Page 31 of Murder on the SS Leviathan
She gave five rapid knocks. Still, there was no reply.
Tears pricked her eyes. What was she to do now?
Again, she looked behind, but a patch of mist had enveloped her. She could see nothing. But, from below, came a long, slow whistle.
Some night bird?
Fearful, she pressed to the wall. If someone were to approach, she would at least see them and be able to defend herself.
But with what?
She’d walked out without thinking of such a necessity.
Lucrezia had shown her, once, how to close her fist for making a punch, and how she might raise a knee to strike between the legs—but she’d never had cause to use either method of defence.
Could she deter someone intent on harming her?
It seemed unlikely.
She’d have to scream, hoping to wake someone.
The whistle came again—at the same low pitch—and she froze.
If she ran back along the deck, to her own rooms and beyond, she’d pass the cabin now occupied by Claudette and reach that of her brother. Surely, if she called loudly enough, she’d be able to wake him.
But what if there was nothing untoward? Henry would think she was losing her wits. Did she dare make a fuss at this hour, raising him from his bed?
As her choices ran through her mind, the whistle came a third time and, she couldn’t be sure but, her name seemed to carry through the mist.
That hadn’t been her imagination!
Summoning her courage, she stepped towards the rail, peering through the shifting vapours. Then, they parted and she uttered a half-strangled cry.
The figure looking up at her was no stranger.
She knew him first by his golden curls, and then by his height and the broadness of his shoulders.
Lance!
Lifting her skirts, she dashed down the staircase, heedless of who else might be concealed in the mist. Only one thought drove her: that she must reach him.
He caught her as she flung herself against his chest.
‘Whoa there. It’s only me. You’re safe.’
The rush of emotion was too great. Cecile gave a sob and pushed away. She had a terrible urge to stamp her foot.
‘What are you doing out here?’
He pressed his finger to his lips, answering in a hoarse whisper. ‘I ought to ask you the same. It’s gone three. You should be asleep.’
‘I happened to look out and see you, but I thought you were…’ Cecile felt another sob coming on.
‘Hush.’ He brought his arms around her. ‘I’m sorry you had a fright.’
Cecile gave a sniff.
‘I’ve been here since midnight, and the same yesterday. Henry’s convinced he saw someone, just before Maud fell—though he’s keeping that to himself for the time being. He doesn’t want to alarm her.’
