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runs with,” Charlie went on. “Libertines and ne’er-do-wells, every one of them. They go jauntering about the countryside with nothing to fill their time but race meets, hunting trips and disreputable house parties. Face it, you’ll be trading one kind of nomadic existence for another, only now you’ll have no one to protect you.”
    “And what alternative do I have, at least for the present?” She spoke lightly, loath to let Charlie see her misgivings. “I have no marriage prospects. Even if you were mad enough to ask me, I could never think of you as anything but a brother—and I know you’re not mad enough to ask me, because how could you do that to poor Mary Halliday? She has scarcely a year and a half to go before she turns twenty-one.”
    He sighed and rubbed his jaw. “I’ll grant you that point. Even if it weren’t for Mary, I can’t imagine us as husband and wife. For one thing, it would be downright cruel to expect you to follow the drum when I know how badly you want to settle down. For another, you’re far too stubborn.” He glanced at her with a dissatisfied look. “You’re sure you can’t afford to hire a companion and set up your own establishment?”
    “Not even with the strictest economizing. Though perhaps I could be a companion. Do you think Mrs. Howard might be willing to take me on?”
    Charlie’s jaw dropped in an expression of comic incredulity. “Are you trying to insult me? First you tell me outright you refuse to marry me, and then you announce you’d prefer to live with that mushroom?”
    “I’m serious, Charlie. I could ask her—”
    Of course, it would mean having to go to America, where she would be an ocean apart from Charlie and the country she considered home. She doubted she’d have many chances to make friends her age, or the opportunity to meet eligible gentlemen. But at least she’d have some kind of security, looking after Mrs. Howard. She wouldn’t be alone. And it wasn’t as if she could have what she really wanted anyway. She couldn’t simply conjure up a husband, a house and a family out of thin air.
    “Mightn’t you work for someone else?” Charlie said.
    “Eventually, perhaps. But I’d have to apply for a position, and that would mean living with my uncle in the meantime. Not to mention that I have no references and precious few connections. If you’re worried my aunt’s reputation will damage my standing in society, I can’t imagine it’s likely to recommend me to an employer.”
    Charlie patted her arm. “Let’s not talk about it just now. The more I consider the matter, the more I’m convinced it’s too soon. You can’t have managed much sleep last night, and your loss is still fresh.”
    “We’ll have to talk about it sometime. We’re due to reach Liverpool in two weeks.” Rosalie stood and dusted off her skirts. “It’s either Uncle Roger or Mrs. Howard, because I have nowhere else to go.”
    * * *
     
    David could have insisted, due to his rank and consequence, on taking a permanent place at the head of the captain’s table. Instead, he’d asked Captain Raney to offer the other passengers a turn in the place of honor. Coming from any other man, the gesture would have been hailed as supremely gracious. In his case, however, his shipmates had apparently concluded he preferred to avoid the friendly conversation that took place around the captain to lurk in uncommunicative solitude at the far end of the table.
    And they were right.
    They must think him cold and proud. Well, let them think what they liked as long as it satisfied their curiosity. He would rather his fellow passengers dismiss him as haughty than question what other reason he might have to keep to himself.
    At thirty-one years of age, he preferred a private, predictable and largely uncomplicated existence. He moved in a well-established pattern, spending most of the year in London and removing to his country seat, Lyningthorp, when Parliament recessed. He dined at