Vivienne was still awake when Rosamunde climbed down into the hold, a fact which the older woman noted immediately. She beckoned to Vivienne, coaxing her up onto the deck.
To Vivienne’s surprise, it was morning. She had lost track of the passage of time in the darkened hold. The sky was still overcast, though the clouds had the smooth patina of a pewter platter, and the wind was light. There was a promise of rain, but for the moment there was none. The sea still churned, though she could not see the silhouette of land in any direction.
Rosamunde must have sensed her distress at that. “It is safer to be away from the rocks and shoals of an unfamiliar shore during a storm,” she said in a consoling tone, then smiled ruefully. Vivienne could see shadows beneath her aunt’s eyes, which were no
