Page 11 of Breath From the Sea
Antónia worked to keep her calm. She gripped the helm, and said levelly, “I did no such thing. He grabbed me. He took liberties he shouldn’t have.”
Sweeney’s regard grew incredulous. Even he knew she was lying. But what else could she say? She could barely admit to herself how much she’d enjoyed kissing Graves, let alone say it aloud.
“And ye kissed him back.”
Blast!Why did he have to go and point that out? Heat that she tried to force away filled her face. “Nay. And it’s none of your business. Besides, he has something that my grandmother wants and I intend to get it back.” And then, of course, she’d keep it, begging a boon from her grandmother who would no doubt allow her to have it.
Sweeney put his hand on the helm, his voice calmer when he spoke. “I think ye’re putting the men in danger.”
Antónia lifted his fingers from the helm, letting them drop back at his side. “Do ye want to be captain, Sweeney? Is that it? Do ye feel ye could do a better job than me?” Antónia placed her hand on the hilt of her sword, a silent warning that she was willing to fight for her ship.
“Nay.” Sweeney shook his head, held up his hands in surrender. “I’d never take it from ye, Annie,” he said, calling her by the nickname he’d given her as a child.
A reminder of how close they were. Of how close he wanted to be.
Antónia scoffed, purposefully ignoring his intended intimacy, even though she knew it would hurt him. But wouldn’t it hurt more if she gave in to feelings she didn’t return? “Then quit your blustering. If the crew is wondering anything, then it’s your job to dispel rumors. You’re my first-mate. I need ye. And I promise, if it wasn’t important, we’d be headed back to Ireland posthaste. But my grandmother is old, and theLionheartholds a treasure she’s been searching for, for nearly thirty years. I want to give it to her before she… Before she… Ye know.”
Sweeney’s expression softened. “Aye, Captain. I know.” He dragged in a breath, lips pressed together as though she’d asked him to reach for the moon and give it to her. “All right. I’ll talk to them. All will be well soon, I swear it.”
Antónia breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Because if there is any man on this ship who’s not willing to do as I say, they can walk the plank. I don’t need a weak link to sour this trap.”
Sweeney took a step back, determination back in his eyes, and any sign of his love for her masked. “Aye, Captain, ye have my word.”
“Raise the sails,” Antónia ordered. “We need to slow down, else Graves gets close enough to see the only difference in this ship is on the surface.”
They followed theLionheart, closing the distance. She’d had her men change from their usual Celtic garb into more mundane English breeches and shirts. No need to call attention. Painted boards bearing the name,Little Dove, were nailed overtop ofLady Hook, a task they’d done a hundred times before. If she wasn’t tricky, she’d not be a good pirate, and if there was one thing she had a talent for, it was piracy.
“If this is going to work, Sweeney, I need ye to pretend to be captain. I’ll climb down the stern and swim beneath the water toward their stern, boarding them without them knowing. It will be better for me to rummage through the captain’s quarters while he’s negotiating with ye. As soon as I have it, I’ll climb overboard and return to our ship.”
Sweeney shook his head and crossed his arms obstinately. “I don’t like this plan.”
“I knew you wouldn’t, but there is little choice in the matter. In and out without anyone the wiser.”
“I don’t think it works that way. At least take someone with ye.”
Antónia squared her shoulders, giving him a no-nonsense expression. “Nay. So remember, ye’re a merchant and ye’ve lost your way. Ye’re looking for East India. Muddy up your face and hair so he doesn’t recognize ye. Wear the fake beard I got ye when we were heisting the Spanish.”
Sweeney crossed himself. “Dear lord in heaven.”
“Cut it out.” Antónia poked him in the chest. “Or I’ll have ye walking the plank first.”
Though he pursed his lips in a pout, Sweeney did stop his prayers.
“’Twill take him a while to give ye correct directions. Waylay him. Then offer to sell him your goods so ye can go back to Scotland.”
“The Scots are the enemies of the English. Why can I not be Welsh?”
Antónia rolled her eyes. “Fine, ye can be Welsh.”
Sweeney grinned like a child just offered a sweet he’d been begging for. “I’ve a cousin who married a Welsh wench. All I have to do is perfect a whiny tone. How is this? We’relooooossttt.”
Antónia blew out a long exaggerated breath. “Heaven help ye if he doesn’t try to burn our ship to make ye shut your mouth.”
Sweeney laughed, a genuine sound that had Antónia’s heart warming. She didn’t want him to be mad at her. Didn’t want him to be frustrated with her either. She needed him on her side for many reasons. To have her back, but also, she needed an ally when she did return to Ireland, because though she’d have a prize her grandmother had long been searching for, she’d also have to explain why she’d violated a direct order to return to Ireland after delivering the gift to the queen.
Antónia descended to her quarters to prepare for the impending heist. She braided her hair, changed into leather breeches and then wrapped linen tightly around her chest, binding her breasts. She pulled on a black linen shirt that wouldn’t be see-through when wet—a mistake she’d made in the past—and then strapped her weapons in place on her arms and ankles. Last but not least, she tied a small bag to her waist, big enough to hold the ring and any spare coins lying around Captain Graves’ chamber. Aye, she wasn’t hurting for coin, but the more she could offend Graves, the better.
Antónia paused a minute, blowing out a deep, calming breath.
She was ready. And she was terrified.
So much had already gone wrong, she prayed nothing else did.
In and out. That was it. Easy and clean.
