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companion,” Viola said as she followed Quinn. Her mother was plagued with mal de mer whenever she traveled by boat. Viola had never taken an extended voyage, so it was reasonable to assume she might be too. “Bread for choice.”
    “Don’t worry,” Quinn said. “I won’t let you starve.”
    “I assume we’ll put in at Dover.” Her breath came in huffing pants. A corset was such a bother. It would have served him right if she’d decided to make the trip in the male attire she wore when she was working. That would’ve been packing light. “Won’t we board the paddle steamer for the crossing?”
    “No, this ship is sailing to Le Havre and then up the Seine all the way to Paris.”
    “We’re crossing the channel in this?” Viola looked around her. The bustling crew swarmed over the small vessel like ants over an upset hill. They tried to make her shipshape, but the gunwale timber was noticeably worm-eaten, the sails patched and much mended. “My estimation of your courage has ticked up several notches, Lieutenant. Sadly, I cannot say the same for your intelligence. Are you mad? This is a river craft, not an oceangoing vessel.”
    “It’s the only ship leaving today for Paris. The captain assures me he’s made the trip several times. It saves a dusty carriage ride from Calais. If you have a better way of getting us there, by all means, enlighten me.”
    Viola clamped her lips shut. She didn’t even have fare for a hansom to get herself home.
    “No? Then we’ll go with my plan. Come, I’ll see you to the cabin.”
    Cabin? There was a ray of sunshine. At least she’d enjoy some privacy on the small vessel. She followed him down the narrow companionway toward the stern. When she snagged the valises on one of the inner hatches, he relieved her of their weight. He lifted one bag, tucked the other under his arm and led the way, holding her hatbox out in front of him.
    Quinn glanced back over his shoulder to see if she was following as he stooped under a low beam. The Minstrel’s Lady was built with much shorter sailors in mind. If Quinn wasn’t careful, he’d crack his head before the trip was over.
    “The captain has agreed to surrender his cabin, so the accommodations are the best available.”
    “How kind.”
    “Kindness has nothing to do with it.” Quinn dropped the hatbox in order to open the cabin door.
    “Careful with that!”
    “How else should I turn the knob, your ladyship? With my teeth?” Quinn stepped aside to let her enter first.
    The cabin was spartan, but clean and held the faint tarry smell of carbolic soap. The linens on the narrow bed appeared fresh and there was a small commode with an ewer built into it. A pitcher swung from a hook above. A square table was bolted to the floor in the center of the space.
    “I’m paying handily for the use of this cabin,” Quinn said. “That means you have me to thank for not having to shift for yourself on the open deck.”
    “If I were making this trip of my own free will, perhaps I would thank you.” She flashed him a poisonous smile.
    “And if you weren’t wanted for larceny in several English shires, perhaps this would be a pleasure cruise,” he returned smoothly as he set her luggage on the bunk. “There’s not much room in here, but there’s a decent porthole and a private head through that door. I suppose we’ll make do.”
    “What do you mean we ?”
    “I’ll be sharing the cabin with you. For your protection. We’re listed on the ship’s manifest as husband and wife.”
    “Husband and—of all the cheek! This is totally unacceptable.”
    “It’s the only thing that makes sense. A woman traveling alone is—”
    “Is what? Mannish? Beyond the pale? Please.” She untied the bow beneath her chin and removed her bonnet. “We are living in the Year of Our Lord 1857, not the Stone Age. A grown woman is perfectly capable of traveling safely by herself.”
    “Capable, perhaps. But safely, no. Sailors are an unruly lot.