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Good heavens.

Did that throaty voice belong to her?

“That more than sufficed, sweeting. Much more of that, and I promise, our marriage would’ve been consummated.”

“Oh.”

That was unexpected.

Still, she could not prevent a tiny spark of feminine pride.

In a deft movement, Devin maneuvered her off of him, then rose from the bunk. One arm braced on the upper berth, he gazed down at her.

“I need to freshen up. Breakfast with me afterward?”

His abrupt withdrawal momentarily stunned her. Somewhat mollified at his invitation, she brushed the hair off her face and nodded.

“I would like that.”

How could she refuse?

This man was her husband, and Trinity wanted to make this unconventional marriage work.

His answering grin would’ve enchanted the goddess Venus herself from the cloud she reclined upon. And Trinity, a mere mortal, could not resist his charisma. He had slowly been bewitching her since she helped him that first night aboard the ship.

Devin straightened, then stretched his arms wide. His muscles must be stiff from the cramped quarters and Trinity’s weight upon him for God only knew how long. Mayhap all night. “I shall return in half an hour. Does that give you enough time for your ablutions?”

“Yes.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bunk, exposing most of her calves.

A mischievous smile playing around the edges of his mouth, Devin retreated a step, allowing her to stand.

“Trinity?”

She gazed up at him, this man who was now her spouse. How easy it would be to love him. But could she trust him? Odd that love came easier than trust.

“I shall be a good husband to you.” He drew a finger along her jaw, his expression tender and sincere. “I vow it.”

How Trinity wanted to believe him—wanted to believe this forced marriage of convenience could turn into something more. What had started as a solution to a mutual problem might become an answer to prayer—a blessing even. But that was the stuff and nonsense of which fairytales were made, not real life.

“And I shall try to be a good wife.”

And she would.

How horrible the many years stretching before her might be if she grew bitter and shrewish. In truth, she was not certain what constituted a good wife, having no example to follow.

Surely, it could not be all that challenging.

Should she tell Devin now that cooking wasn’t her greatest skill?

Perhaps not just yet.

She did not want to ruin this enchanted thing between them.

“Then, I would say, Mrs. Everingham, that we are off to a grand start.”

A knock on her door caused them to swing their heads toward the panel. Though they were married, heat swept her from waist to hairline. This marriage business would take some getting accustomed to.

“Yes?” she called.

“Captain had a wedding breakfast prepared for you and Mr. Everingham, lady,” came Mr. Amzil’s familiar voice. “It awaits you in the saloon.”

“Thank you.” She met Devin’s gaze. Did everybody know they’d married last night? “Everyone is going to think…”

She could not say it aloud. Likely everyone aboard the ship except Gladys and Georgie thought they knew what had happened in this tiny cabin last night.

Devin cupped her chin, grazing his thumb over the small indentation.

“We know the truth. That is all that matters.” Devin’s expression grew grave.

“We must always be honest with each other, Trinity. Must always communicate what is in our hearts and make every effort to understand, support, and respect the other, even when we are angry or disappointed. I promise I shall. Can you do the same?”

Such earnestness riddled his tone and emphasized the contours of his face that she could not deny him. Nor could she make such a sweeping promise because the truth of it was that she did not know if she could. So she settled on the truth, which was what he had asked for first.

“I shall try, Devin. I truly shall.”