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Chapter 18

  • He looked up from the screen to show Miranda the pictures he had just discovered, but she wasn’t next to him. He looked around the room; she wasn’t there. Where had she gone? Getting up, he left the screen opened on the pirate lore he had found. The Net might know almost all, but it had not captured the essence of being on the depths of the sea... Shaking his head, he wandered into the kitchen, such an odd word to a man used to a galley.
  • “Miranda?” he called out softly. He paused outside of the wash closet and listened. Not a sound. He looked toward the stairs and quickly followed them up to the next floor. She was not in her art room.
  • He moved to her sleeping quarters and stopped by the door to see her curled on top of her bed. He must have lost sense of the time. Although not having to stop and let a body rest may have him slightly foggy on keeping track of time. Her womanly form was still wrapped in the stirring white cloth, and in sleep she appeared as a virginal offering. He sighed and went over closer to the bed.
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