Eden's Pass (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

The island jewel of St. Philippe did little to raise Finn’s spirits as she stood at the forecastle, watching the pale white sands of the island’s beaches grow larger as the
María
drew near. It was a beautiful morning, with clear azure skies, warm ocean breezes, and the shriek of seabirds overhead.

Freedom was within her reach, and yet graying mists of depression seeped into her body. She was happy to know she would be free to leave if she desired, but it offered very little comfort. Especially now, after what had happened between her and Iñigo. She sighed, wondering how it was she had no inkling of how drastically things could change, all the while remaining the same.

Despite their one night of passion, she returned to the role of cabin boy and he did not hesitate to order her to mingle with the others each evening before supper. It was confusing, to say the least, especially as he did not seek her out again. Of course, she was fairly certain Honoria received no invitation either, but it did little to ease her flagging spirits. She never knew how torturous it could be, becoming intimate with a man with whom there could be no future. She hadn’t expected her feelings to run the gamut from absolute joy to sheer, utter hopelessness, or that she would breathe a silent sigh each time her eyes fell upon Iñigo Sebastiano, which they did quite often in the five days following their one magical night.

She shook her head to clear it, forcing herself back to the present. Beyond the foamy breakers, the cove was tranquil, waves lapping at the white sand. The cove’s entrance was by far rougher,
María
tossing wildly as they slipped past the rocky promontories guarding the inlet. Once beyond those breakers, the water was as smooth as polished steel and a beautiful sapphire shade Finn had never seen before.

The island was not quite as she expected. There were no grand plantations, or large manor houses, such as the ones on Barbados. Instead, small cottages, with brightly tiled roofs dotted the lush green countryside. There were less than a handful of ships moored in the cove, and all flew the same flag as the
María.
All sailed for Iñigo Sebastiano, much to her surprise.

As they neared land, there was what looked to be a thriving, if small, harbor. There were only a few empty berths, and Iñigo wasn’t hesitant about sailing straight for them. Apparently one was his and only his. Beyond it was a small marketplace. It also looked to be thriving, as people strolled along the docks, emerging and disappearing behind the stalls with canopies of turquoise, coral, orange and red. The shouts of the vendors carried out over the water, but it was impossible to make out what they peddled, as their voices were muffled and blended into one distant hum.

The sun was high overhead when Iñigo approached. There was no sign of the pirate Captain Sebastiano in the man crossing toward her. Instead, he’d transformed himself into a surprisingly believable gentleman, dressed in buff-colored breeches and a billowy white shirt with a midnight blue silk sash tied about his waist, an elegant plumed hat atop his head, and his saber fastened at his hip. He smiled as he stepped up to her. “Ah, Finn, ready to take your leave of the
María
?”

“What will become of us? Of Kittles? And Honoria?” she added as Diego escorted the Englishwoman across the deck, toward the gangplank.

Iñigo leaned up against the railing, crossing his arms. “Kittles will be given to the island authorities. Those who choose to remain with me will become members of my crew. Those who choose to leave are free to leave.”

She looked up at him. Rather than cheer her, his words left her feeling even emptier. “Is that so?”

“I do believe I have misled you, my dear Miss Fiona.” His smile grew smug as he swept one arm before him. “I am not what you see. You call me pirate and I’ve yet to correct you. But now I feel I must because I certainly cannot have the natives of this island think ill of me.”

She frowned. “Must you always speak in riddles?”

“Patience, my lady, patience. I will first apologize for destroying your delusion of me, but I am not a pirate.”

“You aren’t?” Finn couldn’t keep the disbelief from her voice as she stared hard at him. Did he truly think he fooled her? How could he claim the opposite when he could not hide the truth. “You will forgive me if I snicker, then, won’t you?”

“Certainly. But while you do, allow me to explain. As I said, I allowed you to think of me as a pirate. But that is not what I am. I sail under the protection and blessing of the French king. That would make me not a pirate, but a privateer. Perfectly legal, albeit a bit questionable.”

Finn stared dumbly at him, almost feeling her jaw hang slack. “A privateer?”

His smug smile grew wider and more smug. “A privateer, my lady. Oh, there was a bounty on Beauregard's head, but it was a paltry sum. One hardly worth my time and effort. No, my attack on the
Smiling Jack
was strictly personal and entirely sanctioned by His Majesty, King Louis. I had no clue of the real treasure she carried.”

Leaning back against the rail to hide her growing surprise, she gingerly flexed her sore arm. “How can that be? Besides, you burned Beauregard's ship. Even I know you cannot collect a bounty on a nonexistent ship.”

“This is true, but compared to the damage done to my own crew, it was far greater to raid the
Smiling Jack’s
hold and relieve her of her gold and jewels.”

Finn froze, stunned by this revelation. “Gold? Jewels? You mean to say the fool actually did carry something of value?” She didn’t know if she believed him. Judging by the ragtag group of men and the rundown ship they sailed, she never would have guessed the
Smiling Jack
carried anything of value.

But Iñigo nodded. “Oh, yes, my dear Finn. She carried a fortune in gold doubloons and pieces of eight, not to mention a cache of rare jewels. It was Beauregard's habit to maroon his crews after raids, to bring on fresh men with each new voyage. Had you and the others known, you might have defended your ship a bit better. Of course, you would have suffered the same fate, most likely. Probably before reaching Port Royal. You would never have taken command, Finn. You would have died a slow, miserable death with men you most likely despised.”

Knowing Beauregard's selfish streak, Finn accepted that Iñigo most likely spoke true. Yet, it didn’t anger her. Instead, she groaned, rolling her eyes and slapping her forehead with one hand. “And the greedy fool never mentioned one whit about what those moldy crates held. A greater fool never lived.”

“Oh, I doubt it would have mattered, Finn. He was as greedy as he was foolish. As I said, you never would have seen your share.”

Perhaps, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t curse Beauregard still. If they had but known, those who fought halfheartedly would have stepped up their efforts. If they had, upon reaching Port Royal,
she
would have claimed captaincy of the ship. Or would she? It was more likely than not Iñigo was right and Beauregard would have left her and the others to die on some godforsaken rock in the middle of the Caribbean.

Drawing in a slow breath, she let her eyes close as she folded her arms over her chest. “I lost my freedom due to his selfishness.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She opened her eyes, unable to hold back her outrage as she burst out, “I lost my
freedom
due to his
selfishness
! He cared naught about us. Cared naught about saving his ship. He would choose it to sink to the bottom of the sea than take the chance one of us lowly servants would steal it. And this
after
he swore he wished to retire, that he would make the ship mine.” Her voice grew colder and angrier with each word and still it didn’t come anywhere near to her true feeling. Her fury was unlike any that had ever raged through her, and having no outlet for it made her angrier still. “And instead, I am
here.
”

“You have been given the choice, Finn. You may leave, if you desire. But, I hope you will chose otherwise. That you will join me, and of your own free will.”

Finn couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Did he honestly think she would
join
him? That she would willingly continue to
serve
him? That she would warm his bed one night and while Honoria did the next? He had to be mad. She held his stare easily, wondering why butterflies pounded her ribs. “And why would I do this? What purpose would it serve?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “It would serve no purpose, I’m afraid. I thought, perhaps, you might stay because you wish to.”

His words were a murmured surprise and the last thing she ever expected him to say. Still, she couldn’t help but be suspicious. “And that is all?”

“I play no games, Finn. Nor do I have a wicked surprise in store for you. It’s quite simple.” He shrugged. “I’ve had but a taste of you and I find I want more.”

“Oh, do you now?” Turning to face him, she stared hard, wondering if she should be flattered, or insulted.

Another sigh. “I see I have yet again offended. Very well, I offer you a compromise.”

“What sort of
compromise
?”

“You will remain with me as long as I am here. In my home. You will be given as much freedom as possible, but you must give your word you’ll not leave. In return, I will treat you as my guest. I will expect nothing in return.”

“For how long must I agree to this?”

“As long as I remain on St. Philippe. I plan to supply the ship, give my men some leisure time before I leave for the Orient. If you wish, you are welcome to join us.”

She sniffed. “As a cabin boy, you mean? And what of Honoria?”

His smile was equal parts knowing and smug. “What of Honoria?”

“Am I to serve
her
as well? And you did not answer my first question.”

“Finn, you need not concern yourself with Honoria. Be assured, I’d
not
ask her to sail with us.”

His words offered no comfort. “And would I be your
cabin
boy
?”

“Finn, you know I’d have no choice. You would have no choice.”

That might be, but it didn’t mean she had to like it. “I
would
be your cabin boy.”

“Only during daylight hours.”

His sensual smile sent a flaming arrow slicing through her, but she swallowed against it. After a long silence, she cleared her throat. “Very well.”

“Very well, what?”

Forcing a smile to her lips, she replied, “I will sign on. I should like to see the Orient.”

He couldn’t hold back his look of surprise, even as he nodded sharply. “Of course, Finn. Now, shall we?”

Finn glanced over her shoulder at the jeweled land before her. What had she done? How could she agree to the madness of binding herself and hoping she’d not be discovered all the way to the other side of the world?
I must be mad
. She took a deep breath and said, “I suppose.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

The villa Iñigo called home was nestled amongst the lush foliage in the hills beyond the harbor. Located on a hilltop alive with a riot of blooming flowers and towering coconut palm trees, the house was spacious and airy. Large floor-to-ceiling windows broke up the walls, all open to their widest to allow the cool ocean winds to circulate through the rooms.

Finn sighed as she stood in what was to be her room. It was small and cozy, with a narrow bed and light, woven furniture. Long, gauzy draperies wafted in the warm breeze, and the air was heavy with the perfume of the orchids growing in abundance in the jungle behind the house. The flowers’ rich, spicy-sweet scent filled the air and she breathed deep as she stepped out onto the small terrace overlooking the vibrantly alive foliage.

She did not know where Iñigo had disappeared to, nor did she know where Diego had taken Honoria. Ennis remained onboard the ship, busy with the crew as they prepared to unload the hold. His decision couldn’t have been clearer, which left her with a sadness mingled with a hint of betrayal. They remained with her even after Iñigo handed her off to a lovely young girl with dusky skin and flowing black hair. He rattled off instructions in Spanish, and the girl took her by the arm, leading her to the small room on the second floor. There, the girl laid out fresh clothing and a bath was drawn.

When she finished, the girl left, and Finn noted the door remained unlocked. If she desired, she could simply open the door and be on her way. Giving her word to the opposite was what kept her standing there, staring. Or so she told herself. There could be no other reason. Certainly none having anything to do with the handsome Spaniard who seemed to constantly invade her mind these days.

A bath was far too inviting and she wasted no time in shedding the male attire she loathed, and stepped into the steaming, relaxing water. The tub was hammered gold, with several exotic blossoms floating on the water’s surface. As she sunk into the silken warmth, a heavy sigh rose to her lips at the simple luxury. Ducking beneath the surface, she let the rush of water fill her ears and block out everything around her. She wanted nothing more than to lose herself for a while, and she soaked until it was too cool to be comfortable.

The clothing laid out for her made her want to cry. The gown was unlike any she’d ever seen. It was a beautiful riot of vibrant color—red, orange, coral and turquoise blending in harmony with the lush colors surrounding her. She reached out to catch the skirt between her fingers. The lightweight linen was perfectly suited for the warm clime, and aside from the brilliance of the colors, the gown was simply designed and she could barely wait to slip into it.

It was almost scandalous, how the dress had no sleeves, but she reveled in the velvety caress of the cool island breeze as it kissed her bared shoulders and arms. The skirts, over a freshly laundered stiff, white petticoat, were a splash of jewel colors, rustling about her ankles as she spun around with a quiet laugh. She had never worn anything as lovely, as feminine, and it was a wonderful change from trousers and the rough togs Eden’s Pass slaves wore. Even Mistress Eden didn’t wear anything as beautiful and revealing. She suffered through the heat in heavy English petticoats and crisp, heavy linen gowns covering more than they revealed. Now, Finn actually laughed aloud at such foolishness.

“To the devil with fashion,” she said, smoothing a hand over the fluid skirt. “I find it is by far better to be comfortable.”

With a rustle of boned linen, she crossed the room to sit at the vanity, where a silver brush and comb had been laid out for her use. She cooed appreciatively, running her fingertips over the ornate design on the back of the brush, murmuring, “How lovely. I wonder which ship these were purloined from.”

A smile tugged at her lips. She couldn’t condemn him for something she would have done herself, had the
Smiling Jack
ever attacked anyone during her time onboard. Instead, she ignored it as she lifted the heavy brush to her hair and went to work with slow strokes.

Her hair fell almost to her shoulders. It would be wonderful when it grew back entirely—a fall of heavy ebony reaching her hips again—she didn’t want to think about having to shear it off again. How would Iñigo react to seeing her as woman entirely? What would he think, seeing her in a gown, with her hair soft and clean about her face? A feeling of delicious wickedness tickled her insides as she set the brush down, picturing how Iñigo's eyes would darken, the way they did when he swept her into his arms. She also knew, with a hint of smugness, Honoria's fair beauty paled terrifically beside Finn's. Even the bandage on her arm took nothing away.

Humming softly, she traced one finger along the slightly ruffled neckline. It was almost scandalous, as it was lower than any she’d ever worn. Apparently, island women were not bound by the same fashion dictates as those on Barbados were.

A delicate vase on the bedside table had been crammed full of the beautiful pink-hued orchids. Finn eyed it for a moment, then reached out to snap off one bloom, tucking it into her hair over her left ear, as she’d seen some of the girls below do. For the first time in her life, she was every bit the
dama hermosa
Iñigo proclaimed her to be. It was something she wished to savor for as long as possible, this feeling, for it wouldn’t last forever.

Finn descended the stairs toward the deep voices coming from the dining room. As she neared those voices, she took a deep breath and stepped into the room.

Iñigo and Diego sat at the long, elegant table, which had been set for three. Both men looked up at the same time as she entered and she couldn’t help but feel a hint of triumph as each one went slack-jawed. She didn’t know where Diego had left Honoria, and she didn’t care. It no longer mattered.

She smiled at them, pleasant warmth creeping into her cheeks. “Good evening,” she murmured, fighting the urge to fidget beneath both heavy, dark-eyed stares. No man had ever looked at her the way these two did. It was a mite discomforting at first, before a heady rush of power filled her.

Iñigo caught himself, rising from his chair to skirt the table and draw one back for her. “Good evening, my lady.”

Diego also rose. “Good evening, Finn.”

She gracefully sunk into her chair, smiling up at Iñigo as she said, “I thank you.”

Iñigo returned to his chair and reached for the bottle of wine set between him and Diego. “A bit of refreshment, my lady?”

She held out her delicate crystal goblet. “I thank you again.”

As Iñigo poured the wine, Diego cleared his throat, saying, “I must admit, my lady, I am most surprised to see you instead of a ragtag cabin boy this evening.”

“I can imagine you are,” she replied, lifting the goblet to her lips to take a sip.

Iñigo set the bottle down. “I do hope you are hungry this evening, my lady. A veritable feast awaits us.”

Hunger was not her primary concern at the moment. Her stomach was a tangle of knots brought on by knowing she would take her leave of Iñigo once both men retired for the night. The leaping of her belly, followed by the leaden thud of her heart when she first saw Iñigo had decided this for her. The bitter sense of hopelessness was more than she could bear and it would only grow worse, the longer she remained in his company.

It did not sit well with her. She had given her word and the dishonor of breaking her promise troubled her to no end. Freedom, however, was far too strong to ignore despite having given her word.

Still, leaving brought a darkness to her heart as she gazed across the table at Iñigo now. He was still dressed in his finery and she’d never seen a man look as handsome, as overwhelmingly sensual, as the one seated at the opposite end of the table from her. Never seeing him again lay heavily on her mind and after an afternoon spent arguing with herself over the matter, she’d come to the most obvious conclusion.

She was coming to love him.

A foolish notion at best and a dangerous one at worst. He couldn’t change what he was, what he would always be. She’d be forced to share him with Honoria, and sharing him was something she was quite unwilling to do. The only solution was to put as much distance between herself and the handsome Spaniard as soon as possible. She had to find her way out from under Iñigo’s spell, to escape from him as soon as possible, before it was too late and she truly lost her heart.