The Perfect Wife by Victoria Alexander Page B

see around him. “Is Matt here?”
    “The capt’n had business to see to in Paris. We’re to pick him up in a few weeks in Marseilles.”
    “Oh, dear.” She drew her brows together in disappointment and dismay.
    “But don’t you worry none. He’d be more than happy to know you were on board. He always said, if you ever had need of it, you could consider this ship your own.”
    “Mine?”
    “In a manner of speaking.” Simon grinned. “The capt’n‘s talked of you a lot through the years. Always said he’d see you again someday.”
    Simon leaned low, his words soft against her ear. “He named this ship the
Lady B
, you know.”
    “I noticed,” she said wryly.
    “It’s an honor.” His gruff tone chastised her.
    “I know that, and I am truly honored, but...” She glanced behind her. Wyldewood was still on the dock, now talking to a member of the ship’s crew. She didn’t have much time. Sabrina nodded toward the
wharf. “I have someone traveling with me.”
    Simon’s eye’s widened in surprise. “I didn’t hear you’d gotten yourself a new husband.” A distressed frown drew his sandy brows together. “Wills should have mentioned that to me when we arranged your passage. I daresay the capt’n won’t be none too pleased about this. Ah, well, nothing to be done about it, I suppose.”
    “Simon, I am not married,” she said sharply. Shock colored his face, and she could clearly read his thoughts. “Don’t you even think that, Simon. Lord Wyldewood is accompanying me through no fault of my own. Believe me, I didn’t want the man along, but I appear to be trapped for the time being. Is there a cabin you can put him in?”
    Simon directed his words to her, but his thoughtful gaze lingered on Wyldewood, standing on the dock. “We’ve got several passenger cabins. The capt’n was thinking of making this ship strictly for the transport of people. There’s room for him.”
    He studied Wyldewood for a long, silent second. “Do you want me to throw him overboard once we get to sea?”
    “Good Lord no!” Sabrina cried. She glanced at Wyldewood and grinned. “At least not right away.”
    Simon offered her a broad smile in return. “But I gather it would be acceptable if we made his voyage a wee bit uncomfortable. He’s a tall, broad man, and I’ve a cabin that will suit him—if he’s not too particular about standing upright.”
    Sabrina laughed. “It sounds perfect. Simon, the way I feel about that gentleman right now, making his life uncomfortable is more than acceptable, it’s positively delightful!”
    Wyldewood strode up the gangplank. Sabrina realized she still hadn’t warned Simon. “He knows nothing about my past and he mustn’t find out. And if I am somewhat more reserved than I used to be, especially around him, please don’t comment on it.”
    Simon eyed her quizzically but said nothing. She would have some explaining to do to Simon and, later, to his captain. She wondered how long it would be before Wyldewood too insisted on explanations. He drew nearer, and Sabrina sighed in resignation.
    Perhaps it would be easier to have him thrown overboard after all.

    Nicholas’s gaze scanned the ship and settled on Lady Stanford, earnestly talking to a hardy sailor. The woman was an enigma. He’d learned the eventual destination of the ship was Alexandria. What kind of business could she possibly have in Egypt?
    “Welcome aboard, my lord.” The big man greeted him, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Nicholas narrowed his eyes slightly. Good Lord! The man was American! He glanced upward at the main mast and tightened the muscles of his jaw at the sight of the flag fluttering in the breeze. The whole damn ship was American! That woman had condemned him to weeks aboard an American ship, surrounded day and night by bloody Americans. Nicholas liked Americans only slightly more than he liked the French. And he was not fond of the French.
    Nicholas gritted his teeth and forced his