Private

“You look lovely, Carrie,” Jonathan assured her. For the hundredth time since she’d finished dressing, she checked herself in the mirror. He’d come over a few moments before he needed to leave for dinner in the dining hall to see if she needed anything. Thankfully, he didn’t flinch when she asked him to help her with a few buttons on her gown she couldn’t quite reach. Sometimes it paid to have a male friend who wasn’t interested in women.
“Thank you.” Carrie turned to smile at him. “I am a bit nervous.”
A crooked grin took over Jonathan’s face. “I knew there was something between you, even if neither of you would admit it. Initially, I thought it would be a good idea for you to stay out of the dining hall because of Victor, but now I see that this is a more suitable arrangement for other reasons as well.”
“Oh, stop!” Carrie brushed her hand over his arm dismissively. “It’s nothing like that.”
“Please. You sound like Charlie trying to deny he was interested in Meg a few nights into our embarkment on the ship that won’t be named.” He shook his head and took a few steps toward the door. “I doubt I’ll go to the smoking lounge tonight. I don’t want to see Victor.”
“Can’t fault you there,” Carrie muttered.
“Behave yourself, Miss Boxhall. I’d hate to have to tell your employer you’ve become a temptress.”
He was almost to the door, so he was out of reach for her to smack him upside the head. Instead, Carrie picked up a glove she’d considered wearing and tossed it at him. She missed, and they both laughed before he disappeared through the door.
“That Jonathan.” Mumbling to herself, she crossed the room and picked up the glove. In the time it took her to walk back over to the table to set it down, she found herself second guessing her choice. Should she switch the ones she was wearing for the others?
A knock on the door between her room and Jonathan’s made all other thoughts disappear from her mind. That would be Robert letting her know dinner had been delivered. Carrie sucked in a deep breath and dropped the now-forgotten glove on the table.
Her stomach tangled in a knot of nerves, she pulled open the door and smiled at Robert, hoping he couldn’t tell how anxious she truly felt about dining with him. His warm brown eyes met hers, and she felt herself begin to breathe naturally again.
“Good evening, Miss Carrie,” he said politely, stepping back out of her way and gesturing for her to come in. “You look stunning.”
Instinctively, Carrie looked down at her gown, as if she’d forgotten what she was wearing. This dress was also new, though she wished she had saved the one she liked better for an occasion such as this one. Not that she ever would’ve guessed she’d be dining–alone–with Robert Crawford.
“Thank you.” She tugged at the train of the green gown which highlighted her eyes. “I bought it just before we left.”
“The gown is very nice, but I meant you, Carrie. Not your dress or the fancy pins you have in your hair or the jewels dripping from your earlobes and adorning your neck.” His voice was smoky, as if he’d just awoken from a dream–a dream about her.
Carrie felt the air leaving her lungs again, but this time, it was for a different reason entirely. Not knowing what to say, she simply stared at his handsome face for a moment, noticing the squareness of his clean-shaven jaw, the way his nose was perfectly straight, how his eyebrows arched when he was amused.
“Shall we?” He broke the silence, taking a few steps toward a table that had been set up in the middle of the lounge area and pulling out a chair. “I thought it would be safer to dine in here since the sea is a bit turbulent this evening. Wouldn’t want to end up with a lap full of prime rib.”
Giggling, Carrie took the offered seat and waited for Robert to take the chair across from her before placing her napkin in her lap. It was an intimate setting with barely enough room for their plates and drinks. Removing the cloches did help. Robert discarded them and poured them both a glass of wine. Before she could pick up her fork, he raised his glass. “To dinner with the most interesting individual on the ship.”
Heat rose in Carrie’s cheeks as she clinked her glass against his. “To finding an old friend under new circumstances.” She held his gaze for a moment, wondering if he would understand exactly what she was getting at.
His smile widened, and she assumed he did.
The two of them began their meal with polite conversation about the weather and Jonathan’s lovely idea that she should skip the dining hall, but soon, the topic of conversation became deeper. “Do you like working for Mrs. Ashton?” Robert asked her before taking a sip of his wine.
Carrie nodded. “Yes, of course. I love them like they are my own family.”
“And do you see yourself in their employment for the rest of your days?” That hint of amusement she noticed quite often colored his expression as he waited for her response.
Only a few days ago, Carrie would’ve been quick to say of course she did. But since then, her circumstances had changed. Now, she had had a taste of life on the ocean–in First Class–and Robert’s willingness to step out on his own had also inspired her.
“I’m honestly not certain,” she admitted after swallowing down a bite of steak. “I do love working for the Ashtons. But I’m not sure that’s all I want out of life.” Thoughts of what it would be like to marry, have children, a home of her own all flashed before her eyes. While it seemed ridiculous for Carrie to think about marrying Robert, she’d be lying to herself if she said the idea wasn’t appealing. She picked up her glass of wine and took a drink to calm her nerves.
She was in the process of swallowing when Robert asked, “Do you want to get married?”
Choking on the wine, Carrie sputtered, spewing flecks of wine across the table, her lap, and Robert’s plate.
Immediately, he handed her the napkin from his lap. “Are you all right?”
She coughed a few times and placed her glass down, taking the napkin and pressing it to her mouth. Thankfully, they were drinking white wine, so there were no stains on the tablecloth or her dress. “I’m so sorry.” She wondered how much of it had actually gotten on his food and if he would continue to eat it after that.
Chuckling, he said, “It’s fine, Carrie. You do realize I was asking if you’d get married someday in general–not proposing?”
Feeling heat rush to her face, Carrie forced herself to nod. Yes, of course he wasn’t proposing. What was wrong with her anyway? “Oh, I know.” She managed to eke out the response, but on the inside, she was still embarrassed from her reaction. If he had been asking her to marry him, he would’ve taken it back after that reaction.
“Good,” he said, leaning toward her and lowering his voice. “Because if I were proposing, you’d know it.”
A chill went down Carrie’s spine, and for a moment, she allowed herself to stare into his eyes and think about what it would be like to press her lips against his.
When he leaned away from her, she caught her breath and looked away, knowing she needed to control herself. She wasn’t the sort of woman Victor thought she might be, so she needed to get a handle on herself.
Robert cut another piece of steak and ate it as if he hadn’t noticed the wine at all. She went back to her food and took a few more bites before he asked her a few more questions. What did she think of the ship? Did she enjoy traveling? What exactly was she doing for Mrs. Ashton in Southampton? Carrie answered all of his questions and asked a few of her own. He explained the mechanics behind his motorcoach improvements, though she didn’t quite follow what he was saying. She’d never been particularly mechanically inclined.
“If you could do anything else, be anything else, what would you be?” he asked her, his steak nearly devoured.
Carrie didn’t even have to think about that. “Honestly? I love fashion. When Mrs. Ashton and I go shopping, I love taking in all the newest styles. I don’t have much time to sew anymore, but when I do, I like to see what I can create. I’m not sure I’m all that good at it, but I find it interesting.”
“I’m sure you’re a wonderful designer.” He didn’t hesitate to compliment her. “Do you think one day you might like to strike out and try your hand at it? As a profession?”
“I don’t know.” She hadn’t really told anyone about her desire to create dresses and other articles of clothing. Not even Mrs. Ashton or Kelly. It seemed silly for a lady’s maid to want to do something of that nature. “It’s not like I’d ever have the money to do something like that.”
“Why not try making a dress or two, see if those sell, and then you could make more?” he suggested. “Start small and work your way up.”
She hadn’t really thought about doing it that way. “The idea of opening a dress shop sounds overwhelming, but when you put it that way, it seems more manageable.”
“Do you think the Ashtons would be willing to support you in such an endeavor?” Robert wiped his mouth and set his napkin back in his lap.
Shrugging, she admitted, “I’ve never really thought of asking them about something like that. Knowing Mr. Ashton, he would probably pay for the whole thing. He’s very generous to his friends, and I’d like to think of myself as his friend. And then Mrs. Ashton has her own money as well. But I don’t know. I’d sort of like to do it on my own.”
He nodded, his lips curling into a soft smile. “I believe that. You seem quite independent.”
Not knowing how to respond, Carrie took another bite of her steak. She was almost full, but she didn’t want the meal to end. They continued to chat for a few more minutes while she got as much of the delicious dinner down as she could.
When they were finished eating, he asked, “Would you like to step out onto the balcony? I know how much you enjoy staring out at the sea.” He gave her a knowing look that made her wonder if perhaps he’d been watching her when she didn’t know it.
“Yes, I’d like that.” The two of them pushed their chairs back and placed their napkins on the table before making their way out to the deck. A silver moon lit the waves as they rippled out from the speeding passenger ship. The soft breeze brushed through the loose tendrils of her hair. Carrie breathed it all in, resting her hands on the railing and reminding herself that this was real. She wasn’t home in New York City, sitting in bed with her nose in a book. She was here on this magnificent ship, with a wonderful man standing only inches from her.
“You sure look lovely tonight, Carrie,” he murmured, stepping even closer to her.
“Th-thank you.” She looked up into his eyes, and that same spell that had fallen over her before rushed over her.
Robert slowly closed the distance between them, and Carrie pushed up on her tiptoes, her eyelashes fluttering closed. His lips were so close to hers, she could practically feel them on hers already.
“I’m back!”
The sound of Jonathan’s voice had both of them leaping away from one another, Carrie biting back a curse she’d been about to let fly. Robert snickered and shook his head as Jonathan walked out onto the balcony.
“What?” he asked, completely oblivious to what he’d just interrupted.
Laughing, Carrie pressed a hand to her forehead. “Nothing, Mr. Lane. Wonderful timing as always. How was dinner?”