Voices Beckon, Pt. 1: The Voyage

  “LOOK AT THE BRIGHT SIDE, David,” Liam said, as they played yet another game of cards. “The wind’s at least moving us in the proper direction.”

  “Aye, and it’s moving the air below as well. Could be worse.”

  “Aye, we could be swimming,” Liam said, grinning.

  David laughed. Or drowning. Life was good. It was the day after Christmas, and the Captain had ordered all passengers confined below, owing to the strong wind coming out of the east. Most didn’t notice, too seasick to move from their berths.

  The game of choice below deck was Whist, and they never lacked for partners in the long evenings aboard. Mr. Oliver had indeed seen to it that David was taught the game, and he had learned it quickly and well, albeit not as well as Mr. Oliver and his boys.

  As closely as he’d observed Liam’s swift calculations and strategy, he didn’t think he’d ever match him. And some days there wasn’t any point in playing against someone he hadn’t a hope in hell of besting. He’d suggested they play Loo this morning.

  “Where are we, Rob? Did ye find out?” Liam asked, looking up from his hand as Rob joined them.

  “Dinna ken, no’ for sure.”

  “Ye? Or the crew doesna?” David asked. Rob was normally full of the particulars, given he spent a fair amount of time with the seamen.

  Rob shrugged. “They’re no’ sharing.”

  There was talk amongst the others that they were only a few days out from Cape Henlopen. David thought that might be true; they had begun to see smaller craft in the sea and birds as well. The crew was reluctant to discuss their position, though, even Alex, and the talk amongst the passengers was just that, talk.

  Sarah sat next to David.

  “I’m so cold, David,” she said, hunching her shoulders in a shiver, surprising him as she moved in close. She hadn’t spent time with them in the last few weeks; he figured she’d lost interest. It wasn’t a secret he fancied Elisabeth, not anymore. He gave her a brief smile, turning his eyes back quickly to his cards. No wonder she was cold, the cut of her gown as low as it was. Lass needed a mother.

  “Ye’re feeling well enough then, are ye, lass?” Liam said. “Angus over there’s been trying to keep you warm for days now, darlin’.”

  She ignored him, entwining her arm with David’s. “Are you sure you want to be playing cards again, David? It’s all you’ve done for hours.” She pressed up against his arm, scooting closer. “There’s ways more entertaining to pass the time. Cozier ways.”

  He grunted, not answering.

  Liam laid down several of his cards.

  David groaned at the set and reached for another card. If he ignored her long enough, she’d go. Wouldn’t she? Wasn’t that the way of it?

  He didn’t know; how would he?

  “Angus?” Rob asked. “Ye’re meaning the lad that won the deed to that German fellow’s farm last night?”

  She put her other hand on his thigh beneath the table, and the cards in his hand curled as his grip tightened.

  “One and the same,” Liam said. “He’s riding high. Word is that farm ‘bout runs itself. He’ll just have to sit back and count the profits.”

  David concentrated hard on his cards, choosing one and discarding it. Hell, he could have laid down the key to his game, for all the sense he could make of the figures. He risked a glance down at his arm. Sure enough, those lovely breasts pressed up against him were threatening to spill over. She was actually a sweet lass. They could pass the time together. She could erase the spell Elisabeth had cast.

  Now . . . there’s a thought.

  “That and watch his back. The German’s wife was fit to be tied,” Rob said.

  Her hand moved higher, her grip on his arm tightening. His eyes crossed. Mayhap . . . it wouldn’t hurt to just . . . it couldn’t hurt just this once.

  “Willna do her much good. The man won it fair and square. Right, Davey?”

  No. He clenched his teeth, reaching below the table to move her hand. Even if he could be sure Lisbeth wouldn’t hear of it, Uncle John sure would, and he’d have his hide.

  “Davey?”

  “What? Oh, aye, right.”

  He lay down a set and deliberated on the remaining cards in his hand.

  “I think ye already lost, David,” Rob said, his voice laced with amusement.

  “Do you only plan to play at cards, David? Maybe I should go.”

  He turned to her, managing a weak grin. “Sure, Sarah, wish me luck for the next round.”

  She stood, her pretty pink lips puckering in a pout as she turned and headed in Angus’ direction.

  “Do you two rehearse in advance?” David asked quietly.

  “Deal me in, will ye?” Rob said. “Think the lad’d be more appreciative, wouldna ye, Liam?”

  “Indeed I would, Rob.”

  “I’m verra appreciative. Just was wondering, that’s all.”

  “‘Specially seeing’s how it’ll only be ‘bout twenty minutes afore she realizes ol’ Angus hasna more than the shirt on his back,” Liam said, “and likely ne’er will.”

  David looked around, spotting his uncle. “Uncle John,” he called. “Up for a game?” He patted the empty spot next to him.

  “Sure, David. What’s the choice, gentlemen?”

  “Whatever Liam prefers,” David said, tossing in the balance of his useless hand. Sarah hadn’t gone to Angus, her father had waylaid her, and he looked a bit angry. Good, he was paying heed.

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