Quit

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Victor Anderson was beyond pissed as he squared up to the man who’d stepped out of the shadows. Carrie took a deep breath and stepped backward the moment she realized who it was that had come to her aid.
As much as she wanted Robert’s help, she knew he’d be in trouble with his employer if he didn’t tread lightly. He’d already intervened on her behalf once, and Mr. Ashton hadn’t appreciated it. Judging by the way Victor was glaring at him now, Carrie had to assume that Robert had already overstepped.
“It’s fine,” she said, as she had the day before. “Thank you, Robert.” Unlike last time, she didn’t attempt to stay where she was near Mr. Anderson. Since Robert had already insinuated himself between them, it was easy for her to get away from Victor now. Without another word, she stepped around Robert, hoping her words were enough to calm the situation down and let them restore their relationship.
But she wasn’t waiting around to find out what happened next. Instead, she rushed toward the doorway that led inside and hastily made her way to her room, not paying attention to anyone she passed, even those who asked if she was all right. She must’ve looked a fright, rushing as quickly as she could, her skirts pulled up away from her shoes so she didn’t trip. Still, she couldn’t worry about that at the moment. Her only concern was to put enough distance between herself and Victor Anderson that he could no longer threaten her.
Next time, she’d do herself a favor and listen to Jonathan.
She arrived at her room and rushed inside, throwing the lock behind her, her heart pounding in her chest. Carrie took a moment with her eyes closed to breathe in deeply and remind herself that she was safe–this time.
Thanks to Robert Crawford.

***

“Robert, I swear to God,” Victor began, glaring at his liegeman. “I ought to fire you right here and now.”
Robert cleared his throat, not sure how to respond to the threats Victor was making–once again. He’d come up onto the deck looking for his employer because he’d gotten an important message he knew Mr. Anderson was waiting for. But when he’d discovered the situation with Miss Boxhall, he quickly realized he’d misread the situation the day before. When Carrie had sent him away, it wasn’t because she wanted to be with Victor; she’d simply wanted to spare Robert from getting into trouble.
Here he was, facing that possibility again, and he had to admit, he didn’t care. It was no secret to anyone that knew him well that Victor was a womanizer. As far as Robert knew, none of the women he’d been with in the past had been taken advantage of, but after overhearing the conversation between Carrie and him, now he wasn’t so sure.
One thing he did know for certain. There was nothing in the world more important than making sure that Carrie was safe and comfortable. Even if it cost him his employment, Robert wouldn’t let Victor–or anyone–harm her.
“Mr. Anderson, I’m not exactly sure what was going on, but I distinctly heard Carrie tell you to leave her alone. You insisted on trying to take her back to your room, even though she didn’t want that.” Saying the words out loud made Robert even more angry than he had been before. It wasn’t like him to be rude or aggressive, but in this case, he wasn’t about to back down.
Victor stepped toward him, taking him roughly by the collar. “Listen here, boy. You answer to me. Don’t you forget that. What happens between me and a dame–any dame–is none of your concern.”
Robert yanked himself free, swiping Victor’s arm away from him. His employer’s eyes bulged in shock. “I am not a boy. I am a grown man. And regardless of the threats you make against me, I’m telling you right now, I will not put up with anyone threatening a woman–Carrie or anyone else.”
“Do you want to find yourself sleeping out here on the deck?” Victor seethed, swiping his hand through his hair as his anger boiled to the surface.
Robert took a deep breath and looked around. Was he particularly excited about the possibility of being kicked out of his room? Of course not. But he wouldn’t bow to Victor when he had done something so offensive. “Would you like to iron your own suits and fetch your own messages?” he countered. “I find it very unlikely you can find someone to replace me while we’re situated out in the middle of the Atlantic.”
Victor’s eyes narrowed as he considered what Robert was saying. It was clear his liegeman had a point. Still, Victor was stubborn. “I’m Victor Anderson. I’ll simply offer someone else’s man more money. Who wouldn’t rather work for me?”
Robert chuckled. “Are you sure you’re willing to risk it?”
“Son of a bitch.” Victor tugged at his hair again, swinging his arm by his side. “Go back to the room this instant and get it ready for me.”
“No.” Robert raised his head, his chin up, like his father had always told him. “I’m still considering whether or not I can work for someone like you.”
Growling, Victor took a step toward him, lifting a finger and wagging it in his face. “If you’re not back in the room in fifteen minutes, you’re fired. I’ll throw your shit out into the hallway, and you can sleep out here!” With that, he stormed off, still cursing under his breath.
Robert inhaled deeply and turned to the railing, resting his arms on the barrier and breathing in the sea air. His heart rattled against his ribcage. No matter how hard he told himself to calm down, nothing seemed to make a difference. He’d managed to stay in control while Victor berated him, but now, he felt himself coming apart. Was he willing to risk his job for a woman he hadn’t seen in years?
The image of Carrie’s face flickered before his eyes, and he knew for a fact that he was. Not just for Carrie, though. For too long, he’d looked the other way while Victor was out womanizing. Well, it was time he took a stand.
Robert felt himself beginning to grow more calm as his decision became more resolute. He turned and looked around the deck, noting that the chairs didn’t look all that comfortable, but if he had to sleep out here beneath a blanket of stars for a day or two, it would certainly be worth it.
He heard the sound of a loud exhale and heavy steps and looked up in time to see Jonathan Lane tearing through a door. He knew Jonathan worked for the Ashtons, the same fine people that Carrie worked for, so he wasn’t too surprised to see him here, but Jonathan looked out of sorts, which was unusual for him.
“Is everything well, Mr. Lane?” he called as Jonathan looked around the boat deck. “Are you looking for Miss Boxhall?”
Jonathan squinted at him, and realizing he was covered in shadows, Robert stepped into the light. A flicker of recognition crossed the other man’s face as Jonathan stepped over. “Oh, Robert. It’s you. Hello. Yes, I am looking for her. I was supposed to escort her back to the room if… well, I suppose I missed her.” He lifted his signature hat and brushed his dark hair back.
Robert understood what Jonathan was not saying. He must’ve gone to the smoking lounge and intended to come and find Carrie if Victor wasn’t present. Clearly, Victor wasn’t in the lounge, though he might be now, and Jonathan, who held himself to a high standard, slipped up.
“She went back to her room,” Robert explained, moving back a few steps to hold onto the railing. He felt himself growing more tense with every word that left his mouth. “I came upon her in a bit of a tussle with Victor Anderson and insisted that he leave her be.”
Jonathan’s eyes practically bulged from his head. “A tussle? Was she harmed?”
“No, she wasn’t harmed.” Robert didn’t think she was anyway. Now, he wished he would’ve gone with her, escorted her to her room, just to make sure she wasn’t hurt in any way and that she got there safely. Who would’ve ever thought it would be unsafe for a woman to walk alone at night aboard a passenger liner? “I made sure that Victor knew, in no uncertain terms, that he must leave her alone.”
Jonathan shook his head rapidly, his hands balling into fists. “That asshole. That perverted jackass. I have a mind to go find him and ram my fist so far through his nose he’ll be smelling yesterday’s flowers.”
Robert bit off a chuckle, thinking now wasn’t the time to laugh, even though the image of his employer–or was it former employer?--with a bloodied nose was amusing to him. “I don’t believe there’s any need for that, Mr. Lane,” Robert assured him. “I think I got my point across.”
“But… you’re his man,” he reminded Robert, as if he might’ve forgotten. “Didn’t he see fit to relieve you of your duties?”
“That’s right,” Robert confessed. “He did at first, but then it occurred to him that it might be difficult for him to replace me in the middle of the Atlantic, so he thought better of it. Still, I haven’t decided what I want to do yet. While I most certainly don’t want to work another minute for such an arrogant bastard, I’m not quite certain what I’ll do. Those deck chairs don’t look particularly comfortable, and I don’t think I have enough money on me to afford anything except perhaps Third Class accommodations, if there are any available.” He didn’t make a habit of traveling with much money since his expenses were minimal while he was in service.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jonathan said with a laugh. “You’re a friend of Carrie’s, and any friend of Carrie’s is a friend of mine. Not only did you step up to assist her, but I seem to recall the two of you had a real nice time at Mr. and Mrs. Ashton’s wedding, didn’t you?”
Robert felt his face heating. He hadn’t been aware that anyone had noticed them dancing together at the wedding. But then, Carrie and Jonathan were close. Was it possible she mentioned it to him?
Was it possible she still thought about that night as often as he did?
Robert nodded. “Yes, Ms. Boxhall and I are friends. She’s a wonderful woman. I couldn’t imagine the likes of Victor Anderson getting his paws on her.” Robert dragged a hand over his face, trying to clear his thoughts of what might’ve happened if he hadn’t come along. Still, he wasn’t sure what his friendship with Carrie had to do with him avoiding sleeping in an uncomfortable deck chair.
“Well, it’s settled then.” Jonathan clapped him on the arm. “You’ll sleep on the couch in my room.”
His mouth dropping open, Robert stared for a moment at Jonathan, not sure what to say. Finally, he managed, “That’s a very generous offer of you, Mr. Lane, but I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“It’s Jonathan,” he corrected, tugging on his arm. “And it’s no trouble whatsoever. I’m sure that Carrie would do the same for me if the circumstances were reversed.”
Not sure what else to say, Robert offered his hand. “Thank you, Mr. La–Jonathan. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your hospitality.”
Shaking his hand, Jonathan assured him, “It’s no trouble at all. Now, come along. Let’s get your things and head to the room.”