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as one of the seagulls wheeling and diving overhead.
    “Well, what a resourceful creature you’ve turned out to be,” Anthony observed as she stepped onto the dazzling white decking. His eyes crinkled, a smile gleamed as he took in her costume.
    “Do you mind?” Olivia grabbed the rail as a gust of wind filled the big mainsail and the ship heeled sharply.
    “Not in the least. It’s an ingenious use of a garment for which I myself have no use at all,” he responded with a careless gesture.
    Abruptly Olivia wondered where he’d been sleeping while she’d been occupying his bed. A slight flush warmed her cheeks and she turned her studied attention to the landscape.
    “You don’t mind my coming up here?” She shaded her eyes to look out across the expanse of water, welcoming the breeze that cooled her cheeks.
    He shook his head. “Not if you feel strong enough. But don’t forget that you’ve spent three days on your back.”
    “I feel perfectly strong,” Olivia asserted, reflecting that it was not entirely true.
    Anthony didn’t believe her; she was still far too wan for robust health, and he knew better than anyone how much essence of feverfew, wormwood, and poppy juice he’d poured down her resistant throat in the last few days.
    “I only look so pale and limp because I’ve just left my bed,” Olivia said, reading his shrewdly assessing gaze correctly. “I need to bathe and wash my hair. I feel grubby.”
    He nodded with a little accepting shrug. “That can be arranged later. We might even be able to find you some fresh water.”
    “Hot water?” she asked eagerly.
    “That might present more of a problem. But if you speak really nicely to Adam, it could be forthcoming.”
    “Galleon on the port bow,” a voice sang out from way above Olivia’s head. She looked up into the rigging and made out a tiny figure standing on a ledge way at the top of the mizzenmast.
    “Ah, good!” the master of
Wind Dancer
said with obvious satisfaction. “Now we’ll wear ship, Jethro.”
    “Aye, sir.” The helmsman began to turn the wheel.
    Anthony kept his eyes on the mainsail now, whistling softly between his teeth, then he said crisply, “Olivia, hold the rail, we’re ready to go about.”
    “Go about where?” Olivia looked puzzled. Where was there to go?
    He only laughed. “I forgot you’re a landlubber. Just hold the rail as the great boom swings over.”
    Olivia did as he said, and clung tightly to the railing as he called a series of incomprehensible orders that took men swarming into the rigging, loosening shrouds as thefrigate swung into the wind. The massive boom hung in the air for a moment, the mainsail empty of wind, then as the helmsman put the wheel hard over, the wind caught the sail and the boom swung to starboard with a thump. The sails filled once more and
Wind Dancer
skipped along on her new tack.
    Now Olivia could see that the painted ship she’d noticed from the cabin was much closer, sailing straight towards them, it seemed.
    She waited until everything had settled down again and the ship’s master was once more serenely looking up at the sails, hands still clasped at his back.
    “What is that?” She pointed to the painted ship.
    “Ah, now that is the
Doña Elena
.” He looked down at her and his eyes were alight with pure mischief. “We’ve been waiting for her to venture forth from her cozy harbor for several days.”
    “Why … why have you been waiting for her?”
    “Because I am going to catch her.” He took a telescoped spyglass from the pocket of his britches, opened it, and examined the painted ship. “Have you ever seen a Spanish galleon before?”
    Olivia shook her head.
    “Here, take a look.” He handed her the glass.
    Olivia put it to her eye and the garish vessel sprang into her vision. “Why are you going to c-catch her?” She flushed with annoyance at the slight stammer. “I wish I c-could stop that!”
C
was the hardest consonant for her, and despite all