Page 46

Despite her outward composure, she was on the verge of either hysterical tears or frenetic laughter—perchance both.

Mr. Amzil, as saturated as Devin, lingered near the bottom of the gangway.

Ah, the messenger.

“Please let the captain know we shall await him outside his cabin,” Devin said.

Mr. Amzil’s kind gaze shifted between Trinity and Devin before he broke into a toothy grin.

“Yes, sahib. Right away, sahib.” He climbed three treads before turning halfway and calling, “Congratulations.”

Devin took Trinity’s arm to steady her as they stumbled toward Captain Breckett’s quarters.

Even her stomach rebelled at the churning motion.

She slid Devin a sideways glance.

A muscle ticked in his jaw, a testament to his rigid self-control. As long as he did not cast up his accounts during the ceremony. What a retelling that would make.

That thought took her aback.

Lord, the entire situation was like a bad gothic novel.

In truth, she would rather not explain why she and Devin married.

I was stranded in Morocco, possibly at risk of being abducted and sold into slavery.

Devin wanted his mother to stop meddling and trying to arrange a marriage for him.

Two perfectly wonderful reasons for agreeing to spend the rest of your life with someone you scarcely know, yes?

Trinity clenched her teeth and hands against a nervous giggle.

When she’d joined the captain in his quarters earlier today, she could not have imagined that she would be returning in a few hours to exchange wedding vows with Devin.

“I am afraid Sir Godfrey has retired for the night, so our only witnesses shall be Mr. Alderton and the captain.”

“I suppose that is fine.”

What did she know of such things?

“May I ask your full name and how old you are, Trinity?”

Trinity stared at him for a heartbeat.

Good Lord, he was marrying her without knowing such basic details.

“Trinity Samantha Honoria Shepard Ablethorne. All the girls from Haven House and Academy were given Shepard—an altered version of Shepherd—as their name in honor of the childless proprietress, Mrs. Hester Shepherd, just as all of us received a silver cross when we left the academy.”

“The one you were wearing earlier today?” He gestured toward the area where she had pinned the cross this morning for Mrs. Peagilly’s service.

“Yes.” She nodded. “Oh, I shall be six and twenty in December.”

Outside the captain’s quarters, Devin pulled Trinity into his arms and pressed a swift kiss to her trembling lips.

“I am sorry this is rushed and not more romantic.”

Despite the tremor his kiss sent through her and the surge of desire heating her blood, she curled her toes in her boots and remained aloof.

“It is not as if we are wedding for love, Devin. Our union is based on desperation on my part and convenience on yours. Let’s not pretend it is anything else.”