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“Poley found a sack of sugar.”
Her feet stopped at his voice and she turned to him, a bemused smile on her face. “He did?”
Roe inclined his head to her. “He did and he was so excited about it he had to come report it to me.”
Her perplexed smile went wider. “And?”
“He went directly about making some treats for you. He’s quite excited to serve them to you, being a proper lady and all.”
She laughed. “That is sweet of him.”
“Pun intended?”
“Aye. A poor one, I am aware.” A gentle ringing of a chuckle floated into the air from her throat. “At least I have one champion on board.”
“I’d say more than one.”
“You would?” Her head tilted to the side, her green eyes intent on him. “Please point out the others to me when you see them, for I believe they are quite sparse—one would think I stole all the rum and tossed it overboard.”
Roe laughed. “You’ll win them over—just don’t do that to their rum.”
Her right cheek pulled up in a half smile. “I have now been advised.”
“Speaking of which, I also need to advise you to smile and choke down whatever Poley brings you when he’s done.”
“Choke down? Why on earth—he has sugar, what could go wrong?”
“There’s a reason we hide sugar from him. I don’t know how he’s so inept at it, but he experiments with it and I have never once eaten one of his ‘treats’ without my tongue curling and then not being able to taste anything for weeks. I think he’s convinced just as much salt needs to go into his concoctions as sugar.”
Her hand lifted, covering her mouth as she laughed. “How could you do this to me?”
“There was no stopping him. So I can only pre-beg for your kindness on the matter.”
Her hand dropped from her face, though the smile still held on her lips. “I am well-versed in politeness, Roe.”
“You’ve never tasted one of Poley’s experiments before. Just don’t crush his spirit. That is all I ask.”
She nodded, her chin determined. “I will endure whatever comes before me.”
“Thank y—”
“Cap, Cap.” Des’s bellow from beyond the helm cut across the din of the deck.
Roe looked over his shoulder to see Des leaping from the quarterdeck and running across the main deck to him.
He turned from Torrie. “What is it, Des?”
Des leaned past him to look at Torrie, then his frantic eyes went to Roe, his voice low. “TheMinerva.”
Roe’s look snapped to the sea, searching. “What? Where?”
“Rigging monkey just spotted it. Six, seven miles south.”
Roe spun in a circle, his eyes squinting as he looked across the glittering water. Nothing. Only the mirage of a far-off ship that could just as easily be a tall swell.
He looked to Des. “You are positive?”
“Aye.” Des pressed a spyglass into his hand. “You’ll need to climb to see it.”
