Separate Cabins (7 page)

Shortly after late-sitting breakfast was announced, Rachel entered the dining room and was shown to her assigned table. It was located in a far corner of the room, quiet and away from the flow of traffic to the kitchen and the waiter service areas. Two couples were already sitting at the table for eight when Rachel arrived.

An exchange of good mornings was followed by
introductions. She was immediately confused as to which woman was Helen and which one was Nanette, and their husbands were named something like John or Frank. Rachel didn’t even make an attempt to remember their last names. Since they would be sharing every meal together from now on, she knew she would eventually get the right names with the right faces.

While the waiter poured a cup of coffee for her, Rachel glanced over the breakfast menu. A third couple arrived, a young pair in their twenties, compared to what Rachel judged to be the average age of forty for the other four. After they were seated, there was only one vacant chair—the one beside Rachel.

“I’m Jenny and this is my husband, Don,” the girl said. There was a bright-eyed, playful quality about her that seemed to immediately lighten the atmosphere at the table.

Her introduction started the roll call around the table again, ending with Rachel. “I’m Rachel MacKinley.” Although the others hadn’t, she tacked on her surname. She supposed it was probably a business habit.

The waiter hovered by her chair to take her order. “Orange juice, please,” she began. “Some papaya, two basted eggs, and Canadian bacon.”

When she partially turned in her chair to pass the menu to the waiter, Rachel saw Gard approaching their table. All the ones close to them were filled, so his destination could be none other than the empty chair next to her.

Something should have forewarned her. Until
this moment she hadn’t given a thought to where he might be seated. But it was obvious they would be seated at the same table. They had been assigned to the same cabin, so naturally as man and wife, supposedly, they would be assigned to the same table.

That moment of shocked realization flashed in her eyes, and Gard saw the flicker of surprise in their gray depths. A smile played at the edges of his mouth. Rachel faced the table again and reached for her coffee cup, trying to keep the grim resignation out of her expression.

“Sorry I’m late,” Gard said to the table in general as he pulled out the vacant chair beside Rachel and sat down. “It took longer to shower and change than I thought. Has everyone ordered?”

“We just got here, too,” said Jenny, of the young married couple, assuring him quickly that he wasn’t the only late arrival. “I’m Jenny, and this is my husband, Don.”

The round-robin of names started again, but Rachel stayed out, not needing to introduce herself to him. “I’m Gard MacKinley,” he finished the circle and unfolded the napkin to lay it on his lap. “Is this your first cruise, Jenny?”

“Yes. It’s kind of a second honeymoon for Don and me,” she explained. So far, Rachel couldn’t recall Jenny’s young husband saying a word. “Actually I guess it is our first honeymoon since we didn’t go anywhere after our wedding. Both of us had to work, so we kept putting it off. Then the baby came—”

“You have a baby?” The balding man looked at
her in surprise. Helen’s husband—or was it Nanette’s? As many times as their names had been said, Rachel would have thought she’d have them straight, but with Gard sitting beside her, she wasn’t thinking too clearly.

There was a crisp darkness to his hair, still damp from the shower, and the familiar scent of his after-shave lotion drifted to her. No matter how she tried not to notice, he seemed to fill her side vision.

“You don’t look old enough to be a mother,” the balding, forty-year-old man insisted as he eyed the young girl.

“Timmy is six years old, so I’ve been a mother for a while.” Jenny laughed. “I’m twenty-five.”

“Where’s your little boy?” Helen or Nanette asked.

“Grandma and Grandpa are keeping him so Don and I could take this cruise. It was a chance of a lifetime, and we couldn’t pass it up. The company Don works for awarded him this all-expense-paid cruise for being the top salesman in his entire region.” It was plain to see how proud she was of his achievement. “It’s really great, even if I do miss Timmy already.”

“Nanette and I have three children,” the man said, providing Rachel with the name of his wife.

“We have four.” Which meant that woman was Helen. Helen with the henna-hair—Rachel tried for a word association and discovered the woman had turned her glance to her. “How many children do you have?”

“None,” she replied, knowing how much she regretted that now. The waiter came and set the
orange juice and papaya before her, thus relieving the need to add anything more to her answer.

“You’re leaving it a little late, aren’t you . . . Gard?” Helen’s husband hesitated before coming up with his name.

“I suppose I am,” he murmured dryly and slid a bemused glance at Rachel.

The elderly couple was one thing, but Rachel didn’t intend to let this misconception continue. Her cheeks were warm when she looked away from him to face the rest of their companions at the table.

“Excuse me, but we aren’t married, even though we do have the same surname.” Her assertion attracted startled and curious looks to both of them. “I know it’s all very confusing.”

“I’m sure you can all appreciate that it’s a long and complicated story.” Gard quietly followed up on her statement. “So we won’t bore you with the details. But she’s right. We aren’t married to each other.”

There was an awkward silence after their announcement. Rachel had the feeling that henna-haired Helen would love to have been “bored with the details.” There were a lot of questions in their eyes, but Gard’s phrasing had indicated they wouldn’t be welcomed. For the time being, their curiosity was being forced to the side.

A minute later everyone was trying to talk at once and cover up that awkward moment. The waiter took the last three breakfast orders while his assistant served the meals of the first ones. With food to be eaten, there wasn’t as much need for conversation.

“What kind of work do you do?” Rachel heard someone at the table ask of Gard. It probably seemed a safe inquiry. She slid him a curious, side-long glance, realizing again how little she knew about this man.

“I’m an attorney in Los Angeles,” Gard replied.

Rachel had never prided herself on being able to fit people to occupations by sight, yet she wouldn’t have guessed he was in the law profession either. There was no resemblance at all between Gard and John Kemper. Thinking of her friend’s husband, she was reminded that John thought he had recognized Gard. Since they were in the same profession in the same city, it was probable he had.

“Is this your first cruise?” Jenny put to him the same question he had asked her.

“No.” There was a brief show of a smile. “I’ve sailed on the
Pacific Princess
many times. The engineer happens to be a personal friend of mine. This is about the only way to spend any time with him, since he’s out to sea more than he’s in port.”

Which explained to Rachel why it had appeared he’d been given preferential treatment when he’d been allowed onto the ship prior to the normal boarding time—and why the purser had known him.

The table conversation digressed into a discussion of the crew, the advantages of working aboard ships, and speculation about the length of time they were away from home at any one stretch. Rachel mostly listened while she ate her breakfast.

She stayed at the table long enough to have a last cup of coffee after the meal. When Nanette and her husband pushed back their chairs to leave, she
elected to follow them. Gard still had a freshly poured cup of coffee to drink—not that she really thought he would make a point of leaving when she did, or even wished to avoid it. But when she left the dining room, she was alone.

The ship was huge, virtually a floating city with a population of almost a thousand. It was amazing to Rachel how many times she saw Gard that first day at sea, given the size of the ship and the number of people aboard. Some of it was to be expected, since he was assigned to the same station when they had emergency drills that morning. Naturally she saw him at lunch—and again in the afternoon when she went sunning on the Observation Deck.

Soon she would be meeting him again at dinner. It was nearly time for the late-sitting guests to be permitted into the dining room. In anticipation of that moment a crowd had begun to gather, filling the small foyer outside the dining room and overflowing onto the flight of steps. Rachel waited in the stair overflow, standing close to the bannister.

With the suggested dress that evening calling for formal wear, there was a rainbow of colors in the foyer. The style of women’s dress seemed to range over everything from simple cocktail dresses to long evening gowns, while the men wore dark suits and ties or tuxedos.

Her own choice of dress was a long flowing gown in a simple chemise style, but the black tissue faille was a match with her jet-black hair. A flash of silver boucle beadings and cording was created by the
splintered lightning design across the bodice, a compliment to her pewter-gray eyes. Rachel had brushed her black hair away from her face, the curling ends barely touching her shoulder tops. Her only jewelry was a pair of earrings, dazzling chunks of crystal. The result was a striking contrast between the understatement of the gown’s design, with its demure capped sleeves and boat neckline, and the sleek, sexy elegance of black hair and fabric.

Near the base of the stairs Rachel spotted the henna-haired Helen and her husband, Jack, standing next to Nanette and her husband, whose name Rachel still hadn’t gotten straight. She considered joining them, since they shared the same table, but it would have meant squeezing a place for herself in the already crowded foyer, so Rachel decided against it.

Her attention lingered on the couples. Helen looked quite resplendent in a red and gold evening dress that alleviated some of the brassiness of her copper-dyed hair. When she turned to say something to Nanette, her voice carried to Rachel.

“I don’t care what you say,” she was insisting. “No one will be able to convince me those two are brother and sister—or even cousins.”

Nanette’s reply was lost to Rachel, but she tensed at Helen’s remark. Although Helen hadn’t identified the people by name, Rachel had an uneasy suspicion she was one of them. A second later it was obliquely confirmed.

“You heard both of them say they weren’t married,
but they are still sharing the same cabin. I know,” Helen stated with a smug little glance. “I was looking at the roster of passengers this afternoon to find out what cabin the Madisons were in so I could call them and change our bridge date. It was right there in black and white—both of their names with the same cabin number. Just what does that suggest to you?”

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Rachel’s stomach. It was obvious that Helen had construed that she and Gard were lovers. It was one thing to have people believe they were married, and another thing entirely to have them suspect they were conducting an illicit affair.

With the way Helen’s mind was running now, Rachel doubted that she would ever believe the true story. The coincidence was so improbable that she would think it was a poor attempt to cover up their affair. Trying to explain what had actually happened would be futile now. More subtle tactics were required.

The dining room opened and the waiting guests poured in. Rachel let herself be swept along with the inward flow while her mind continued to search for a way to divert the mounting suspicions. The two couples were already seated when she approached the table.

“That’s a stunning gown you’re wearing, Rachel,” Helen complimented as Rachel sat in the chair the waiter held for her. “Especially with your black hair.”

“Thank you.” Rachel smiled with poise, not
revealing in her expression that she had any knowledge of the conversation she’d overheard. “It was a favorite of my late husband’s,” she lied, since she had purchased it the year after Mac’s death to wear to a social function she had been obliged to attend.

“You’re a widow?” Nanette inquired.

“Yes.” Rachel didn’t have an opportunity to add more than that, the exchange interrupted by Gard’s arrival. On its own, it did nothing to dispel suspicion.

Her glance went to him as he pulled out the chair beside her. His black formal suit enhanced the long, lean look of him, adding to that worldly, virile air. The hand-tailored lines of the jacket were smoothly formed to the breadth of his shoulders and his flatly muscled chest. The sight of him made a definite impact on her senses, alerting her to the powerful male attraction that he held.

“Good evening.” It was a general greeting in a masculinely husky voice as Gard sat down and brought his chair up to the table. Then he turned a lazy and probing glance to her. She felt the touch of his gaze move admiringly over her smoothly sophisticated attire. “I didn’t see you at the captain’s cocktail party in the Pacific Lounge.”

“I didn’t go,” she replied evenly, but she had difficulty preventing her breath from shallowing out under his steady regard.

“So I gathered,” he murmured dryly, as if mocking her for stating the obvious.

Out of the corner of her eye Rachel was conscious that Helen was interestedly observing their quiet
exchange. She increased the volume of her voice slightly, enough to allow Helen to hear what she was saying.

“You never did mention how you liked the owner’s suite,” she said to Gard. “Is it satisfactory?”

A smile lurked in his dry brown eyes, knowledge showing that he had caught the change in her voice while he attempted to discern the purpose. Rachel tried to make it appear that her inquiry was merely a passing interest, with no ulterior purpose.

“I could hardly find fault with the owner’s suite.” Gard spoke louder, too. Covertly Rachel stole a look at the red-haired woman and observed the flicker of confusion as it became apparent that they weren’t sharing a cabin. “Why don’t you come up after dinner and I’ll give you a tour of it?” Gard invited smoothly. Rachel shifted her glance back to him.