Dear Lord, the woman snores like thunder. The thin wall between Gray and Miss Vale proved little barrier to the sound. Bad enough their kiss continued to haunt him into the night, but now he had to contend with a constant reminder of her proximity. Her snores were louder than the waves lashing against the hull of the ship.

Charlie Vale was nothing like the woman he should be attracted to. If nothing else, her snores only served to prove that more. He tried to think of a more unladylike trait. Perhaps her stubbornness, or the impolite manner with which she demanded he serve her every whim.

Thanks to her, he was on an unfamiliar ship with a crew he didn’t know, bound for a country that would have him hanged if he were apprehended there. Aside from what they scrounged from the quarters of the French officers and crew, he and his men had no disguise if they were intercepted. If a French vessel spotted him wearing his blue navy coat with the gold piping and buttons, their mission would be compromised no matter what vessel they sailed.

He was accustomed to sailing into dangerous situations, but he didn’t usually have a lady aboard, let alone one so closely related to his family. His mother already thought him in hopeless peril. If any harm should befall the Vales under his watch, her opinion of his career would only plummet further.

Would Mother consider his kissing Miss Vale to be a form of harm? He did. He had a duty to set an example for his men, and kissing a woman under his protection was a violation of her trust. Never mind that Charlie had kissed him back with equal passion, her fingers in his hair, her tongue dancing with his. He hadn’t conducted himself as befitting a gentleman, but she didn’t act like a well-mannered lady.

She was brazen, outspoken, and demanding. Worse, when he’d kissed her, he’d stripped himself of all the qualities he’d like to think he possessed. Kissing her hadn’t been proper. It hadn’t been wise or honorable.

He had been no better than the animal he’d been trying to convince her he was. How she drove him to such lengths beyond the manners to which he’d been bred, he didn’t know. Well-mannered young ladies didn’t tempt him to kiss them in the hold of a borrowed ship.

Charlie did.

He took a deep breath as he tried to purge the memory of her from his mind. It was the only way he could hope for any rest tonight. The howl of her snore next door made forgetting her impossible. Gray grimaced.

Come the morning, he would put as much distance between them as possible. He prayed that the wind would turn to his favor, so he might be rid of her all the sooner. No matter what, he couldn’t lose his composure around her again.

* * *

Charlie hadn’t kissed many men in her life. The ones in the ballrooms and clubs of London were boring, vapid young fops who cared more for the way she looked than they cared for her opinion. They intended to live out their lives in the shadow of their parents, never taking a risk or stepping a toe out of line. Even hazarding a kiss with a man like that threatened to put her to sleep. There was nothing thrilling about it, nothing adventurous.

For all that he seemed as tightly buttoned as the men in London, Anthony Graylocke was different. He was an animal, or at least he kissed like one. He’d left her mouth burning and her body tingling from being pressed up against him.

And coward that she was, she’d hidden in her cabin. It wasn’t that she was afraid he would take advantage of something she didn’t care to give. No, Charlie feared that the moment he pressed his lips to hers, she would want to give him everything. Herself, her future, her chance for adventure. However chafing it was to remain in her cabin at all hours, she didn’t trust herself not to provoke another kiss from Anthony if she saw him again.

Besides, she had a gift for Papa to work on. Even if the roll of the waves disrupted her stitches, making her redo more than she made, she had a coat for Papa that needed embroidering. Had she known she would soon see him, she would have started on it months ago.

However, by the time they reached France the following afternoon, Charlie had used up every last excuse to remain apart from Anthony. Especially considering that the stubborn man was for some unfathomable reason insisting upon rowing them ashore himself.

Charlie beseeched Mama with her gaze. He has others to row us. Send one of them. Unfortunately, if Mama noticed Charlie’s unspoken plea, she didn’t answer it. Charlie squared her shoulders. She would have to confront Anthony herself.

“Captain Graylocke.” Charlie hardened her voice as she approached him. Seeing as he had made such a fuss about her mistake in addressing Lieutenant Stills, she didn’t want to give him another opportunity to disparage her. She felt off balance in his presence as it was.

Anthony, standing in close proximity to Lieutenant Stills as they carried on a private conversation, fell silent and took a step back. His hazel eyes glinted like flecks of amber. He turned to Charlie.

“Miss Vale.” His tone was clipped.

She met his gaze boldly, refusing to be daunted by his curt demeanor. “I hear you mean to accompany us to shore.”

“I do.”

Lieutenant Stills looked for a moment as though he meant to contribute. Anthony’s glare silenced him, and she wondered what they had been speaking about.

Charlie clasped her hands in front of her middle and resolved not to ask. “Thank you for your generous offer, but that won’t be necessary.”

Anthony raised an eyebrow. “No? Do you intend to swim ashore?”

She almost swayed toward him, intending to meet his hostility toe to toe, but the heat of his body seared her like a brand. She took a hasty step back, clenching her hands. This was precisely how their moment outside her cabin had gone awry. She bit her lip and took a deep breath.

His gaze dipped, lingering on her bodice and mouth before returning to her eyes once more. She gritted her teeth. He was just like every other man, ignoring her desires and opinions in favor of her beauty. But something about the way he caressed her mouth with his eyes made her battle the urge to lick her lips.

The last time he’d looked at her that way, he had pulled her flush against him and proven just how savage he was beneath his polite veneer. This time, they had witnesses. He wouldn’t kiss her with her mother and half the crew idling nearby, would he?

“You need someone to see you safely ashore.”

“You don’t need to be that person.”

Lieutenant Stills cut in. “My thoughts precisely, Miss Vale. Sir, please allow me to row them to shore. You don’t need to bother yourself with the matter.”

Anthony’s expression closed off. He showed no more emotion than a door. “Lieutenant Stills, I have given you a direct order on the matter. You may be in line to take command of this vessel, but I am in charge as of yet, and you will obey my command without question.”

Charlie gaped at his sharp tone. Would Lieutenant Stills stand there and take the very public reprimand without question? The man’s casual air dissipated. A twitch started in his jaw, but he bowed to Anthony. “As you desire, sir.”

She didn’t care if Anthony was the captain aboard the vessel, she wouldn’t have stood to be spoken to in that manner. Charlie could barely stomach the sometimes veiled, cutting remarks of the haute ton. She supposed that she wasn’t well suited to high-society life, nor to life at sea. Luckily, she hadn’t been born a man, so the latter wasn’t truly an option.

Still in a foul mood, Anthony divided his attention between Lieutenant Stills and her. “I accepted the duty of escorting Mrs. and Miss Vale to their destination. I will be the man to carry it out. Do you have anything further to say on the matter?”

“You’re just as stubborn as your sister,” Charlie snapped.

Anthony’s face grew slack with shock at her pronouncement. She left him speechless as she approached the dinghy that would be lowered into the water and rowed to shore. If Anthony wanted to accompany them until the moment their feet touched the sand, it appeared there was little she could do to stop him. But she refused to let him have the last word.

Besides, he was just as stubborn as Lucy, in any case. She touched her hand to her mouth, wondering how she could possibly escape the memory of his kiss when he would be so close.