Juliana had been so excited when he’d said she and her mother would join him on his next voyage. But now her mother was gone, and the thought of taking an adventure without her only made the loss more painful.

“Why so glum, Princess?”

Startled, Juliana turned around. The speaker was a wharf rat—one of the orphaned children who lived off the scraps and leavings on the docks. She guessed he was twelve or thirteen, though it was hard to tell from his filthy clothes and half-starved appearance. Yet despite his deplorable state he held his head high, and his striking sky blue eyes met hers without a hint of uncertainty. “I’m not a princess,” she admitted with strange reluctance. “And I’m crying because my mother died.”

A haunted look shadowed his eyes. “Cor, that’s a blow. Me own mum weren’t much good to me, but I still miss her sore. Right here,” he said, pointing to his thin chest. “Like someone carved out my heart and forgot to sew it back up.”

“Yes, that’s it exactly,” Juliana cried in amazement. “Father says I must be brave and keep a stiff upper lip. But I keep feeling my lip and ’tis ever so soft. And Grenville says I’m a baby for crying. Do you think I’m a baby?”

The boy stared at her, as if amazed that his opinion would matter. “I think that anyone what loves enough to hurt ain’t no baby.”

“And do you think my upper lip will ever be stiff to please my father?”

The boy’s gaze traveled to her mouth. A strange vulnerability shook his confident expression. “Your lips be fine. In fact, you’re … perfect.” Clearing his throat he took a step away, and touched the forelock of his muddy blond hair. “I’d best be going.”

“Oh, don’t. Please. Here, I’ve got a penny.”

The bright confidence in the boy’s eyes died. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and backed away. “I ain’t no charity. I never asked for coin.”

“But your clothes are so awful and you’re so thin—”

“I ain’t no charity!” The boy still held his chin high, but there was a gleam of shamed tears in his eyes. “I’m Connor Reed and I make my own way, see. Always have. Always will.”

Juliana watched the boy stalk away, struggling with emotions too deep for a young girl to understand. She’d promised her cousin that she wouldn’t leave this spot. She’d promised her father that she’d listen to Grenville.