Chapter Fifteen
Rose scanned the busy deck, her heart beating wildly.
The crew scurried up and down the rigging, toting lines as they prepared to unfurl the massive square sail.
Another group of men hoisted the anchor.
Her eyes brightened when she spotted Davy coiling the wet anchor line into a large wooden crate. She hastened over to help him.
Coming up behind the cabin boy, she guided the line into a neater coil.
“Mistress Thatcher?” Davy gasped when he noticed her.
She smiled. “Rose will do nicely,” she said. Then before he could protest her efforts, she pointed to the line bunching at his feet. “Ye’re getting behind,” she warned.
He turned and quickly took up the dripping rope, feeding her the wet length.
“Rose,” someone said behind her.
Rose’s shoulders stiffened as she recognized Tristan’s deep voice. She turned around to meet his gaze, but she did not quit feeding the line into the crate.
He motioned for her to join him.
“I will be right back,” she said to Davy who looked past her at Tristan with wide, terrified eyes.
“Don’t be daft, Davy,” she scolded. “Ye’ve done nothing wrong, and neither have I. He likely wants to commend our good work.”
The moment she locked eyes again with Tristan, she knew she was mistaken. His disapproval was present in the heavy furrow of his brow. She crossed to his side and started talking before he could. “Ye cannot possibly object to me coiling a wee bit of line.”
Tristan looked like he wanted to praise her and take her over his knee all at the same time. He drew closer and bent his head near her ear. “But you are my wife now, Rose. Remember? It is not appropriate for you to scurry about the ship like one of my crew.”
She lifted her shoulders. “But I am not a pampered merchant’s daughter or noblewoman.
Yer men know my humble origins.” She held out her calloused palms. “I’ve spent my life laboring.
Ye ken I’ll go mad if I do not have some purpose.
” She smoothed her hands down the front of her green tunic.
“I’m wearing my most serviceable garment. ”
He only shook his head in response.
She bristled. “Do ye really want a mad woman on yer ship?”
“She makes a strong argument,” Philip chimed in, appearing at her side. “Mad women are messy creatures.”
The stubborn lines in Tristan’s face softened. He threw his hands up. “Help Davy, then. But you’re not to climb the rigging, and I forbid you from hoisting the anchor.”
She smiled. “Thank ye.” Then she turned on her heel and started to walk away.
“Rose,” Tristan said, drawing her gaze once more. “If any of the men look at you...well...like you’re mad, just tell them captain’s orders.”
“Aye aye, Captain,” she said with a wink.
Then she hurried back to Davy’s side. After they finished storing the anchor line, she helped him clean the grit and salt off the anchor’s fluke.
By then, she and Davy were fast friends.
She found out that he was a Londoner and the oldest of five children.
When he was just twelve years of age, his father had passed away.
That was when he signed on with Tristan so that he could provide for his mother and younger siblings.
This was the final leg of a two year stretch at sea.
“Ye must be aching to see yer mum and yer brothers and sisters,” Rose said.
Davy nodded, his red curls bouncing. “They give me a hero’s welcome whenever I return home.”
She smiled. “As well they should. Ye work hard caring for the ones ye love.”
“Davy, stop gawking at the captain’s wife and get to your post,” Piper called from across the deck.
Davy’s ears turned red, but his smile didn’t falter. “Up I go.” Then he turned and grabbed the rigging. His young, agile body nimbly climbed to the top. Rose stood watching with admiration as he balanced across the yard, then dropped into the nest.
“There’s room for one more,” he called down to her.
She smiled and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Are ye daft? I’d kill myself climbing up there.”
“You’ll be fine,” the lad shouted. “Don’t you want to see the world from up here.”
She smiled. “More than ye could possibly know, but that doesn’t mean I can. Anyway, Captain’s forbade me.”
“I said you couldn’t climb the rigging,” Tristan said, appearing at her side. “I never said you couldn’t go aloft.”
Smiling, she whirled around. “What are ye proposing?”
He unraveled a rope and wove it through a small iron wheel. Then he waved Piper over. Piper plodded across the deck, holding his red handkerchief.
“Aye aye, Captain,” he said as he wiped the beads of sweat off his shiny bald head.
“Take this aloft?” Tristan said, holding out the pulley and line.
Piper quickly retied the red fabric around his neck.
Then, he grabbed hold of the rope and, in a flash, scrambled up the rigging and hooked the wheel through one of the iron rings along the yard.
Just as quickly, he scurried back down while Tristan knotted a loop in the bottom of the rope and slid his foot into the hole.
Then he turned to Rose. With one hand gripping the rope, he flashed her a heart-stopping smile and opened his arm, inviting her into his embrace.
She squealed, unable to contain her excitement while she wrapped her arms around his neck. He gripped her waist firmly. They locked eyes. His danced with warmth. Smiling down at her, he continued to hold her gaze as he called out. “Steady as you go, men.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Piper and Jacob, whose thickly muscled arms were on display in his tunic with cutoff sleeves, began to slowly pull the rope, and up they started to rise.
“Don’t let go,” she cried, clinging to Tristan’s neck as they rose higher and higher. When they neared the crow’s nest, Davy scampered out onto the yard, which he straddled while they took over his perch.
Tristan put his foot into the rigging before lifting her into the crow’s nest. Then he climbed in behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her flush against his body.
“Despite Davy’s claim, there is really only room for one in here.”
She smiled up at him. “’Tis snug, but I prefer that. I feel more secure.” She glanced down and a shiver shot through her. They were towering above the deck.
“Don’t look down,” he advised. “Look out.”
The moment her gaze lifted, she forgot their great height.
A jolt of wonder shot through her. The sun beat down overhead, casting beams of light that danced like stardust across the water’s surface.
The ocean surrounded them. Never had she felt so powerful and so insignificant in her whole life—a feeling that was at once freeing and terrifying.
Exhilaration coursed through her veins, causing her heart to thud against her chest. She raised her arms high above her head, reaching for the puffy white clouds that dotted the bright blue sky.
“Look,” she exclaimed, pointing toward a family of dolphins leaping above the waves in a beautiful display of elegance and strength.
It was so glorious that it was almost too much to bear. Tears stung her eyes.
“Are you all right,” he said softly in her ear, his lips brushing her skin.
She nodded. The endless blue water now blurred in her eyes.
She blinked the moisture away. “This is more stirring to my soul than anything I could have dreamed.” She turned away from the rippling waves and swooping seagulls and tilted her head back to meet his gaze.
“Thank ye,” she said. “Ye cannot know how much my soul needed this.” A soft gasp escaped her lips as he reached out and slowly stroked the backs of his fingers down her cheek.
“Captain!” Jacob called up, snaking their attention. “Timothy found a small leak in the bilge.”
A regretful smile tugged at his lips. “It would seem your ship requires my care.”
She cleared her throat. “I do insist ye keep her seaworthy for me.”
He hoisted himself up on the rail of the nest with ease before balancing on the yard next to Davy. Then, taking hold of the line, he reached for her.
“Remember,” he smiled. “Don’t look down.”
“Unless you want to,” Davy chimed in.
She buried her face in Tristan’s neck as they glided down to the deck. When her feet touched down, his arm lingered around her waist. “You worked hard today. Will you consider resting before the evening meal?”
She nodded. “I hate to admit it, but my strength has not fully returned.”
He released her and stepped back. “I will send Davy down with a fresh pitcher of water for you to wash, and I would like to request that you change for supper.”
She looked down at her tunic. “Why must I change?”
He smiled. “When we reach London, you will have to change for every meal. I thought it might be wise to start practicing now.”
“Ah-ha,” she said, smiling. “Now I understand why ye bought me so many tunics.” She lifted her chin in the air. “I will do my best to make myself presentable for the evening meal,” she said mimicking his accent. Then with a wink, she crossed the deck and disappeared down the hatch to their cabin.
TRISTAN STOOD ON THE forecastle, gazing out to sea. He was joined by Philip who stood with his back against the rail.
“The wind favors our course,” Tristan said. “If we maintain this speed through the night, we might arrive in Calais by tomorrow evening.”
Philip nodded. “Hours earlier than our best time. Let us just hope it doesn’t change direct—” The quarter master’s words ended abruptly.
Tristan whirled around and spied what had left Philip so speechless.
Rose stood on deck, dressed in a copper brocade surcote over a turquoise silk tunic with a yellow kirtle beneath.
About her waist hung a braided leather belt, which secured her dagger.
The sapphires glinted in the waning sunlight.
Over her unbound red curls, she wore the silver and sapphire circlet and a delicate white veil, which lifted in the breeze.
She stopped and spoke with Davy who was staring at her like a lovesick pup, and who could blame him? She was a vision.
“Captain.”