He made no reply to that, but only went to the port side to lean on the railing. With a wink and a toss of her great head, Ophelia urged Althea to join him there. Althea sighed ruefully, then followed the ship's suggestion.

“You haven't said much to me, these last few days,” Grag remarked quietly to the night sea.

“My work has kept me busy. When your father gives me a ship's ticket, I want to have truly earned it.”

“You already have. No one on board this vessel would ever dispute your ability. However, I do not think you have truly been that busy. I think our last conversation made you uncomfortable.”

She did not deny it. Instead, she noted, “You speak very directly, don't you? I like that.”

“Simple questions usually get simple answers. A man likes to know where he stands.”

“That's reasonable. A woman needs some time to think.” Althea tried to keep her tone light but not flippant.

He did not meet her eyes as he pressed her. “Most women don't need time to think about whether or not they could love someone.” Was there a trace of hurt in his voice?

“I didn't think that was what you had asked me,” Althea replied honestly. “I thought the topic under discussion was a possible marriage between us. If you are asking whether I could come to care for you, then I believe the answer is an easy 'yes.' You are thoughtful, courteous and kind.” Althea glanced toward Ophelia. The figurehead was intently motionless, staring over the water. Althea pitched her voice just a trifle louder. “Not to mention that you are very handsome and likely to inherit a beautiful ship.”

As she had hoped, they both laughed, and suddenly the atmosphere eased. Grag reached casually to cover her hand with his. She did not move away but added in a lower voice, “Marriage is not about love alone. Especially not a marriage between two Bingtown Trader families. For that is what it would be, not a simple joining of you and me, but an alliance of our families. I have to think of many things. If I married you, and went to sea with you, what would become of my own ship? All I have done in the last year, Grag, I have done with an eye to recovering her. Would marrying you mean giving up Vivacia?” She faced him and he looked down on her with shadowed eyes. “Would you give up the Ophelia to marry me and live with me aboard the Vivacia while I captained her?”

The shock on his face made it evident he had never considered such a question.

“And that is but the first of my considerations. I must ask myself, what would I bring to our partnership, other than my family's debts? I inherited nothing from my father, Grag. Nothing except the sailing skills he taught me. I am sure my family would give me some sort of a dowry for the sake of respectability. But it would not be what you could usually expect to accompany a Trader's daughter.” Althea shook her head. “You could get more marrying a Three Ship's girl. They'd pay richly for the family connection.”

He lifted his hand from hers. There was almost a chill in his voice as he asked, “Did you think that was why I made my proposal? To see how good an offer your family would make?”

“No. Nevertheless, it is something I must consider, if only for the sake of my pride. You were the one who suggested that perhaps planning should come ahead of passion. So I consider the situation from every angle. Look at it coldly, Grag. To marry you, I must not only give up my ship, but also see her in the hands of a man I despise. To marry me, you must give up other partners who might create lucrative alliances for your family. If you consider these aspects, it does not look promising for us.”

Grag took in a slow breath. “I suppose you are right and-”

“Just kiss her, you great booby!” Ophelia hissed loudly.

Althea burst into a laugh that was cut off by Crag's mouth on hers. The kiss was startling, but her body's response to it was shocking. Heat washed through her and she turned toward him, lifting one hand to his shoulder. She expected him to embrace her and continue the kiss. Before she could wonder how far she would allow him to continue, he lifted his mouth from hers and drew back a little. He would not. This was Grag, not Brashen, she reminded herself. He was ruled by his head, not his passions. She denied the disappointment in the comparison. In the moment that he lifted his mouth from hers, she convinced herself that if he had not broken the kiss, she would have. Grag Tenira was to be taken seriously. He was not an anonymous fling in a distant seaport. How she conducted herself with him would affect the rest of her life in Bingtown. Caution was the better path.

She took a breath. “Well!” she said, in a tone intended to convey surprise without affront.