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The dockhands disappeared with their trunks, which would be waiting in their cabins.

After getting Sebastian’s forged documents from Jade, and making promises to Arthur to find a way to check in, Wesley followed Sebastian up the ramp and onto one of the decks of the ship.

Despite the cold and continuing light rain, there were several groups of people standing in tight knots against the railing, waving down to the people on the pier below.

A group of suited Englishmen were boasting loudly of their American investments while a trio of exquisitely dressed French women were sharing cigarettes.

Wesley snagged Sebastian’s sleeve and tugged him in the opposite direction of the women. “Pity our cabins aren’t connecting,” he said, as he opened one of the doors off the deck. “Though I probably should be grateful we’re on the same floor, given the timing.”

They stepped into the first-class reception room, which spanned the width of the ship. The carpet was patterned in brown and gold, with white walls and arched tall windows lining the sides. Several passengers were lingering in chairs and at tables, entertained by a string ensemble.

They crossed the room, heading for the arched opening at the far end.

“I want to come see where your cabin is.” Sebastian took off his cap and ran a hand through his hair, which was still a bit wild after Wesley had gotten his hands in it the prior night.

“Then I guess I have to clean up for dinner.”

“Oh duck, you can’t make that sour face about wearing proper clothes,” Wesley said, amused. “Not when you’re the glamorous international bachelor Don Sebastian.”

Sebastian groaned.

They passed the main dining saloon, filled with rows of white-clothed tables set amongst columns under a gilded ceiling, then stepped into a lobby.

A chandelier hung from the dome two stories above, and a wide staircase with white steps and dark railings of oak and intricate ironwork led both up and down from the lobby.

They took the stairs up, and Wesley found his stateroom on the C-deck.

No private sitting room or private bathroom, but he did have a small desk and chair, a marble sink with running water, and a slim but elegantly appointed single bed set against the wall beneath a large porthole window.

“My room will be like this, I think; it’s just down the hall.” Sebastian leaned on the closed stateroom door. “I will go find it after we set sail.”

Wesley raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying we’re going to join the crowd for the ship’s departure? As in, we’ll watch from the deck outside, where it’s three degrees above freezing and raining?”

“Yes,” Sebastian said. “We’re not going to see land for a week, Wes; we want to say goodbye to the skyscrapers. The tops may even be up in the rainclouds today.”

Wesley sat on the edge of the bed. It was narrow enough that trying to fit in it with Sebastian would likely result in one of them tumbling to the floor, but Wesley was game to try.

“Couldn’t Brodigan simply use his own ring relic to blow the clouds away?

Actually, no , tell me he wouldn’t attempt to change the weather while we’re at the mercy of the ocean.

In fact, given how quickly I get under his skin, it’s probably best if he never wears it in my vicinity at all. ”

“We’re perfectly safe with Rory,” Sebastian insisted.

“You’re truly incorrigible, with your reprehensible faith in others,” Wesley said. “That surly urchin controls the wind. I look forward to saying I told you so when he blows me overboard in a fit of pique, although at that point I suppose I’ll likely be a meal for a giant squid.”

Sebastian stepped closer, bumping up against Wesley’s knees. “I won’t let you become squid food.”

“Oh, you’ll protect me, will you?” Wesley said, letting Sebastian fit himself between his legs. “Does aquatic life have the same fondness for you as land animals? That would fucking figure, wouldn’t it?”

Sebastian grinned. He tipped Wesley’s hat back, and then leaned down to fit their lips together, both his hands cupping Wesley’s jaw. The ship’s horn went off as they kissed, two deep blasts that vibrated in Wesley’s chest.

When Sebastian pulled back a moment later, Wesley blinked. He didn’t seem to be starting anything more. “I don’t know what you just tried to butter me up for, but yes, you can have it,” Wesley said, to cover his discombobulation.

Sebastian laughed. “I’m not asking for anything. I just like to kiss you.”

Yes, but I also like to kiss you , Wesley wanted to say, so what the fuck is your secret for giving affection so easily and won’t you bloody teach me already?

“The ship is leaving soon,” Sebastian went on, oblivious to Wesley’s ruminations. “Let’s say goodbye to Manhattan.”

“And there it is,” Wesley said, as he let Sebastian pull him to his feet. “You are asking for something; you’re asking me to come look at the view.”

“You have the best eyes,” Sebastian said unapologetically. “You can tell me what birds you can see.”

“I don’t have to set foot outside to tell you that. There will be gulls, who are as much of a menace as pigeons.”

“Pigeons aren’t menaces,” Sebastian predictably countered, starting to turn toward the door.

“Says the animal-loving menace himself.” Wesley caught Sebastian by the belt. “And here you could have said you want your own Bentley,” he said, as he pulled him closer. “Hell, after a kiss like that, I’d buy you the damn Bronx Zoo.”

Wesley kept his movements careful, almost gentle, so Sebastian could have easily escaped if he’d been spooked.

But he was grinning, his body pliant and at ease with being manhandled across the stateroom—or, at least, at ease when Wesley manhandled him, and perhaps Wesley alone.

That thought went straight to the same reprehensibly atavistic part of Wesley’s brain that had preened over having the tattoo’s hidden lion to himself.

Magic or not, Sebastian trusted him in ways he didn’t trust anyone else, and magic or not, it apparently still drove Wesley wild.

“The only thing I want is you,” Sebastian said, as he let Wesley tug him exactly where he wanted him, which was right into Wesley’s arms.

You already have that, and embarrassingly completely. Wesley didn’t say it, instead sliding his hands lower on Sebastian’s back. “Listen to you, trying to charm me. You know I’m not that easy.”

“Are you sure?” Sebastian twined his own arms around Wesley’s neck. “Because you just offered to buy me a zoo.”

“I think you just called me a sucker,” Wesley said. “It’s almost like you’re trying to goad me into throwing you down on this bed.”

“No, no, I am the innocent, remember?” Sebastian’s smile was a little wicked as he tilted his head back and chin up, so their lips were more aligned. “You besmirch my character.”

“I can besmirch a lot more than that—”

There was a polite knock on the door. Wesley sighed and let Sebastian go, stepping over to answer the door to reveal two young men in bellhop uniforms.

“My lord,” one of them said. “We have your luggage. Your hotel forwarded a cable from London. Made it just in time.” He held out a sealed envelope.

Sebastian moved to look out the large porthole as the bellhops carried in luggage. Wesley opened the envelope to find a cable from his second cousin, Geoffrey.

THORNTON INVITED ENTIRE CLUB TO BECKLEY BALL STOP ASKED IF YOU WILL BE HOME IN TIME STOP ASSUMING OF COURSE YOU ARE STILL ALIVE STOP IF YOU ARE DEAD HAVE THE COURTESY TO LET ME KNOW STOP

Lord Thornton’s ball at Beckley Park.

The Duke of Valemount would almost certainly be there, and now that they were unexpectedly aboard the Gaston , he and Sebastian would arrive in England in time to attend.

Shit.

“Lord Fine?” Sebastian was looking at him with a furrowed brow as the bellhops placed Wesley’s trunk. “Everything all right?”

Wesley hastily tucked the cable back in the envelope like the craven coward he was. “Nothing important. Just Cousin Geoffrey being Geoffrey.”

He’d have to tell Sebastian what kind of ball it was. Of course he’d tell him.

Eventually.

* * *

After leaving Wesley’s stateroom, Sebastian followed him up the grand staircase to B-deck. Well-dressed first-class passengers, many with umbrellas, were clustered along the railings, some of them watching with impassive faces while others waved handkerchiefs at the pedestrians down below.

It was crowded, but they finally found a spot near a grouping of deck chairs on the ship’s port side. Sebastian pulled his coat closed for warmth, leaning on the railing as the engines deepened and vibrated, taking them away from the pier.

“Can you see Arthur and Rory anywhere?” Sebastian asked, craning his neck to view the other classes’ decks below.

“No.” Wesley was scanning the crowd. “Though I do recognize a pair of London’s top solicitors and a dowager who’s great friends with my third cousin.”

The ocean liner was making its way down the Hudson, passing Manhattan on the left. Sebastian was still keyed up from the rush of the day, the flurry of their unexpected departure. He took a breath of rain-tinged sea air, letting it fill his lungs. “Do you want to go talk to them?”

“Do I ever want to talk to anyone?” Wesley said dryly.

“I’ll remain here, thank you. I’ll get more than my fill of others when we’re back in England.

” He huffed. “One might reasonably have assumed all this paranormal lunacy would not include socializing, but apparently even magic can’t spare me from people and parties. ”

Sebastian snorted. “Didn’t you mention a party at the Magnolia? It was a ball, I think you said—one you were sure the Duke of Valemount was attending?”

“Oh,” Wesley said, his voice a little higher. “You remember that?”