Why wasn't she out on the upper deck yet?
Brand stared at the door that led to the lower deck with an intensity that might have set the wood ablaze. Cold wind swept through the rigging, disturbing the sails. The skies were vividly blue, though dark clouds lingered in idle clusters.
When another breeze blew, Lawrence shouted out, "Henry, keep the sails steady!"
"Aye, sir," the young man replied.
Brand remained quiet in his chair. His quartermaster had taken over the duty of the helm since first light, yet instead of retiring to his cabin, he had lingered, waiting.
He was still waiting.
Was she not awake yet? How so? The sun was well aloft. Should she not be about her duties? Should she not be on deck now, searching about for whatever she deemed right? He grimaced. Why was she absent from it still?
