Seonag waited untilshe was sure Honey wasn’t going to return to the cabin before jumping up and refreshing herself. She was becoming increasingly uncomfortable from having her breasts bound and wished she could release them for a bit, but there was no time. She did release her hair from her cap, unwound her plait, and ran her fingers through it, clearing away any tangles. Her scalp loved the freedom. She massaged it a bit before once again plaiting her hair into a coil and covering it before heading out the door.
When she walked into the galley, Duncan looked at her like he didn’t know who she was. She ignored him, leaning against the table where he worked, and had a look at what he was making. “Ye’re baking Pandemayne?” she asked, referring to the dough he was kneading. Seonag was impressed. That particular type of bread was usually only made for the wealthy.
“Aye, are ye familiar with it?” he asked, flipping the dough, then pushing his palm into it and rolling it forward.
“I am.” She rolled up her sleeves and grabbed one of the balls and began kneading alongside him.
They soon fell into a natural rhythm and before long had all the Pademayne kneaded and set aside to rise.
“Do ye know how to use a knife without slicing off one of yer fingers?” Duncan questioned.
She rolled her eyes and snatched a knife from the table. “Of course I do.”
“Good. The apples need peeling and slicing.”
Looking around, she spotted a crate filled with apples. “Where did ye get these?” She knew apples were out of season.
“One of the ships we raided no’ too long ago had a cache of them,” he answered as if that was perfectly normal.
She guessed it was in their world. She shouldn’t be surprised. How many times had her father come home, bringing her an item from a faraway land, that wasn’t something they could have sourced locally?
They worked mostly in silence for the next two hours, preparing the food for the crew to break their fast and readying the food they would cook for the evening meal. Duncan kept to himself unless he was barking out an order, but she had the feeling he was enjoying the help.
“Bollocks,” Duncan hissed as he grabbed his hand.
Seonag glanced over and immediately sprang into action at seeing the bloody trails streaming between his fingers. She grabbed a stack of linens and rushed over.
“Let me see.”
“’Tis fine.” He murmured as he squeezed his hand.
“’Tis verra well no’ fine,” she parroted and grasped his hand. “Let go so I can take a look,” she demanded.
He did and she nearly fainted. The cut was deep. Deep enough that she could see the white bone in his finger. She swallowed the lump in her throat and wrapped a strip of cloth tightly around his wound. “Do ye have needle and thread?”
“Do I look like a seamstress to ye?”
“Hold this and dinna let up the pressure. I’ll be right back.” She ran out of the room in search of what she needed. The supply room was locked, so she moved on. She needed to find Honey. She turned the corner and ran right smack into Sweeney.
“Watch yerself, ye little runt,” he spat.
She ignored his insult. “Do ye know where Captain Honey is?”
“Mayhap. Why do ye want to know?”
“I dinna have time to play yer games.” She moved to go around him and he grabbed her by the shoulder and stopped her from moving forward.
“What do ye need him for?”
“I dinna have to answer to ye.” She tugged her shoulder free and continued on looking for Honey. She found him as he was descending the stairs from the quarterdeck. “Captain.”
His brows furrowed as he took in her flustered state. “What’s wrong?”
“I need, um, I need a needle, thread and whisky if ye have any.”
“I have all, but what happened?” He spun her around when she started back toward the galley. “Lad, take a deep breath. Talk to me.”
“It’s Duncan. He’s cut himself in the worst way. I need to sew his hand up to tamp the flow of blood.”
