Olivia knelt on the floor of the captain's cabin, gingerly sorting through the scattered maps and charts. Her fingers trembled slightly as she smoothed out the creased parchment, her mind still reeling.

The accidental brush of Captain Warble's shoulder against hers lingered on her like a brand, and her cheeks were hot. Why had she reacted like that to him? It wasn't much more than an accidental touch on the dance floor, and yet...she couldn't quite shake the memory of his solid warmth. The scent of his cologne.

His nearness had sent her pulse racing in a way that had nothing to do with discovery. And she couldn't figure out why. He was an exceptionally handsome man, there was no denying that...but she'd met plenty of handsome men. But she was about to share a sleeping space with this one, and he held her future in her hands if he were to discover her true identity.

Yes, that must be it. She wasn't attracted to him. She was worried about her disguise holding up.

Focusing on the task at hand, she gathered the maps into a neat stack, arranging them by region and date. She was determined not to think about the captain, but the memory of how he had listened to her fumbling story about visiting her nephew niggled the back of her mind. Something in his eyes had made her feel like he could see straight through her. Knew she was hiding something.

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought. She would have to be more careful. Even more guarded in her interactions with him. The last thing she needed was for him to grow suspicious and start asking more questions. She had to maintain her ruse, no matter what.

With a final glance around the cabin to ensure everything was in order, she slipped out the door and made her way towards the galley. The tantalising aroma of roasted meat and spices grew stronger as she approached, reminding her it was nearly time to serve dinner to the captain.

As she entered the cramped, steamy space, she was greeted by the sight of the ship's cook, a grizzled man with a bushy beard and kind eyes. He looked up from the pot he was stirring and gave her a gap-toothed grin.

"Ah, there you are, lad! Just in time to get the captain and officers their supper."

Her steps faltered. "O...officers?"

"Aye, lad." The cook poured some peas onto each of the four plates of food. "Most nights, Captain will eat with his officers."

Drat. She would have to walk twice. There was no way she trusted herself to walk across the ship balancing four plates on a tray. With a sigh, she grabbed two plates and made to leave, but a young sailor, barely older than herself appeared at her elbow.

"Here, let me help you," he said, flashing her a friendly smile. "Don't want our captain waiting for his food."

She hesitated for a moment, not wanting to appear more useless than she already did, but the chance of getting everything across to the captain's cabin in one go was too tempting to resist.

"Thank you, that'd be great." She handed the young man the plates in her hands before grabbing the last two and putting them on the tray with the cutlery. "Really appreciate it."

"No problem." He grinned. "I'm Tom. I was Captain Warble's cabin boy a few years ago. You'll soon learn the ropes."

Together, they made their way back across the ship to the captain's quarters. As they approached the door, the rumble of male voices and the clink of glasses made Olivia's stomach clench in apprehension. The more time she spent in front of the crew, the greater the risk of her being discovered. She was beginning to question the wisdom in her scheme to follow Dash across the ocean.

Maybe she should have practised patience and waited for him to return. But what if he didn't return? Or returned with a wife. No, she was doing this.

Steeling herself, she balanced the plates on one arm and knocked tentatively.

"Enter," came the captain's deep voice, sending a little shiver down her spine.

She opened the door and let Tom balance the second set of plates on the tray before he disappeared. Captain Warble sat at the head of the table, flanked by his first mate and two other officers. They all looked up as she entered, their gazes ranging from mildly curious to openly assessing.

Fighting the urge to fidget, she served the meal, carefully placing each dish in front of the men. Her hands shook slightly as she manoeuvred around the table, all too aware of everyone's eyes on her, but when she didn't immediately drop the food in someone's lap, the conversation picked back up again.

She worked in silence, happy to be mostly ignored. After serving the plates, she made sure to refill the men's wine, but she nearly spilled it when one of them threw his arm out as Olivia caught the tail end of his joke.

"...and then she lass says to the vicar, 'That's not my knee, Father!'" the man bellowed, his voice carrying over the laughter of his companions.

Her cheeks heated as she caught the implication, even as the men roared with mirth. Was this what men discussed when women weren't present? Bawdy jokes? Keeping her gaze fixed on the wine, she was determined not to react.

But the sailor, emboldened by the response to his story, leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin. "Speaking of knees, did you hear the one about the barmaid and the sailor who couldn't find his—"

He broke off abruptly, his eyes widening as they fell on her. Had he seen her beet-red cheeks? Most likely, because he cleared his throat. "Er... That is to say... Never mind. Perhaps now is not the best time for that particular story."

An awkward silence fell over the table, broken only by the clink of cutlery and the creaking of the ship. She could feel them staring at her and knew her face must be the deepest shade of red.

Captain Warble chuckled. "That's all right, Mr Turner. Oliver here might be young, but he'll have to get used to adult conversations between sailors sooner or later. We're not in the ballrooms of London. Isn't that right, lad?"

A quick glance confirmed the mirth glittering in the captain's brown eyes. Why did he find this so darn amusing? She forced herself to nod since he seemed to expect a reply and she didn't trust herself to speak.

His lips twitched. "No need to look so scandalised, Oliver. You'll hear far worse than that before this voyage is through, I can promise you that."

The officers chuckled, the tension broken. As they resumed their conversation, Olivia kept her head down and continued with her duties. She couldn't shake the feeling that Captain Warble was enjoying her discomfort a little too much. Every time she glanced his way, she found him watching her with that same knowing look, his eyes dancing with barely concealed amusement.

It was unnerving.

As the meal wore on and the jokes grew bolder as if the officers had forgotten her presence entirely, she found herself struggling to keep her composure. She was no wilting flower, and had a fairly good idea of what happened between a man and a woman in the marriage bed—or out of it—but the conversation topics still made her ears burn and her stomach churn.

Only Captain Warble seemed to remember she was there, his gaze drifting to her face every time a particularly vulgar comment was made. She couldn't tell if he was gauging her reaction or simply enjoying her discomfort, but either way, it made her skin prickle with self-consciousness.

By the time the meal finished and the officers retired to their own quarters, she was exhausted, both mentally and emotionally. When she decided on this plan, she'd never considered how tiring it would be to constantly be on guard. To make sure she didn't let her disguise slip. As she cleared the last of the dishes from the table, she could feel the captain's eyes on her, and she braced herself for another teasing remark.

But when she finally met his gaze, she was surprised to find a flicker of something like concern in his eyes.

"You did well tonight, Oliver," he said quietly, his voice serious for once. "I know it can't be easy, being thrown in the deep end like this. But you did well."

She swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard. "Thank you, sir," she mumbled, ducking her head. "I... I'm trying my best."

A faint smile played at the corners of his mouth. "I know you are, lad. Keep it up, and you'll do just fine on this ship."

With that, he turned and headed towards the alcove containing his bed, leaving her to finish her tasks in silence. The unexpected kindness in his words warmed her. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't be too tasking a master. Even if he did seem to take far too much pleasure in her moments of awkwardness.

Shaking her head ruefully, she gathered up the last of the dishes and slipped out of the cabin. It took her some time before she returned, staying in the galley to wash up and eat some food herself. After such a long day with a lot more physical work than she was accustomed to, she was looking forward to a night's sleep.

However, all drowsiness disappeared the moment she approached the sleeping area. Her steps faltered and her mouth dropped open. Captain Warble stood by his bed, his broad, muscular back turned towards her...and his shirt discarded.

Why was her mouth so dry? Unable to look away, she took in the wide set of his shoulders, the corded strength of his arms. She'd never seen a man without a shirt before, and the realisation almost made her feel guilty that the first one she saw was the captain and not Dash. Almost.

As if sensing her presence, the captain turned, his gaze meeting hers. For a moment, he said nothing, the glint in his eyes unreadable.

"Ah, Oliver," he finally said. "I was just getting ready for bed. I trust you're ready to turn in for the night as well?"

She nodded mutely, her gaze now riveted on his bare chest. It was improper to stare so blatantly, but she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the sight of his tanned skin, the flat planes of his chest, the trail of dark hair leading from his belly button to disappear into his breeches. She swallowed with some difficulty.

Captain Warble cleared his throat, and she startled. Groaning inwardly, she admonished herself for being caught ogling. What must he think, having his cabin boy stare at him with his mouth open?

"Is there something on your mind, lad?" He was smirking now, one eyebrow raised. "You seem a bit...distracted."

This was mortifying. She spun around, her cheeks burning. "No, sir! I just... I'm just...tired."

She could hear him chuckling behind her as she began fumbling with her clothing. What should she do? It was becoming more and more clear she had not thought this plan through enough. Maybe being impulsive wasn't always the best thing. Why hadn't Rain put more effort into stopping her from this foolish adventure?

It was a blessing that she had been invited to share the captain's quarters. If she'd been forced to sleep with the crew in the fo'c'sle, everything would have been even more difficult. The captain had even told her she could make use of his private facilities for doing her needs, so she wouldn't have to use the head with the other sailors. All considered, Captain Warble was incredibly accommodating to his new cabin boy.

But she wasn't sure how to solve the sleeping situation. She couldn't very well strip down or the captain would immediately see she wasn't a boy. With a sigh, she resigned herself to sleeping in her clothes. She eyed the hammock hanging in the corner, wondering what the best and easiest way of getting into it would be.

"Not undressing, Oliver?" the captain's drawl made her turn her head, and she immediately regretted it. He was lying in his bed, the sheets pulled up to his waist and his arms folded behind his head as he watched her with lazy amusement.

"No, I'm fine."

She tried to climb into the hammock and thought she was doing a pretty good job...until the world suddenly inverted and she found herself sitting on her arse on the floor, her head spinning. The captain's laughter carried across the room, and with a glare in his direction, she jumped to her feet and pulled her cap back down. Blast it!

"If you don't know how to get into a hammock," the captain murmured, mirth still lacing his voice, "you can always come and share my bed. It's big enough."

Whirling around, she stared at him. While his expression was innocent enough as he smiled at her, something made it feel like he had issued her a challenge.

"Do you often share your bed with cabin boys?" she asked pointedly.

"No," he replied slowly, his eyes not leaving hers. "But this is the first time I've had one unable to get into a hammock. I can't very well let you sleep on the floor now, could I? The duchess would have my head."

While she didn't doubt for a moment Rain would be appalled to find that her friend had been forced to sleep on the floor, she couldn't shake the feeling the captain was secretly laughing at her. Well, maybe not so secretly. He had quite literally laughed when she fell out of the hammock.

"I'll be fine," she grit out, turning back to the offending piece of fabric.

It took her a few tries to properly get into the swaying contraption. She could hear the captain trying to stifle his laughter as she struggled, and her face burned with embarrassment. But, finally, she settled into the hammock and could pull the blanket up to her chin.

"Bravo." The captain turned down the oil lamp by his bed. "Good night, Oliver."

"Good night, Captain."

For quite some time, she lay there, staring up at the low ceiling of the cabin as her mind whirled from the events of the day. She was acutely aware of Captain Warble's presence just a few feet away, the sound of his steady breathing filling the room. It was a strange feeling sharing a bedchamber with a man like this. Even if he believed her a boy, because she most definitely knew she wasn't...and her reaction to the handsome captain wasn't helping things.

It would be a long voyage. Long and dangerous, in more ways than she had ever imagined. With a sigh, she tried to push the troubling thoughts from her mind. She had to stay focused on her goal, on her love for Dash and her determination to win his heart. There could be no distractions. Nothing, and no one, could keep her from going after what she wanted.

But as she finally succumbed to sleep, it wasn't Dash's face that filled her dreams. It was a pair of warm brown eyes, a roguish smile, and the solid weight of a shoulder pressed against her own.

~~~~~~