“You can have some as a commission of sorts. Even though I really did all the work.”
I plucked one out and popped it into my mouth, closing my eyes as that sweetness flooded me. “I ate these all the time back home,” I said after I’d swallowed it. “Never thought much of it. But after all that hardtack . . . I swear, this is now pretty much the best thing I’ve eaten in my entire life.”
We quickly went through the tin, and Cedric urged me to take the last one. “I should give this one to Mira,” I demurred. “She’s the only friend I’ve got left.”
Cedric looked up. “Oh?”
“Well, I’m sure that’s what Tamsin would say.”
“And the rest of us are just partners in crime.”
“The rest are just—oh.” I felt foolish. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I mean, yes. Of course you’re my friend. I think.”
His smile was hard to read as he stretched his limbs before leaning against the wall beside me. “I don’t think that makes me feel any better.”
“No, you are. I’ve just never thought of men as friends before. In my life they’ve always been . . . a means to an end.”
“Still not making me feel any better.”
“Conquests?”
“A slight improvement. Maybe being your conquest wouldn’t be so bad.”
“After I got you to help me that first day? I figured you already were.” I looked over at him and saw a bit of honey near his lips. Without thinking, I leaned over and gently dabbed at it with my fingers.
As soon as I brushed his lips with my fingertips I felt my pulse quicken and a flush of heat sweep over me. Unable to resist, I traced the edges of his lips, suddenly wondering if they would taste just as sweet as the honey.
Cedric took hold of my hand and laced his fingers with mine. The heat in his gaze made me heady, its intensity burning right through me. He didn’t let go, and I felt as though the world around us was slowing down. I finally managed to ask, “What about me? Am I your friend?”
He closed his eyes briefly, wrestling with some great dilemma, and then exhaled. “You are—”
Before he could finish answering, the door to the cargo hold suddenly opened. Both of us jumped. A sailor appeared in the doorway, an older man with a shaved head and a slanted scar across his cheek. I was also pretty sure he was missing two fingers on his left hand. He seemed equally astonished to see us, and Cedric immediately straightened up, angling himself between me and the door. He put one arm protectively around me and rested his other hand on the pocket of his coat. The painting at least wasn’t in view of the door.
“What are you doing here?” the sailor demanded. Before either of us could answer, a smirk suddenly crossed the man’s face. “Oh. I see how it is. Getting a little alone time, eh? I guess Thorn’s blushing beauties aren’t so innocent after all.”
It took me a moment to understand, and then I realized how it must look. Cedric’s proximity and arm around me made it look as though, at the very least, we’d been cuddling. Understanding the implications, I did, indeed, blush.
“We’re not—”
“She’s having second thoughts about marrying in Adoria,” said Cedric, interrupting my outrage. “She wants to turn around and go back to Osfrid. If my father finds out, I’ll be the one who gets in trouble.”
I slipped into the act and crossed my arms over my chest. Nerves would be a lot easier to explain to Jasper than a slur on my virtue. “I told you! There’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”
Cedric sighed dramatically. “Why won’t you just listen to reason?”
The sailor’s eyes shifted between the two of us, and I didn’t like the way he looked at me. I also didn’t think he believed us.
Cedric removed his hand from his pocket and reached for the opposite one, producing a small bag. He withdrew three silver coins from it and held them out to the sailor. “I’m sure you understand the need for discretion until I can talk her out of this. No need for anyone else to know.”
The sailor didn’t hesitate to snatch up the coins. I’d been right about the fingers. “Yes, sir. I certainly do. I’m as discreet as they come. You can trust Old Lefty, that you can. I won’t tell anyone about your, uh, doubts.”
He bobbed his head deferentially and then picked up a small crate before retreating. He gave us one last leer and then exited, closing the door behind him.
I groaned and sank back against the wall. “Great, just great. I knew it was only a matter of time before this all fell apart.”
“It did nothing of the sort,” Cedric replied. “He didn’t see the painting, and he’s not going to talk anyway.”
“Really? You think so? I’m sorry, but I can’t feel that confident about trusting our fate to someone called Old Lefty.” I paused. “And why is he called that if that’s the hand missing the fingers? Why not take a positive spin and go with ‘Old Righty’?”