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her best efforts she still sometimes stumbled. “It’s only when I’m excited or upset or cross,” she added disconsolately.
    Anthony said cheerfully, “I find it appealing.”
    Olivia looked astounded. “You do?”
    He laughed down at her. “Yes, I do. Now, guess why Iwant to catch the galleon. I told you I live off the sea, remember?”
    Olivia slowly lowered the glass. She looked at him in dawning comprehension. This was certainly no gentleman. “That’s
piracy
.”
    “Yes, indeed it is.” Now unsmiling, Anthony regarded her. He knew the kind of response he wanted from her. But would she give it to him? During the days he’d tended her through the fevered concussion, he thought that he had recognized in Olivia the flicker of true individuality that was the bedrock of his own personality.
    But did she have the courage to blow that independent spark into full flame? Would she throw background and caution to the wind and give in to adventure?
    It seemed important to him to find out. He waited, watching her face.
    Olivia frowned at him, speculation in her dark eyes. “But … but it’s dangerous.”
    “Therein lies the appeal.”
    “Does it?” Olivia wondered, the murmur little more than a softly spoken reflection of her own thoughts. Was danger appealing? A little tremor lifted the fine hairs on her nape, and she glanced quickly up at the pirate. He smiled slowly at her and she found herself returning the conspiratorial smile.
    She looked again through the glass. The galleon seemed much bigger than
Wind Dancer,
its four great sails billowing. And now she could see banks of oars along the side, rhythmically sweeping the sea. “She’s going very fast,” she said consideringly, pursing her lips. “Is she faster than your ship? C-can you c-calculate her speed?”
    The little stumble of excitement had given Anthony his answer, and he hid a smile of satisfaction.
    “She’s more cumbersome than
Wind Dancer
. Sheresponds much more slowly to the helm. Of course, under full sail and with the slaves at full sweep, she could outrun us.”
    “Slaves?”
    “Galley slaves. You see the oars?”
    Olivia nodded, still looking through the glass.
    “You’ll smell them soon enough.” His mouth curled in disgust and the amusement vanished from his eye. “They’re kept permanently chained to the oars. They hose them down periodically.”
    “How barbarous!” Olivia’s voice quivered with indignation. “Shall you set them free when you’ve taken the ship?”
    Anthony laughed silently. “You have no doubts that we’ll succeed in this little venture, then?”
    Olivia looked up at him again, her eyes agleam. “No, indeed not. I assume you’ve planned every move with the greatest c-care. You will have taken into account things like wind and tide and the speed of the oars. Things of that nature.”
    “Yes, of course,” he agreed gravely. “All things of that nature have been accounted for.”
    “I would like to know how to make such calculations,” she said thoughtfully. “Mathematics is a favorite subject of mine.”
    “More so than Greek philosophy?”
    Olivia gave the matter some thought. “Sometimes I prefer one, and sometimes the other. It depends if a particular aspect captures my interest.”
    “I can see how that would be.” He looked out over the rail, the secret amusement in his eyes deepening.
    “What of the galleon’s c-cargo?” Olivia asked, dismissing scholarship for the moment. “Is it very rich, do you know?”
    “Very,” he agreed as solemnly as before. “I select mycatches with some care. She’s carrying gold doubloons and silks from the Indies. I feel sure I can put them to better use than can her Spanish masters.”
    “And will you set free the slaves?” she pressed.
    “If you wish it.”
    “I do.” Olivia nodded vigorously. “That seems to me an object much to be desired.”
    “Then we will augment piracy with a little philanthropy,” Anthony stated. He turned to the