Eden's Pass (15 page)

“Attacking mere boys these days, Mateo?” Iñigo asked mildly, leaning up against the railing alongside him, lifting one foot to brace against it.

“Attacking him?” Mateo sniffed, lowering his arm to shake his head. “Is that what the whelp told you? A joke, that.”

An inward sigh. “How so? From what I understand, Finn was scrubbing the deck, minding his own business.”

“I think not. The boy seems to forget his place onboard this ship. He seems to think he is more than a lowly cabin boy. That he is a man instead of a mere boy.”

“And think you it’s
your
place to remind him?” Iñigo asked coldly, straightening up and facing Mateo, crossing his arms over his chest and aiming a level look at him.

Mateo swiped at his forehead again. “When I see a man loafing about?
Sí, Capitán
. I think it my business.”

“Think again, my friend. This is
my
ship, which makes it
my
business and mine alone.”

“The whelp bloodied my head! And yet naught happens when it was his provocation at the first.”

“Need I speak to every man present?” Iñigo growled, still holding Mateo’s gaze, narrowing his own. “Think you they will concur with your version of the events?”

Mateo swore in Spanish, adding, “The whelp ought to taste a hint of the lash.”

“Think you so? And what of you? It wasn’t the boy tussling about alone up there. What punishment would befit
your
actions?”

“
Capitán
, I was but protecting myself.”

Iñigo snorted. “
Protecting
yourself? From a mere wisp of a boy? Think you I am daft? Think you I am so great a fool as to believe such nonsense?”

“But—”

“But nothing.” Iñigo shook his head, gesturing over his shoulder with one hand. “Take yourself up to the foredeck at once. You will assist Finn in his scrubbing and you will do it without incident. Should another scuffle break out, both parties will feel the sting of the lash. Is that understood?”

Mateo's jaw tensed, but he nodded and spat out, “
Sí, Capitán
.”

Iñigo’s jaw tightened as he watched Mateo slink across the deck, toward the foredeck. He had to tread carefully where Finn was concerned. If he was too lenient, the others were bound to mutiny. If he was too severe, he would lose all chances of ever wooing her into his bed.

A smile teased at his lips. Finn was jealous of Honoria. She didn’t seem to realize how easily he read her. How, at the mere mention of the English girl, Finn's jaw tightened, how the corners of her lips tightened. It was in the derision that laced Finn's voice every time she was forced to speak Honoria's name. The tension was almost visible and made him want to chuckle in amazement. As his body had reacted to Finn on a base level, she let him know she desired him almost the same. She wanted him almost as much as he did her.

He did want her, and the yearning seemed to grow by the hour. Though Honoria had made it abundantly clear she was willing to offer her company, Iñigo wasn’t at all tempted. But when he caught sight of something as innocent as Finn's bared arm or foot, heat swelled within him. Somehow, he need find a way to get her to lower her defenses long enough for him to woo her into his bed. Then, and only then, might he rid himself of the maddening lust.

He put
those
thoughts from his mind as he stood there for a long moment, waiting for Finn's reaction as Mateo stomped up to the foredeck. She lifted her head, exchanged a few words with Mateo, and turned her back on him. It brought a genuine smile to Iñigo’s lips and lifted some of the worry from his mind as he went back to attending his own duties.

Chapter Seventeen

“Boy!”

Finn gritted her teeth, doing her best to ignore Mateo's elbow gouging her in the side as she moved to the foremost portion of the deck. She’d been able to ignore him for most of the afternoon, which was no easy feat as Mateo attempted to get a rise out of her at every turn. Instead of taking the bait, she simply scrubbed harder. Indeed, the deck had never been as clean as it was when she finished a section.

“Boy! I’m speaking to you!”

She glowered at the brush, pressing harder into the planks. It was more than a mite irritating, but she certainly didn’t want another scuffle to break out between her and Mateo once more.

“Boy!”

“Leave me be!” she finally snapped, jerking her head up to turn her scowl in his direction.

“Answer me when I speak to you, boy,” Mateo growled, nudging her again, this time catching her in the arm.

He caught her squarely in the healing wound, sending a blazing explosion of pain blasting through her. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she managed to swallow the fiery pain, her red-hot frustration, and forced a whistle to her lips and turned her attention back to the scrub brush.

“Such a
pretty
lad you are,” he taunted, thrusting his brush into the bucket with enough force to send a small spray of droplets over her.

Her whistle wobbled for a moment, but she recovered without any hesitation in her scrubbing. It was almost amusing, as the water was cool and she was boiling, as usual. Of course, the water was dirty, but so was she. Where was the harm?

“So pretty, with that
angel’s
face of yours. I’ll wager more people mistake you for a lady than a lad,
Angel
Face.”

Finn's blood bubbled in her veins. It became more difficult to ignore her rising anger, to ignore Mateo's sneers. Her belly tightened with each successive barb, her hand gripped the brush harder with each slur. Swallowing hard against her sparking temper, she fought to concentrate on the remaining deck needing to be scrubbed.

“Tell me,
muchacho
, do many men try to steal a kiss when they see your pretty little face?”

She rocked back on her knees, hands and scrub brush resting on one thigh as she snapped, “Why can you not simply leave me be? Why is it you are so concerned with my face? Mayhap because
you
wish to steal a kiss?”

She struck a nerve. A dull flush swept up into Mateo's swarthy face. His beard twitched, his eyes narrowing to cold slits, and his fingers went white as he clutched his brush.

“What did you say, boy?” he growled, slowly setting down the brush and placing both meaty hands on his hips.

“I do believe you heard me, man. I’ll not repeat myself.”

He got to his feet. “I’ll wring your scrawny little neck for that.”

“Try it.”

“Think you I won’t? Think you that pretty little woman’s face’ll protect you?”

A slight flutter unfurled in her belly at the menacing gleam in Mateo's eyes as he took a step toward her. She didn’t doubt whatsoever he intended to make good on his threat.

“Leave me be.” She rose to her feet, facing him head on, determined to prove to him she was not afraid, to prove she didn’t see him as any sort of threat.

“I think not, boy. Time you learned where you fall onboard this ship.”

“
Eurk!
” It was the only sound she managed as he lunged suddenly, hand outstretched and wrapping about her throat in one fluid motion. He squeezed, cutting off her air as she struggled to peel his fingers from her neck.

“I’ll crush you, boy,” he snarled, lifting her up and tightening his fist further, smiling as she fought to breathe. “Crush every last bit of breath from your scrawny little lungs.”

Dots danced before her eyes, her blood pounded in her temples, and her feet dangled uselessly in the air as she clawed at the back of the huge fist holding her several inches off the deck. She gouged chunks of his flesh from the backs of his hands as her head throbbed, every fiber in her body screaming for air. Another squeeze, and she no longer even managed a gurgle. Her ears rang as the dots spread out into a growing blackness. All sound died away, leaving behind only a sickening pounding pulse in her head.

Through the thickening darkness, a darker shadow fell over them. The fist crushing her windpipe was torn away and she dropped to the deck. She went sprawling across it, coughing and choking as she was able to breathe once more. The air filling her lungs was the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted, and she savored each deep, if painful, breath.

She lifted her head, forcing her eyes into focus. Diego had pinned Mateo to the deck, his knee lodged firmly in the man’s throat. Finn groaned, rubbing her neck, as another shadow fell over them.

Every line, every muscle in Iñigo’s body strung taut with fury, his eyes cold and flat as he stepped up, growling, “Stand back, Diego.” as he eased his sword from the scabbard at his hip.

Diego did as he was told and Iñigo moved closer to Mateo, pressing the tip of his sword blade into the man’s throat. “You son of a bitch. You attack the boy,
after
you’ve been warned once already?”

“
Capitán
,
por
favor
—”

“
¡Silencio!
” Iñigo thundered, exerting more pressure on the blade until Mateo squeaked and fell silent. Iñigo turned to Diego. “Check on the boy.”

Finn still lay face down, coughing as she dragged air into her lungs. Diego crouched beside her to gently roll her onto her back. “Finn?”

“Aye?” The word emerged as a dry, dusty croak. She winced at the scratchiness in her throat.

His face remained passive as he nodded. “Good. Rest now. You are out of danger.”

She nodded, wincing again as a pounding headache took root behind her eyes. Reaching up to rub her throat, she sat up slowly as her eyes fell on Iñigo standing over Mateo.

“I’ve warned you for the last time,
amigo
,” he said, lifting his blade from Mateo's throat to sheath it with fluid grace. “I tolerate much, but I will
not
tolerate an attempt on another man’s life.”

“
Capitán
, please—”

“Quiet!” Iñigo glanced at Finn over one shoulder. “Diego!”

Diego stepped up. “Aye, Captain Sebastiano?”

Finn's head pounded harder as Iñigo launched into his native tongue. She sunk back against the rail, still rubbing her sore neck, and hoping it wasn’t bruised. Still, it was most wonderful to be able to breathe again, and it wasn’t something she’d ever take for granted again.

Iñigo switched to English. “And now, for those men who speak no Spanish, I have ordered a punishment of fifty lashes. Should anyone be fool enough to attempt the same thing, it will rise up to one hundred. Is this clear?”

Finn nodded, though she doubted his words were meant for her. She let her eyelids droop, her head falling back against the sleek wood. Mateo whimpered pathetically, tears in his voice as he begged his captain for mercy. His sniveling made her want to retch. He sounded pathetic, not at all the braggart he’d been only a short time ago.

“Finn?”

Iñigo’s voice was low in her ear. Forcing her eyes to open to find him crouched beside her, she replied with, “Aye?”

“Are you all right?”

A slow nod. “I’ll be fine.” The tips of his fingers brushed her throat and she was quick to add, “I am certain it looks far worse than it feels.”

“Let Farruco tend to the bruises.”

She shook her head. The last thing she wished was to share space with Honoria. “It’s not necessary.”

“Mayhap not, but it is still my order.”

“Captain—”

He didn’t let her finish, but leaned back and shouted, “Farruco!” over the buzzing din of men.

Farruco was tall and slender, clean shaven but no less menacing. Still, Finn stared up at him as he knelt beside her and said, “You will come with me. I will tend to your bruises.”

Her heart fluttered against her ribs as he took her arm and tugged her to her feet. She glanced back at Iñigo, who had already turned his attention back to Mateo.

Farruco steered her toward the forecastle, guiding her down to his cabin. Honoria was already there, of course, tidying up as they entered.

Farruco greeted her warmly and she returned his smile, asking, “What happened?”

Gesturing to Finn for her to sit in one of the two chairs, he replied, “Fight. The cabin boy and Mateo.”

Finn bristled at being called
the cabin boy
, but swallowed her irritation as she rasped, “My throat?”

Honoria squinted at her. “Do you need keep him here?” she asked Farruco, pointing at Finn. “Your captain has invited me to dine with him this eve. It would be most inconvenient, not having a servant boy.”

Finn would have snorted in disbelief, but her sore throat prevented it. It was too hard to reconcile this seemingly well-heeled woman with the roughly spoken guttersnipe they’d found cowering in a battered wardrobe. Quite impressive, the way Honoria traded in personalities, but it made the urge to reach out and slap her even stronger.

Putting Honoria from her mind, Finn turned to Farruco. “Well?”

He probed at her throat, shaking his head. “I think no damage was done, aside from the swelling and the bruising. Have you trouble drawing breath?”

“Nay. My throat is a mite sore, but I can breathe with ease.”

Honoria clicked her tongue against her teeth. “That puts my mind at ease. You are fit to serve, then?”

Finn shot her a glare. “I will find a way, to be sure.”

Farruco nodded in agreement. “There is little else I can do, save for suggest you rest a bit. I will escort you back to Captain Sebastiano's cabin.”

Finn rose from her chair. “But the deck—”

“Will wait. You will want to rest up so as not to miss Mateo's punishment at sunset.”

She couldn’t hold back her shudder. “Am I expected to witness this?”

“I certainly wouldn’t wish to miss it,” Honoria broke in smugly. Her tight smile suggested she didn’t enjoy being ignored.

However, both Finn and Farruco ignored her just the same as Farruco said, “I should think you would want to, as the man did try to choke you.”

Questions would be raised, should she suggest it would suit her to miss it. Instead, she asked, “Get some rest, you say?”

He nodded. “Aye. Come along, and I will bring you back to Captain Sebastiano's cabin.”

Finn remained silent as she followed him back to Iñigo’s cabin. The last thing she wished to see was Mateo's flogging. A sour taste rose in her mouth, but she didn’t know if she would be able to convince Iñigo it was something she had no desire to witness. Or how to broach it without raising questions she did not wish to answer.

Iñigo.

Her nausea returned at the notion of having to serve both Iñigo and Honoria that eve. She couldn’t explain it, but it made her sick to her stomach. When Iñigo sent her to the forecastle to be with the others, it would be simply for him to be alone with Honoria.

“Although I have no inkling
why
I ought care. I care only about regaining my freedom.”

Finn hadn’t realized she’d spoken the words aloud until she looked up to find Farruco regarding her with a queer expression on his face. “Is something troubling you, Finn?”

“Nay. A mite shaken, I suppose. It’s not every day another man tries to take my life.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile. “Aye, I’ll wager it isn’t. Well, here we are.”

“Thank you.”

His eyes narrowed, but he still remained silent. Finn put him from her mind as she stepped into Iñigo's vacant cabin and pulled the door shut. As it clicked, she leaned back against the satiny wood. She glanced down. Her hands actually trembled. The feeling spread through her entire body until she was shivering uncontrollably.

Sinking down into one of the chairs, she fought to halt the quaking without success. She wrapped her arms around herself, pressing down into the back of the chair. “You need stop this, Finn,” she scolded firmly. “Stop being such a ninny. You don’t cry. Do you hear that? You
don’t
bloody
cry
.”

Scolding didn’t work. Her trembling worsened, her eyes filling with tears she fought to hold back. Leaning her head back, she blinked furiously as the door opened behind her.

“Finn?”

“Aye?” She swiped at her eyes.

He came around to the front of the chair, crouching down before her. “What did Farruco say?”

“There is naught he can do about the bruises. It looks as though I will live to see the sunrise.”

Iñigo frowned and reached out, brushing his fingertips over her neck. “Do you wish to lie down a while?”

She shook her head. “I think it best that I return to my chores at once, lest eyebrows be raised.”

“Let them rise.”

The vehemence in his voice surprised her, as did the darkness creeping into his eyes. “Captain?”

He didn’t answer, but stood and bent to lift her easily from the chair. “You will rest,
mi dama querida
.”