Patricia Potter by Rainbow

from his face. “A gambler’s charm…well, it’s as worthless as fool’s gold.”
    “A profound statement, Miss Meredith,” he replied. “I’ll take it to heart.”
    If you have one, she wanted to say, but she had gone as far as she should. Much farther, in fact. The last thing she’d intended was for him to deem her biting comment profound, even if he had done so mockingly. And there was still a glint of interest in his eyes.
    She was saved by the timely arrival of Opal, who fluttered her eyelashes shamelessly at the captain. Meredith quickly excused herself.
    “Weighty matters, Miss Meredith?” Quinn asked courteously.
    Meredith, steeling herself against yet another barb she longed to throw at him, laughed lightly. “Of course, Captain. I must choose my dress for our arrival tomorrow, and Daphne’s going to help me with a new hairstyle.”
    Daphne! Damn, Quinn thought. This was the perfect opportunity to mention the girl, but Meredith was already disappearing through the doorway, leaving him with Opal.
    He turned his most charming smile on her. “I hope you and your niece will join me for dinner tonight.”
    “I’d be delighted,” Opal said. “I’ll ask Meredith.”
    He bowed graciously. “Eight, then.”
    Cowardly or not, Meredith was not going to have dinner with the blackguard. She knew foolishness when she indulged in it, and he brought out more than a little in her. He challenged her, and she longed to respond in kind, to meet barb for barb, and mockery for mockery, but she could not afford to do so. He had the damnable ability to slice her protective layers to shreds. If it was only herself involved, she might risk more. But there was Lissa to consider. And the Underground Railroad. And the people she could help.
    So she pleaded fatigue and lack of appetite, hating herself for retreating, yet knowing it was the only wise course. She was relieved they would arrive in Vicksburg tomorrow. Relieved and yet regretful too. She wished she knew why she felt a ridiculous sense of loss.
    Her aunt decided to accept the invitation, despite her niece’s refusal and pointed comment about associating with gamblers. Opal’s opinion of Captain Devereux had undergone a great transformation under his not inconsiderable charisma. He came from such a good family, she declared. And he was an absolutely charming man, even if he was a gambler. Many gentlemen, she justified, gambled.
    It made Meredith sick. Devereux was an unscrupulous slave owner, and charm did nothing to alter that fact, she kept telling herself.
    After Aunt Opal left for dinner, she nibbled at some food she had ordered for the room. She then sent Daphne to see to Opal’s clothes since they would be disembarking the next day. But that was only an excuse. She wanted, more than anything, a few moments to go up on deck. Everyone, she knew, would be eating, and she would go to the rear of the steamboat, away from the windows and the gaiety of diners and the rapscallion smile of its captain.
    Her sausage curls were still in place, her dress as frightful as the others. She smiled slightly as she thought of how carefully Daphne had implied that she looked frumpy.
    “Perhaps,” Daphne had said hesitantly, “I could do your hair another way.”
    Meredith’s heart reached out to the girl. Meredith the woman wanted to say yes. Meredith the pretender had to say no.
    “I like it as it is,” she said testily, but her tone softened at Daphne’s crestfallen expression. She wished she could confide in the girl, but Daphne was still too new, too frightened. It would take time—perhaps months—for Daphne to trust her. And she could do nothing until the trust was there.
    Meredith put on her cloak over the dress. She didn’t need it in this weather, but she felt partially invisible with it on. As she did the other morning, she slipped out the door and headed for the rear of the boat.
    Meredith didn’t know how long she stood there, watching the churning water,