Page 59 of My Fair Lord

“What makes you say I have no brother?” he asked, all the nerves in his body standing to attention.

“I just assumed that you didn’t, I suppose. Do you?”

Ned turned so that he was looking over the railings onto the deck below. He had walked into this snare without realising, most probably without Florence even realising she was setting one. What did it matter now if he told her a little of his past? He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I am the youngest son of four, though only the second to survive infancy. My only remaining brother was my elder by ten years. We quarrelled bitterly for most of our lives. He always disapproved of me. He thought that a good thrashing would see me mend my nature and encouraged my father to beat me on every occasion he could. It didn’t work, of course, but the thrashings I endured for the most minor of indiscretions gave me a hatred of seeing unnecessary aggression. That’s why I went for Carver Clarke the way I did.”

Florence gripped his forearm. “You have no need to justify that. I have taken issue with many of the things you have done, but taking care of Alfie is not one of them. That brute deserved everything and more.”

Her sense of outrage swelled his heart. It was obvious that she really cared for Alfie’s welfare even though he was a stranger to her, and was of a different race and a lower class. A woman with such a heart was rare and valuable.

“As soon as our father started to fall ill, we knew that eventually we would go our separate ways. On the day following the funeral, I walked out of the house and have not returned since. I am sure I could have entered a profession that Jasper would approve of, and tried to mend the rift, but I didn’t want to. If I’m being completely honest, I chose the life I chose knowing he would hate hearing reports of what I was doing. A secret part of me always hoped he would find himself in need of my help, but he never did.”

He waited for her to call him petty or vindictive, or any of the names other members of the family had called him, but she rested her hand on his arm and turned her face to his, her eyes packed with sorrow.

“I’m sorry your brother was so cruel to you. Perhaps one day you’ll reconcile.”

Ned swallowed, whether from the gentle pressure of her hand on his sleeve or the words, he wasn’t quite sure. “That’s not going to happen.”

“But it could. Don’t give up hope.”

“It’s not a matter of hope.” Ned heard the crack in his voice. He gripped the railing with both hands. “My brother died some months ago. I am afraid there is no reconciliation.”

Florence didn’t speak. She simply slid her hand along his arm until she reached his fist, coiled tightly around the railing. She covered it with hers and held it there until he felt the tension in his fingers loosen. Unconsciously, he leaned in towards her, only realising when she did the same that their upper arms were touching. It would be so easy to slip an arm around her waist. So easy to draw her head onto his shoulder. So easy to kiss her…

A lump began to form in Ned’s throat.

“If you discover that you do need my services with regard to your brother, they are at your disposal,” Ned said quietly. “Though I imagine you would need to decide which role you would like me to take, as I doubt very much I could pretend to be a viscount and then enter a gambling den to retrieve your family heirlooms.”

Florence smiled. “We don’t have any family heirlooms worth gambling. That’s Daddy’s whole point. No jewels.”

Her humour and rationality had returned and though their conversation had been about dark matters, Ned felt unburdened.

“Miss Wakechild, you are your father’s greatest jewel,” he said quietly.

It was a dreadful cliche, but her lips curved into a smile. He did the thing he had sworn he wasn’t going to do and kissed her.

It was quick, his lips just grazing hers, but it lit a furnace inside him. It was over in seconds and left him wanting more. He looked down at her, his heart thumping.

She put her hand to his lips.

“Mr Blake…” she began.

She never finished the sentence, because the touch of her fingers on his already sensitive lips was irresistible. He drew her close and kissed her again, more thoroughly. She gave a little moan in the back of her throat which sent Ned’s senses spinning. She melted into his arms and he held her tightly, wanting to sear the moment into his memory forever. They stood like that for what seemed like an eternity, until Ned finally broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

“I thought you weren’t going to kiss me,” Florence murmured in a husky voice.

Ned smiled, his lips still throbbing from the touch of hers.

“I wasn’t going to kiss you in the state you were in. That would have been for the wrong reasons. This is because I feel close to you and I wanted to. Remember, when you find a husband, that intimacy is more than physical,” he said softly, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

“Let me take you back to your cabin. Escort you there, I mean,” he clarified hurriedly in case she thought he was intending to enter it with her. He offered his arm again and she took it. They walked in silence to the first-class cabins. His heart and stomach pulsated whenever Florence’s arm brushed against his or her perfume wafted to his nostrils.

At her door, Florence gave Ned’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “For everything you’ve done, and what you didn’t do. I hope I will see you tomorrow. I’ll send Dottie with a message.”

She closed the door. Ned took a shuddering breath and filled his lungs before they exploded.