“At least not when ye’re nearby.” She twirled to the door. “No sense changing things now. Besides, with Nassau so near, I might actually see something interesting when I’m on watch.”

On the way out, Kennan patted her backside. “You’re too bonny to impersonate a lad.”

Divana giggled, then clapped a hand over her mouth, praying no one heard. “Sto-op.”

As they stepped onto the deck, Ethan glared over from his post, manning the crank to the bilge pump. “Mornin’, Captain,” he said, though he was scowling at Divana like he always did.

Kennan looked to the cloudless skies as he assumed his role, gripping the lapels of his doublet, not giving Divana a second glance. He started up the steps to the quarterdeck. “’Tis a fine morning, indeed.”

“Davy,” barked Lachie Mor. “Coil these ropes afore you climb the rigging.”

Divana snapped to attention. “Aye, aye, sir.”

She always tried to ignore Kennan while she worked, but after last night, she felt as if someone had released a vat of bubbles inside her. She’d slept the entire night in the Highlander’s arms. If only she could dance across the deck and sing! Shout to the skies that she was utterly, inexplicably in love.

Stealing a wee peek, she found the braw captain had moved to the helm. He was watching her, too, and gave her a nod. Was he thinking about her as well? Thinking about…Saint Columba’s bones, how was she to endure the entire day until they were alone again?

“Ye are awful friendly with the captain,” said a reedy voice from behind, making prickles nettle Divana’s back.

She didn’t need to turn to know it was Ethan. If anyone had something awful to say, it always seemed to be him. She gave a sharp nod. “He has been kind, taking me under his wing.”

“Och, lassie, ye’re no’ fooling me.”

Her hands froze on the rope as heat flushed through her blood. Lassie? “What are ye on about now?” she barked in her deepest voice. “Have ye gone daft?”

“I ken who ye are. Figured it out when ye were making eyes at the captain.” He leaned down, the stench of sour breath wafting into her face. “Do no’ deny it, else I’ll make a ruckus, but I remember, I do. Ye’re the kitchen maid from Achnacarry.”

She wound the rope with vigor. “Ye’re mad.”

Ethan gripped her shoulder like a vise. “I saw ye churnin’ butter when I went to fetch stores—and ye were talkin’ to Runner.”

Divana’s mind raced. Pursing her lips, she pushed the varlet aside. “Leave me be.”

“Tell ye what.” Ethan waggled his brows, shifting his gaze to her breasts. “You give me what I need and I’ll keep your secret.”