwith.”

She poured from the pitcher into Miss Lawrence’s tin cup, conscious he was still watching her. “Then we’re stuck here on the sea?”

“We’ve come up with a plan, having asked that any man among the passengers who is willing shall volunteer to help until a replacement crew can be acquired in the Falklands.”

The news so startled Mercy that some of the water sloshed over the side of the cup. “You’re in earnest?”

He nodded.

“Did the men volunteer?”