By now they were the only two people on this side of the deck. It was dark. Lady Exner couldn’t weigh more than ninety pounds. In an instant he could punch her into a daze to prevent an outcry, then toss her overboard. When Regan Reilly came back he could claim that Exner had gone in to use the ladies’ room, then get rid of her the same way. Who would suspect him? They’d just met. He’d come alone. Reilly and Exner had come out onto the deck alone . . .

Should he? ...

Yes.

The perfect opportunity didn’t repeat itself. They were at the darkest point of the deck. Cameron drew back his free hand.

And heard footsteps.

Across the bow, from the starboard side of the ship, a couple was approaching. He could hear their voices before he saw their silhouettes.

“Nora, you’re not dressed warmly enough. Let’s go back inside.”

As they came closer Hardwick saw that it was the same couple he had followed onto the ship this morning. When they saw him and Lady Exner standing at the rail, they turned wordlessly and retreated.

The moment had passed. It had also taught Cameron that there was no way he could risk trying to get rid of Lady Exner and Regan Reilly on a public deck. He would have to find another solution.

Chapter 18

VERONICA AND REGAN stopped at the small piano bar for a nightcap on their way back to the suite. “I need a little something to chase the chill from my bones, dear Regan, and I think a nip of Scotch would do the trick.” Veronica grabbed seats surrounding the piano and grew misty-eyed as the tuxedo-clad musician played selections from Phantom of the Opera. “Sir Gilbert would have loved that show,” she whispered in Regan’s ear.

A half hour later, after Veronica had made requests for “I Love You, Truly,” and “Memory,” they returned to their quarters, where the steward had already turned down the beds.

“The arms of Morpheus should have plenty of room for both of us tonight,” Veronica crowed, “and since I haven’t gotten any other offers, Mr. M will have to do.”

It was at that moment that Regan knew that Veronica had indeed succeeded in chasing the chill from her body. As Regan undressed and moved in and out of the bathroom, Veronica continued her monologue, undeterred by the sound of the faucet running.

“And do say a prayer for dear Gilbert. I must admit he was a bit of an agnostic, but he did make an annual contribution to the Church of England and always sent the local minister a Christmas offering.”

Regan walked up the three steps to the living room area and gratefully got under the sheets in her own bed, wondering how Veronica had managed to learn so much about Sir Gilbert during their two-week marriage.