“Then it’s settled,” Domitian said firmly. “Matilda can see to the particulars.” Or he hoped she could, anyway, because he had less than no desire to be involved in the planning of any of this. Besides, it made no difference to him whether they were married in the next five minutes or at the end of the season, except that the longer it took the longer he would have to keep track of Mr. Prewett to ensure he upheld his end of the deal — but since they were all currently interred in a floating prison, there was no immediate danger of escape. And anyway, finding people who were on the run was what Domitian did for a living, so Mr. Prewett wouldn’t get far if he did try to leave.

“Welcome to the family, Mr. Prewett.”

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