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L aughter and chatter echoed through the dining saloon as everyone ate the final course of dinner.

Diana glanced down to the end of the table she was seated at.

Devons was speaking with a man who accompanied them on the port-tasting excursion.

Diana wondered what they were discussing.

Devons smiled and smacked the man on the back.

The man let out a bellowing laugh that was drowned out by all other noises in the room.

Frowning, she looked down at her plate. Devons hadn’t spoken more than a greeting to her since Porto.

Had she done something wrong? It irked her that she was so worried about the distance between them when he seemed content.

Everyone started to stand. Messina, who was seated next to her, offered his arm. She smiled at the attractive count.

He escorted her to the main saloon. “I shall return after I visit the smoking saloon.”

Diana nodded. “Thank you.”

After he left, Diana walked back out the door of the saloon and made her way to the weather deck, seeking air.

She stood at the railing, enjoying the wind on her face.

A handful of other passengers wandered about, and she smiled at them but didn’t engage them any further.

It disconcerted her how much not speaking with Devons bothered her.

She frowned, knowing her feelings were foolish.

The man lived a vastly different life than she did.

This infatuation she had with him was something he dealt with all the time from women in London.

They’d agreed to a friendship and nothing more.

Diana needed to be happy with that. Yet for some reason, she was skeptical that he didn’t feel more.

Their kiss continued to linger in her mind.

A loud sigh escaped her. She was tired of thinking about Devons.

Diana needed to return to the saloon. Her aunt and Messina would be looking for her.

As she turned, she spied a man smoking a cigar.

Her eyes narrowed. It was Devons, standing at the railing.

He’d said nothing, instead choosing to watch her contemplate life.

Annoyed, she marched over to him and said, “Why aren’t you talking to me? ”

He brought the cigar to his lips and took another puff. “I have no idea what you mean, Diana.”

Well, at least they hadn’t resorted to being formal with each other. “You have barely spoken to me since Porto.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his black hair. “What do you want me to say?”

“There is a distance between us, and I feel like you are intentionally creating it.”

Tension swirled around them. He stamped out his cigar. “I apologize that I have no interest in watching Messina and Monroe flirt with you.”

“Are you jealous?” she asked, the words escaping her before she had time to think if they were appropriate.

He frowned before stepping closer to her. “How could I not be?”

A mad thought sprung into her mind. She wanted to declare that she chose him for her flirtation. As if reading her thoughts, he said, “I want you, Diana, but I believe we both know any interlude between us would only lead to trouble.”

She didn’t understand him. He had dozens of liaisons, probably more. “Are you worried I will become too emotionally involved? That I’m not sophisticated enough to be one of your lovers.”

He was silent for a minute and Diana stopped herself from demanding he say something.

Eventually, he said, “I’m not the right man for you.

Have your fling or flirtation with someone you never have to see again.

Nothing on this trip is real. But when you return to London, you and I will have to see each other often because of the Historical Society for Female Curators.

I don’t want any awkwardness to exist between us. ”

Diana frowned at him. “So, you do think I’m not worldly enough for you.”

Hurt and embarrassment welled in her, and not wanting Devons to see any of it, she spun on her heels, heading to the door leading to the saloon level. Diana heard Devons curse, and his footsteps followed her. Before she reached the steps, he stopped her with his hand. “Wait.”

She took a deep breath and turned back to him, willing her humiliation away. “Yes.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m making a mess of this. We are better off as friends. I value and respect you more than most individuals I know. I don’t want to ruin that. But you deserve to live a little. You should have a flirtation with someone.”

“With Messina?”

He clenched his jaw and bit out, “With whomever you desire.”

Was she being irrational? Maybe she was too na?ve to have a tryst with Devons.

She pulled away from him, but he stopped her.

Her eyes flew to his face. He leaned in.

“I want to be able to look across a ballroom or a business meeting and not see regret on your face. You are the mother of a soon-to-be duke. Right now, London seems so far away, but I promise it is there with all its judgment and damn rules. Even as a widow, it would do you no good to have speculation swirl around you that we are involved. I won’t have that for you.

I care for you too much to allow such gossip. ”

He was talking about society’s judgment of him and how it would impact her. Specifically, that ladies like her didn’t dally with men like him. Men who were by-blows of lords. “You are a good man, Sebastian Devons.”

Devons held up a hand as if to stop any further assurances. “I know I am. Yet I still would be unable to prevent the gossip that would happen if we were to become lovers and it was found out. You may be frustrated with your proper social standing now, but it is very much a part of who you are.”

She wanted to tell him she couldn’t care less, but Diana then thought of Robert.

She wasn’t sure and being on this ship had confused everything she believed.

Perhaps Devons was right. An interlude between them was too much.

He was the expert in vice, after all. Maybe in this area of their lives, they needed to keep their distance.

“I understand your points. I think, maybe, we have started to overshare with each other. I think it is best when speaking we stay away from anything related to interludes or flirtations. You can do as you like, and I can do the same.”

He frowned at her. “I’m only trying to do what I think is best for you.”

She’d humiliated herself enough for one night. “I imagine the count is waiting for me.”

His face became shuttered. “I imagine so.”

Without another word, she made her way back to the saloon. An attendant reached out to open the door to the room for her, but Diana shook her head. “Please, just a moment.”

Diana leaned against a wall, feeling foolish.

She wouldn’t think about her attraction to Devons anymore.

He could do as he liked, as could she. Diana took a deep breath and nodded to the attendant.

The man opened the door to the saloon. As she entered both Messina and Monroe turned and smiled at her. Yes, Diana didn’t need Devons.

The next morning, she sat looking over her letter to the ladies of London. This was the priority. Raising money for the club. She and Devons could and would work together on that. Anything else she chose to do was only her business, not Devons’s. She held up the paper and read it once more.

To the Ladies of London,

The city of Porto is a delight you can’t miss.

We were fortunate enough to learn about Senhor Pedro, the eventual King of Portugal, as well as see an enormous tapestry that told the story of his unrequited love for a woman he was banned from marrying.

I hope if you join this leisure cruise, you will take the time to hear their tale.

Porto is a city like no other. Some call it the city of artists, and I can see why. We ended our time with a dramatic opera and a tasting of some of the finest ports. Not that I have very much experience, but Mr. Devons assured me it is the best. I imagine he is an expert on such things.

Next, we are off to Malaga.

Lady Hensley

*

Malaga—Early July 1850

The woman in the red dress spun to the sound of the music while those around clapped and whistled.

They were getting a presentation by Romas about a dance called the flamenco.

Devons had to admit the dance was beautiful and sultry.

The women twirled around as everyone cheered.

Several of the passengers from the SS Lark watched the show hosted in the courtyard of an old stone building.

His eyes darted to Diana, who hadn’t spoken to him more than a greeting since their talk on the weather deck.

It pained him that the closeness they once shared was now missing, but it was needed.

He’d already been hurt by Lilah, and Sebastian suspected if he became involved with Diana, it would be far worse.

What he hadn’t told Diana was that he wasn’t sure he could survive an interlude with her, and Sebastian refused to think they could have more than that. This trip deceptively made everything possible. Varying groups of people mingled that never would in England.

While Lilah had been a widow in London, she wasn’t used as an example of the proper lady. Not like Diana, who was revered for her ladylike qualities. She existed in a tier of society that judged someone like him as unsuitable to be in their presence.

They were attracted to each other. Any denial from him at this point would be ridiculous.

Still, she was untouchable, a temptation that would only bring him pain.

And, more importantly to him, Sebastian was determined not to cause any gossip that would impact her or her family.

Gossip always swirled around him, but he didn’t want that for Diana.