Page 87

“Mr. Rosser?” I stared him up and down uneasily. “I wasn’t aware you were commissioned. At least, not in this way.”

Rosser stared at me for the briefest of instants, then a smile crept up his right cheek. There was a dimple there, one I’d never noticedbefore—likelybecause of the beard.

He parted his lips to say something coy, but he caught himself.

“I fear you have mistaken me for my brother,” he said with a grudging laugh and a low bow. “Samuel is my twin. My name is Benedict, First Lieutenant of Her Majesty’sDefiance.”

It was my turn to stare. “Samuel Rosser is your twin?”

“The very same.” Benedict straightened and closed the distance between us, stopping a respectful pace away. “I gather he never mentioned me?”

“No.” I peered at the man, perplexed. They looked so alike, from the shape of their lips to the slightly haunted look behind their eyes. It was uncanny.

I drained my glass and, though my cheeks were already warm, snagged another from a passing tray.

Benedict faced the ballroom as guests began to clear the dance floor and the music grew more pronounced. “That does not surprise me, given my station. And how he lost his commission.”

I looked at him sideways. “Pardon?”

Benedict tapped at his collar, with its pips. “He was Her Majesty’s, same as I.”

Unease prickled across my shoulders. It wasn’t just from the word ‘was’ or the implication of an unfortunate event in Samuel’s past. It stemmed from the dawning understanding that the man before me was properly in Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. The Navy that hung any pirates who crossed their path.

What if Benedict Rosser recognized Demery? What if he realized who, and what, I was? The Navy needed Stormsingers too.

I drained my second glass and stared at the berries at the bottom, as if they could answer my questions.

Benedict still spoke. “But there was arather…distastefulaffair, you see. When it came out, Samuel was forced to resign.”

That snapped my attention back to the lieutenant. “Oh?”

Benedict cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “I ought not speak of it.”

“Yes, you should,” I protested. “Your brother’s been unfortunately involved in my life, Mr. Rosser. Tell me what you know.”

“Unfortunately involved?” Something opaque darted through Benedict’s eyes, then cleared into a deep concern. “Whatever do you mean by that? Has he been untoward with you?”

My unease compounded with a blush. “Untoward? No.”

Benedict’s eyes flicked to the dance floor, where couples were gathering for another slow waltz. “Come, dance with me.”

I started to protest, but he’d already plucked my glass from my hands and set it on the pillar’s square base. With a gentle touch to my back and a self-assured smile, he swept me out onto the dance floor.

My heart rose into my throat, but there was no instinct to pull back, no true displeasure at his insistence. That should have struck me as odd, but I was too distracted by his words and the handsomeness of his face. I let him take my hand and my waist, and we joined the waltz.

Music. Whirling skirts. I momentarily lost myself in them and the task of remembering myfeet—thewine did nothelp—butI soon settled into the rhythm. I’d spoken the truth when I told Demery my father had wanted me to marry up, and my governess had been a serviceable dancing instructor.

“My brother,” Benedict began, “was always a troubled boy. Prone to outbursts, no matter how he battled them. We went to the Naval Academy together and served as midshipmen side by side. But when we took our lieutenant’s exams, we parted ways. It was hard for the both of us. We had never been apart before, you see. Twins. Brothers. But we were men by then, with our own paths.”

Benedict’s hand tightened on my side, guiding me deeper into the dancers. He’d gotten closer nowtoo—instinctive,perhaps, given he shared such personal history. His chest pressed into mine and I felt each movement of his strong legs against my skirts as we turned, stepped, turned. There was danger to that closeness, but I couldn’t convince myself to pull away, even though I knew I should. So why didn’t I? My lack of willpower felt like inebriation, but I hadn’t drunk enough for that.

Benedict’s gaze sharpened on my face and my ponderings fled. He smiled, curious and polite. I blushed, bemused. And we spun on.

“Without me beside him,Sam…strayed.”Tightness entered Benedict’s voice and I thought he might not go on, then he said in a rush, “He had a child by his captain’s wife.”

My hands slackened. I would have stopped dancing altogether except for Benedict’s oddly compelling touch. Our hips brushed closer. “He what?”

Benedict looked down at me, discomfort and regret written across his face. He had all Samuel’s appeal, but I saw a depth to Benedict that Samuel didn’thave—emotion,raw, and urgent to the point that I might have thought it studied, if there hadn’t been such honesty in his eyes. He had a uniform too and, it was becoming increasingly clear, a good name.