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Being in command of a ship and God knew how many souls was hardly free of responsibility, and he’d never in his life listened to a nagging voice. Never heard one—no one had cared enough to prate on and on at him about things he found absolutely uninteresting, like the arrangement of a cravat or social conventions, the sort of thing Gwendolyn set such store by. Maybe Billy was right. Getting married to a woman like that could prove very tiresome.
    Ah, but she was a gorgeous piece, like fine porcelain. He could dance to her tune gracefully enough, until they were married and bedded. Once she had a child or two to fill with such nonsense she’d leave off of him. And there was the sea. He didn’t have to be home with her any longer than he wanted—he could tolerate marriage to almost anyone in those circumstances, and Gwendolyn would do.
    So why did he feel so restless? This was what he’d decided upon. A proper wife to go with his proper life, a gypsy street rat and pickpocket pulling himself out of the gutter to almost laughable heights.Gwendolyn was great-niece to a duke—his common, half-Rom blood would mingle with that of aristocracy. And he’d still be free to disappear on the ocean, with the sea breeze in his hair and the slap of salt spray against his skin, and Gwendolyn probably wouldn’t notice. Oh, she was drawn to him, wanted him like a shiny new toy, but he suspected once it came down to the marriage bed she’d be happy enough to do without. The few kisses she’d allowed had been cold and close-mouthed, and he didn’t think a parson’s blessing was going to warm her. No, he’d find his pleasure elsewhere once he gave her enough children, and if she found out she’d pretend not to know.
    So why wasn’t he celebrating his good fortune? The problem with the
Maddy Rose
would be easily fixed, particularly since his solicitor was his future father-in-law. It was a little late to be changing his mind, about the ship, about his upcoming nuptials. Gwendolyn wouldn’t be a problem, simply because he didn’t care enough to let her be one. And he wanted children. He liked them—the cheeky little buggers.
    So why did his mind keep going back to the milliner with her flashing, dark blue eyes, soft mouth, and fierce temper? His course was charted. He couldn’t afford distractions, even one as tempting as the hatmaker.

CHAPTER FOUR

    B Y THE TIME M ADDY arrived at the captain’s house on North Water Street she had regained her composure, even if she couldn’t quite forget what his mouth had been like. It wasn’t like her to let any man fluster her, and unless she made the very foolish habit of wandering the back alleyways near the docks she was unlikely to run into him again. She couldn’t quite place him socially. One of the men had referred to him as “captain,” but it was more likely a generic term of respect for power, which the stranger clearly had. The ships’ captains she’d met, and there had been many of them, were always impeccably dressed, whether in uniform or day clothes. Perhaps this man was a first mate or a quartermaster—something a little higher up than an ordinary seaman.
    She shook herself. She had to hope her father’s captains hadn’t hired any foul creatures like the three who’d attacked her. But had her enigmatic rescuer ever sailed on her father’s ships? It was a disturbing possibility.
    It didn’t matter. Her father had no ships—his empire was torn apart, the ships sold off one by one, including the one that bore her name. She needed to forget the rude stranger and his shocking kiss.She would never see him again; no one would ever kiss her like that again. When she found her wealthy, titled husband she would never allow him such liberties.
    But still…
    She straightened her shoulders, determinedly dismissing the stranger and his mouth, and stared at her destination, the place she would call home for the next few weeks.
    It was a narrow terrace house, painted blue,