Behind a Lady's Smile

by Jane Goodger

  Genny looked at Tillie, who seemed momentarily distracted by a pair of gentlemen walking by, and Genny couldn’t help but notice Tillie’s sudden interest. The younger man caught Tillie’s eye and winked.

  “Do you know those men?” Genny asked.

  Tillie’s cheeks turned pink. “I met the younger one last night. Figure he’s a real masher, but he has the sweetest smile.”

  Genny watched as the two men disappeared. “You should stay away from him then.”

  Tillie looked at the shore and hugged herself as if she were cold. “Yes,” she said, “I really should.”

  “I can’t find Tillie.”

  Mitch, trying to shield Genny from the view of the other three men in his tiny cabin, stepped out into the narrow corridor, snapping his watch closed as he did. It was nearly ten o’clock at night, and the passages were only dimly lit by lamps, but Mitch knew his roommates would take one look at Genny and know she didn’t belong in third class.

  “Come on, let’s go up to the deck to talk.” Mitch hadn’t seen Genny except from a distance since they went their separate ways after boarding the ship, and he wasn’t all that happy to see her now. Just ten more days and he would deliver her safely to her grandparents, collect his reward, and be on his way. Over the past few days, he’d nearly convinced himself that saying good-bye was the right thing—the only thing—he could do. The gut-wrenching ache that kept him awake at night would go away eventually. It had to, for he wasn’t certain he could continue to go on feeling the way he was, day after day, for the rest of his life. No one had ever died from just loving someone too much, but damn it, sometimes it felt as if he just might.

  Like now, with her looking up at him as if he could save the world and smelling like a bit of spring sunshine in this shadowy, rather unpleasantly scented place.

  The deck was dark, holding only a few crewmembers on watch. No passengers were in sight, likely because the temperature had grown quite cool. Genny stood, her feet slightly braced, for with the cool air had come a bit of a wind and an unsettled sea. Her hair whipped about her head, her dress flapped like a signal flag, revealing the slim outline of her legs. And she was smiling.

  “You feel alright with the sea getting rough?”

  “Perfectly fine. But I am worried about Tillie. She was feeling a bit poorly and the seas were still fairly calm.”

  He’d felt only the slightest effects of the motion, but two of his cabin mates had complained of feeling ill.

  “When did you see her last?”

  “This afternoon. She—” Her mouth snapped shut.

  “She?” Mitch prompted.

  “She was with a man who winked at her. I think he might have been a masher.” She said this last on a whisper.

  Mitch smiled at her use of the slang she’d no doubt learned from Tillie. “And how do you know that?”

  Genny shook her head and slumped a bit. “I’ve no idea,” she admitted. “I only know that she was worried he might be.”

  “I doubt she’s fallen overboard. Wherever she is, I’m sure Tillie can handle herself. She has that way about her. But let’s take a look in the saloon. I doubt this time of night anyone would mind my being there.”

  Genny gave him a look of exasperation. “I doubt very much that anyone would mind at any time of the day if you went into the saloon. And if they did, I’d . . . well, I’d shoot them.”

  Mitch let out a burst of laughter. “I’ve no doubt you would. But these folks, you’ve seen them, they might take exception to my stepping into their world.”

  Genny stopped dead and turned, pointing a finger into his chest. It actually hurt. “The only thing separating you from the toffs on this ship is the cut of your clothes. If you’d spent a dime on yourself instead of buying me all these fancy things”—she fluffed up her skirt—“then they’d accept you as one of their own.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to be a toff,” Mitch said, leaning in close.

  “And maybe I don’t want to be one either,” Genny said, leaning in even closer.

  Mitch jerked back, irritated by how much he’d wanted to kiss her. It came on him like a wave he couldn’t stop. “Let’s just go find Tillie,” he said, knowing he sounded annoyed. He hated this feeling of being out of control every time he was near her.

  In the end, Tillie was pretty darn easy to find. She and her masher were both in the saloon, suffering by varying degrees from seasickness. Of the two, Tillie was much the worse off.

  “I want to die,” she moaned, clutching the young man’s sleeve. He was valiantly trying to appear stalwart, even though his complexion had taken on a bit of a green tone.

  “You’re sick?” Genny asked, perplexed, even as the ship took a rather nauseating plunge.

  Tillie’s answer was only to nod. “A crewmember said the best way to avoid seasickness . . .” She swallowed heavily, as if just saying the word made her ill. “. . . was to look at the horizon. But it’s dark now and there is no horizon.” She moaned and her masher hugged her tightly.

  Mitch introduced himself.

  “Nathan Paulings,” the young man responded. He was perhaps twenty-two and trying to grow a mustache that looked a bit sparse. And he didn’t look at all like a masher, at least not to Mitch’s eyes. He looked more like a young man who was smitten for the first time in his life.

  Genny stepped up and looked at the pair of them. “Mr. Paulings,” she said in a tone Mitch had never before heard. For the first time since he’d known her, she showed just a bit of the blue blood in her veins. “Do you think it’s appropriate for you to be here in the saloon by yourselves?”

  To his credit, the young man blushed and said, “No, ma’am. But Tillie’s sick and I’m just trying to comfort her. I’ve already asked if I could court her.”

  Mitch suppressed a laugh as Genny’s mouth opened slightly in surprise. Clearly, Nathan Paulings was no masher, just a young man falling for a lively girl.

  “Do you think it’s all right to leave them alone?” Genny asked Mitch.

  Mitch glared at Mr. Paulings for good measure, then nodded. “I think he’ll behave.”

  “Yes, sir, I will.”

  “I’m glad you’re in good hands, then, Tillie,” Genny said. “I do hope you feel better. If it gives you any comfort, I’m sure you’re not the only one on the ship bothered by the rough seas.”

  “You’re not ill?” Tillie asked, clearly envious of Genny’s iron stomach.

  “Not yet, at any rate.”

  The ship took another dive into a trough, and Tillie clutched her stomach. “Oh God, I think I’m going to . . .” And Nathan produced a small spittoon just at the right moment, saving the fine carpet on the floor of the saloon.

  Mr. Paulings grimaced as Tillie retched. “I had an inkling that would happen,” he said, rubbing Tillie’s back.

  “Come on, Miss Campbell. I think Tillie will be fine, and you have to get back to your cabin.” Mitch led Genny out of the saloon and toward her stateroom, but instead of walking directly there, as a sensible girl would do, she stopped and looked out over the rail at the quarter moon.

  Reluctantly, Mitch stopped and stood next to her, far enough away that even if he were tempted, he couldn’t touch her. He stared at the moon as if it were far more interesting than gazing at how beautiful she looked in the moonlight.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  Mitch whipped his head around. “Apology?”

  Even though there was scant light on the deck of the ship, he could see her nod. “Remember when you kissed me on the train? And again at the restaurant?”

  Heat flooded Mitch’s body. “Vaguely.”

  “Those were the only times anyone has ever kissed me,” she confessed in a rush. “I think I put more meaning into those kisses than there was. And I made you feel awkward. So I apologize.” She paused and took a breath and Mitch couldn’t stop staring at her, wondering how a woman could so completely misread a situation. “I know now that those kisses really meant no
thing and I feel rather foolish for thinking about them the way I did.”

  Mitch swallowed. “You thought about them, did you?”

  “Constantly.” Genny let out a small laugh. “Tillie said girls tend to misinterpret a man’s intention and I expect that’s precisely what I did. And then to go to you and . . .” She stopped, mortification in every syllable. “I suppose that in a year or two, when I’ve been out in society, I will be used to such kisses.”

  His entire body rebelled at the idea and it suddenly became too much for Mitch. Genny kiss other men? Make love to some toff who didn’t even know who she really was? By God, he wouldn’t let it happen. “I don’t want you to get used to being kissed,” he said, before he could even think about how she would respond to such a statement.

  Her breath caught, and he heard it, as clearly as if she’d shouted to the world that she wanted him to kiss her again and be damned with the consequences.

  “I embarrassed you,” she said, persisting in the lie she was building.

  Oh, to hell with it. He was done fighting it, done pretending he didn’t care, didn’t love her, didn’t want her. “No, you didn’t. You tempted me. You made my heart hurt.” He stopped, knowing that what he said next would seal his fate, but, by God, he just couldn’t help himself. He crossed the distance between them and made her face him, made her look at him as he laid his heart at her feet. “Genny, I can’t let you go. I can’t. I thought I could. A better man might have let you go, let you live the life you were meant to live. But I’m not that man. I thought I could deliver you to your grandparents’ doorstep and go on my way and let you live your life, but I can’t. I’ll die if I have to.”

  She looked up at him, and even in the moonlight he could see her eyes filled with tears, giving him crazy hope. “What?”

  He swore and she smiled. “I love you, damn it. I love you and it’ll be a cold day in hell when I get back on a ship to America without you next to me.” He looked down and shook his head, as if shaking off the demon that had possessed him. “I’m asking you to marry me. I’m begging you.” He didn’t even care that his voice broke, not when his heart had been breaking for weeks at the thought of losing her forever.

  Genny placed two soft hands on either side of his head. “Goodness, Mitch, you don’t have to beg. All you had to do was smile at me and I would have said yes.”

  He let out a sharp laugh and she joined him, tugging at his head as if she were trying to shake some sense into him.

  “Does that mean I can kiss you without feeling like a . . . masher?” he asked. He’d never in his life felt such utter relief, such airless happiness. For weeks, he’d been trying to do the right thing, only to realize the right thing was standing right in front of him.

  Genny got up on her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his lips. “You can do more than that,” she said, giving him a look he didn’t even realize was in her repertoire.

  Chapter 11

  Genny pulled back and searched Mitch’s face, wondering if she had imagined the conversation they’d just had. He loved her, wanted to marry her. Had loved her for some time, apparently. Men were such strange creatures. Every time he’d looked at her with a scowl took on a completely different meaning now.

  “How much more do you think, darlin’? ’Cause I got to tell you, saying that to a man gets him pondering all sorts of things.” He chuckled and kissed her again, this time longer and more deeply. “God, you taste good.”

  Just then the ship took a steep dive between growing swells, throwing the two of them off balance. Genny clutched Mitch, laughing as they tried to right themselves.

  “Not the best place to kiss a girl,” Mitch said over the sound of the growing wind. “Looks like we might be in for a storm. We should get you back to your stateroom.”

  Genny clung to him, her arms wrapped around him as he leaned back against the bulkhead to wait for the ship to level a bit more before setting out to her stateroom. “Come on,” he shouted, and pulled her toward the nearest door, the wind nearly whipping it from his hand. When he closed the door, it seemed as if everything had gone quiet.

  “I don’t think I would have made much of a sailor,” Mitch said, leaning back against the door, clearly relieved to be off the deck.

  “Are you sick?”

  “No. I’m scared out of my mind,” Mitch said, but he smiled when he said it.

  “I didn’t think anything scared you,” Genny said, holding him close, liking the way his clothes, damp from the sea, smelled.

  “I’m scared of lots of things, but I think this”—he stopped as the ship made another dive into a trench—“may be nearly as bad as a battlefield.”

  Genny leaned up and gave his beard-roughened jaw a kiss. “I spoke with the captain earlier today. He told me this is the safest ship ever built so I don’t think we have to worry. Please don’t worry.”

  Outside, the howling wind seemed to calm a bit, but the seas were still rough. “Just a squall,” Mitch said, sounding relieved. “It’s too early for a hurricane. Come on, I’ll take you to your room.”

  He began leading the way, but Genny stopped him. “Can you stay?”

  He studied her a long moment and Genny held her breath. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded. “We’ll be married soon enough.”

  A slow smile appeared on his face and his eyes grew so heated, she nearly moaned. Her entire body flushed in a delicious way.

  When they got inside, he whipped her around and kissed her again, one hand going to the back of her head, the other to the small of her back.

  “I have some rules,” he said after he’d made her all drowsy with desire.

  “Rules?”

  He nodded solemnly, then kissed her again, slow and deep, the entire length of him pressed against her. “Everyone is different. What pleases you may not please someone else. So this time, this first time with you, I’m going to find out what pleases you. Next time, you find out what pleases me.”

  Genny furrowed her brow, and he chuckled.

  “For example,” he said, moving his mouth to her earlobe and sucking gently. Her knees nearly buckled. “You like that. I can tell because your breath hitched. But I don’t want to guess. You need to tell me.”

  “So far I like everything you do to me.”

  She smiled up at him and he tightened his jaw and swallowed. “When you smile like that, you do something to me. Did you know that?”

  “What do I do?”

  “I’ll tell you later. After.” He eyed the door worriedly. “You think Tillie will be coming back to the room?”

  Genny turned and set the lock. “There. If she knocks, we’ll just stop whatever we’re doing and answer the door.”

  “Pray God I don’t have to stop.” He took a step back from her and muttered something beneath his breath. “Now, this making love stuff, it requires you to be, um, naked.” The most charming blush stained his cheeks.

  “It does? What about you? Are you also required to be unclothed?”

  “I’ll be naked soon enough, don’t you worry. But for now, this is your turn, remember?” He put a hand on each shoulder and gently turned her around, and Genny realized he was going to unbutton her dress. She stood, her breath getting more and more jagged as he revealed first her corset cover, then her bustle and petticoats.

  “You sure do have a lot of stuff under here.”

  Genny turned her head. “Haven’t you ever undressed a lady before?”

  “No. At least not one wearing such a complicated get-up.” He pressed a kiss to her neck and brought his hands around her waist, pulling her backside up against him. She felt his arousal and closed her eyes, aware of everything he was doing to her, the way he sounded. When he brought one hand up and skimmed one breast, she arched against him and let out a low moan.

  “I like that,” she said, shocked by how breathless she sounded. His index finger circled one nipple, sending bolts of pleasure from her breast to between her legs, even through layers o
f cloth. “Oh, and that.”

  He chuckled, taking her now-erect nipple between his thumb and forefinger and twisting gently, creating even more sensation. It was almost unbearable, and he hadn’t even touched her skin yet.

  “All right, darlin’, turn around.”

  When she did and looked up into his eyes, his expression nearly seared her skin. She’d never in her life seen Mitch look at her with such a heated gaze, and another flood of desire washed over her. “I like the way you’re looking at me now.”

  He smiled, his eyes crinkling and losing that heat in an instant, but she liked this Mitch too. He brought one hand up to her jaw and brought her close, kissing her at first gently, and then with a groan, deepening the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth. This kiss was unlike the others she’d shared with Mitch. Those were out of control, filled with passion and urgency. This kiss was slow and all consuming, as if he had all the time in the world to explore her, and she found herself kissing back, with just as much passion, not thinking, just feeling, as if she couldn’t control her own body. His other hand captured one breast, and Genny found herself holding onto him, her hands clutching his sea-dampened shoulders or surely she would melt like wax to his feet. When he moved a thumb across her nipple, she actually sagged. She could hardly breathe, but she wanted more, even though she wasn’t quite certain what more was.

  Mitch pulled back and that heated gaze returned. “I want to go slow, and I will, at least I’ll try,” he said with a chuckle. “But if I don’t see what’s under all these layers pretty soon, I think I’m going to go a little crazy.” He began undoing the tiny ribbons that held her corset cover together, slipping it off her shoulders when the last was untied. “Turn around.”

  Genny laughed. “I’m going to get dizzy with all this turning.”

  “It’s not my fault you’re wearing all these damn clothes.”

  “Language, Mitch,” she said, though she secretly liked the way he cursed. “I must say, I sometimes miss just wearing a pair of pants and shirt. It certainly made getting ready for bed far easier.”