She laughed, breath sweet like coconut and banana. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Her hands lifted as if she were about to cup his cheeks, and he forced himself still. He couldn’t give in to this physical attraction any more than he could give in to the battle rage, but if she kissed him … Well, he might tell himself to pull away; whether his body would listen was a different matter entirely.

But instead of her fingers on his face, they plunged into his hair. He had to clench his jaw against a groan threatening deep in his chest.

Lips pursed, she frowned at a point above his left eyebrow. “This is the problem.”

The white streak in his hair. His fae mark.

She combed and pushed it to one side. “Urgh, I can’t even hide it. Your hair’s so thick.” She shook her head, attention all on his hairline. “I’ve never seen one so white and precise on someone so young before. No wonder they recognised you.” She smoothed it flat as if trying to use the rest of his hair to hide the offending streak. He knew from his own attempts that it would only spring up as soon as she removed her hand. “What happened? A blow to the head?”

He’d been keeping his gift hidden from the Navy for long enough that the prepared line came easily: “I had a nasty shock.”

Her eyebrows rose in query.

He took a long breath. Telling her the abbreviated version couldn’t hurt. It might even get her to trust him and if he wanted to get the crew on his side …

“When I was twenty, my father passed away.” Another long breath. She didn’t need to know how much he’d looked up to the man, seen him as a hero, wanted to be just like him.

“Oh.” A crease between her brows, she nodded faintly. Disappointed?

“That wasn’t the shock,” he hurried to add. “I wish that was the only thing.” He sighed softly. “After his passing, we discovered he’d racked up massive debts and …”

And he’d sold off parts of their land already, including an estate in the north, and various other items of value. All done without the rest of the family knowing. Then there was the discovery of a mistress and illegitimate son in Portsmouth.

That was more than she needed to know.

“Well,” he went on, “add in an absconding fiancée and being forced from our home, and I think it’s fair to say it was a difficult year.”

The fiancée had left months before Father’s death, and she hadn’t exactly broken his heart. The betrothal to Lady Avice Ferrers had been arranged by Mother and Father. It struck him later that Father had intended to use her dowry to clear his debts. No romance, simply a matter of family duty.