“Oh, I’m not giving up. I’m here, aren’t I? But I must make plans. My future is not what I’d thought.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw her begin to protest, so he added, with a smile, “Probably.”

Her jaw tensed, then released. Then, after a few moments, she said, “I like the sea.”

So did he, he realized, even with his queasy stomach. “You’re not seasick?” he asked.

“Not at all. Are you?”

“A little,” he admitted, which made her smile. He caught her eye. “You like when I am indisposed, don’t you?”

Her lips pressed together a bit; she was embarrassed.

He loved that.

“I do,” she confessed. “Well, not indisposed, exactly.”

“Weak and helpless?” he suggested.

“Yes!” she replied, with enough enthusiasm that she immediately blushed.

He loved that, too. Pink suited her.

“I never knew you when you were proud and capable,” she hastened to add.

It would have been so easy to pretend to misunderstand, to say something about how they had known each other all of their lives. But of course they had not. They had known the other’s name, and their shared destiny, but that was all. And Thomas was finally coming to realize that it was not much.

Not enough.

“I’m more approachable when I’m sotted?” he tried to joke.

“Or seasick,” she said kindly.

He laughed at that. “I’m lucky the weather is so fair. I’m told the seas are usually much less forgiving. The captain said that crossing from Liverpool to Dublin is often more difficult than the entire passage from the West Indies to England.”

Her eyes lit with interest. “That can’t be.”

Thomas shrugged. “I only repeat what he told me.”

She considered this for a moment, then said, “Do you know, this is the farthest I have ever been from home?”

He leaned a little closer. “Me, too.”

“Really?” Her face showed her surprise.

“Where would I have gone?”

He watched with amusement as she considered this. Her face moved through a number of expressions, and then finally she said, “You are so fond of geography. I would have thought you would travel.”

“I would like to have done.” He watched the sunset. It was melting away too quickly for his tastes. “Too many responsibilities at home, I suppose.”

“Will you travel if—” She cut herself off, and he did not need to be looking at her to picture the expression on her face precisely.

“If I am not the duke?” he finished for her.

She nodded.

“I expect so.” He gave a little shrug. “I am not sure where.”

Amelia turned to him suddenly. “I have always wanted to see Amsterdam.”

“Really.” He looked surprised. Maybe even intrigued. “Why is that?”

“All those lovely Dutch paintings, I think. And the canals.”

“Most people travel to Venice for the canals.”