Swept Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book One)

Chapter Twenty-Six

It was sad, to see the sliver of land fading away as we moved farther out to sea two days later. I'd enjoyed being a woman again, showered by kisses and affection from Tristan, so much so that Gran took to escorting me everywhere in order to keep an eye on us. I would miss her, as well as my ability to talk freely, while I was on board the Adelina.

As far as silver linings went, Tristan was a huge one. Glancing down into the pit, I could see him talking with a few of the men, laughing over some story they were sharing. Just the sight of him made my heart soar and my skin long to be touched by him again. How far would we go next time? I'd never told him I wasn't a virgin. Would that upset him? My forced silence left me with a lot of time to think things over. It was too soon for sex I felt, but boy did I want it at times. What did they use as birth control in this time period?

Shaking my head, I put the thoughts from my mind. We hadn't even done anything more than kiss and here I was, thinking just like another member of the crew. They'd returned from their shore leave happy and a little less lustful than normal, their desires having been thoroughly satisfied for the moment. That didn't stop them from sharing bedroom stories, though, the bragging turning into everyone's top form of entertainment in the couple hours since we'd set sail.

Captain Rodrigues had coaxed another woman on board with him this time around, drunk as a skunk and sputtering every other word to anyone who would listen to him. The woman, who I was certain had taken more than a fair amount of money from him, didn't seem to mind the fresh bruise around her eye, drinking from his bottle and acting just as obnoxiously. Some of the crew had muttered against this, but no one said anything to them directly, instead turning to Tristan, who ran the ship as efficiently as always.

He glanced up at me then, his smile spreading as he caught my eye, but he quickly moved on, not wanting to attract any attention.

"Sam," Father Torres said, coming up beside me. "It's almost time to start cooking. Are you ready?"

Nodding, I pushed away from the side and followed him around the pit and down the stairs, past the gun deck, and into the galley.

"I trust your leave was enjoyable?" He began pulling things out, setting them into groups as he normally did.

Unable to tell him what had happened, I simply nodded again, recognizing the ingredients he was picking and knowing what we were making. I started helping him, measuring things out and mixing them together.

"I stayed at the church for most of it, myself. I hope you didn't mind?"

I shook my head, smiling at him from underneath my hat. Why would I mind?

"Good," he chuckled. "I didn't think until later that you might have needed assistance." Lowering his voice and scooting closer, he looked around for eavesdroppers before continuing. "You were with Señor O'Rourke, no?"

I confirmed the best I could, taking the spices he offered me.

"Good, good. Señorita, would you tell him something for me? No one would be watching for you to speak with him, everyone thinking you're mute. But, I did see something when I came back from the chapel, last night."

Furrowing my brow in question, I also glanced around, checking for anyone nearby.

"It is Thomas Randall. He was calling the men to arms, saying it was time for a captain who wasn't always slobbering drunk and handing his duties off to the quartermaster. He was urging them to consider a vote, with him as their candidate."

My insides went cold at his words and I frowned, concern filling me. So he was making good on his threat to try and take the captaincy. That was something Tristan needed to know sooner rather than later, but I wouldn't be able to tell him until tonight.