Page 30 of Rose
Chapter Eleven
Rose stood beside Tristan, his hand at rest on the small of her back while Philip presented each member of the new crew to her. The welcome she received was a refreshing change from the last time introductions had been made. She knew some of the men might worry about having a woman on board, but since she was the captain’s wife, they were unlikely to voice their concerns. Each man smiled and bowed at the waist in turn. Some even seemed genuinely happy to meet her.
“It is a rare pleasure,” said a stocky man called Piper. He had a rim of wispy blond hair around his bald head and a tattered, faded red kerchief around his neck. Rose spied a small flute tucked into his belt alongside his dagger. The merry glint in his eyes made her believe that at any moment he might break into song.
Next, she met the cook, Timothy, who swept his hand high before bowing with a gallant flourish. Then without a word, he darted back down to the galley, from which Philip said he seldom emerged. After Timothy disappeared, a hefty man came forward. Her eyes widened when Philip introduced her to Jacob. At first glance, he appeared wider than he was tall. His arms bulged with thick, rippling muscles, and when he breathed, his barrel chest expanded, spreading the laces of his tunic. Beside him stood a young man of no more than ten and seven years. He had red hair every bit as bright as hers and a sweet face spattered with freckles. “I’m Davy, Mistress Thatcher,” he announced before Philip could. When Rose smiled at him, his cheeks turned almost as bright as his hair.
“’Tis a pleasure to meet ye, Davy.”
A short while later it was time for dinner. Rose, Tristan, and Philip sat at a table that had been carried onto the forecastle. It was Davy who brought their tray around. He set a wooden bowl, brimming with a richly scented stew, in front of her, plus a large slab of buttered bread.
“Is there anything else I can get you, Mistress Thatcher?” the young lad asked.
“I have all that I need and more, Davy. Thank ye.” Her words of praise heightened the flush of cheeks. Grinning at her, he started to back away without serving Tristan or Philip.
Tristan cleared his throat. “Ah, Davy, do you think we might have some stew as well?”
Davy’s eyes widened. He rushed forward, serving his captain and quarter master all the while his cheeks grew redder and redder, until Rose thought he looked like a blushing ball of fire.
“Will that be all, Captain?” Davy said, bending in an awkward bow.
Tristan wore a bemused smile. “Yes, Davy, run along now.”
The cabin boy scurried away, down the forecastle stairs, then into line with the other men who held wooden bowls and awaited their ladle of stew from the cook’s pot.
“Did you enjoy your trip ashore?” Philip asked, drawing her gaze.
She smiled. “Enormously.”
Tristan leaned in. “I have given Philip the details of our meeting and our union.”
Philip grinned and raised his cup of ale. “To the happy bride and groom,” he said loudly.
“To the happy bride and groom,” the crew echoed, raising their cups high.
Rose and Tristan both arched their brows at Philip before they turned and smiled at the men. After they downed their drinks, Tristan leaned close, speaking quietly to Rose. “Moments before we spotted you drifting on the waves, I prayed to the sea for an answer to my trouble, and then you appeared.” Before he continued, he scowled at Philip. “I also prayed for the sea to send me a new quarter master, but that request has gone unanswered.”
“We’ll just have to keep praying,” Rose said, unable to hold back her smile.
Philip sighed dramatically. “One day in the not too distant future, you are both going to thank me.”
“We’ll thank you for not making any more toasts,” Tristan said, arching his brow.
Rose nearly spit out her half-chewed bite of stew. “Or speeches. Definitely, no speeches.”
Philip winked at her as he slowly started to stand. Then he stretched his arms wide. “Attention, men, I have a few words to—”
Tristan and Rose each grabbed one of the quarter master’s arms and yanked him back down. “Do I need to send you to your room again?” Tristan scolded.
But Philip only smiled. “I shall behave myself. You both have my word.”
“Why do I not believe ye?” Rose said, smiling.
Their meal continued without further antics from Philip. Before long, the sun dipped just below the horizon. Rose stared out to sea at the soft rippling waves shimmering violet beneath the twilight sky.
~ * ~
Tristan studied Rose’s profile as she cast her gaze out over the darkening sea. He could feel her passion. It was the same passion that burned inside him. The spirit of the waves and tides lived inside her. He could feel it pour off her whenever she grew pensive and gave herself over to its power. Her hands gripped the table. He knew she was likely unaware of how her fervor showed on her face. He leaned closer, drawn to the longing that mirrored what he felt in his own heart. But then he stiffened the instant after a look of utter anguish crossed her features. It was fleeting, like the flap of a bird’s wing, and yet he knew what he had seen.
