Grace linked arms with her. “Don’t worry. He’ll come.”
“Who?” she asked, feeling the heat rise in her face despite the brisk wind.
“You know very well who,” her sister retorted. “Papa was right. He told me this is the largest number of passengers he’s had for a long while.”
“Let’s hope it continues,” Samantha said, losing hope as the end of the queue came in sight.
“There he is,” Grace squealed, bouncing up and down, until, “Oh.”
Samantha followed her sister’s gaze. Sergeant Cullen was limping along the docks, relying heavily on a cane.
A myriad of emotions swamped Samantha. Despite his limp, he walked erect, his head held high. A proud man, easily the most striking gentleman she’d met in a long while. She’d misjudged him, deemed him rude because he’d refused to dance and left without saying goodnight. Clearly, he hadn’t wanted them to see his disability. Her heart went out to him. He’d overcome his pride and joined them today. She’d sensed an attraction between them at the ball, and hoped he’d come because he wanted to see her again.
His jaw clenched as he paid the steward for his ticket and saw her watching him. She was so glad to see him, she beamed a smile, elated when he returned the smile, transforming his worried features into the face of Michelangelo’s David.
The boat rose and fell in the choppy waters of the small harbor. He made his way slowly down the companionway and joined her on deck. “Miss Hindley,” he said, doffing his bowler before gripping the railing.
His deep voice chased away the chill in the air. In the clear light of day, she could see the true color of his eyes. “Sergeant Cullen,” she replied from her dry throat. “I was right. Your eyes are blue.”
He laughed, causing butterflies to flit about in her tummy. “Please, call me Parker.”
“Then you must call me Samantha,” she countered.
“And I’m Grace,” her sister said, jabbing an elbow into Samantha’s ribs.
“Grace,” Parker acknowledged.
Samantha unhooked her arm, thankful her grinning sister took the hint and wandered off.
Her father’s distorted voice came over the loud-hailer. “Welcome aboard. This is Captain Hindley. We’re in for a rare treat today as we cross the Severn. You’ll have the best view of the opening of the new railway bridge.”
Several passengers on the crowded deck chatted excitedly, but fell silent when the announcement continued. “We’ve a brisk wind coming up the channel today, so it will be choppy out there. I can assure you you’re in safe hands. I’ve been plying these waters for twenty years.”
Women huddled deeper into their cloaks. Gentlemen tapped top hats, forcing them lower on their brows. Samantha noticed Parker’s knuckles on the railing had turned white. A man with an injured leg might find a rough crossing difficult. “I want to apologize,” she began, hoping what she was about to say wouldn’t offend him. “I misjudged you last evening.”
He frowned. “In what way?”
As the boat lurched away from the dock, she took a chance and put her hand on his, emboldened by his warmth. “I understand now why you don’t dance. And you left without saying goodnight because you didn’t want us to see…” Her courage faltered. “…your cane.”
He stared at her hand. “You’re not wearing your ring.”
As she raised her eyes to look into his questioning gaze, Samantha knew she had made the right decision. “No. I’ve decided to break off my engagement.”
* * *
Parker was certain Samantha must be able to hear the frantic beating of his heart. She’d been hoping he would come. She hadn’t averted her eyes in embarrassment when she saw him limping along the dock, though his problem had clearly taken her by surprise. Nor had she shied away from mentioning his limp. Women usually avoided the topic as if it didn’t exist. And she’d broken her engagement! He suddenly felt like a tongue-tied youth. “I see,” was all he could manage, filled with an urge to lift her cold hand to his lips. “Your fiancé wasn’t at the ball.”
He felt the loss when she withdrew her hand and waved to the bridge. “No. He’s involved with the grand opening. In fact, he’ll be on the first train across.”
Parker’s innards clenched. The feeling of impending disaster was back. “Have you told him?”
“Not yet. I didn’t really decide until this morning. I will tell him when he gets back from Wales.”
She’d made her decision this morning—Parker hoped meeting him last night had been a contributing factor.
They stood together in silence as the side-wheels plowed their way across the river.
“I direct your attention to the grandstand on your left,” Hindley announced through the loud-hailer. “As you see, the speeches are in progress.”