by Kimberly Nee
Hot tears stung her eyes and she impatiently brushed them away. Crying would solve nothing. It wouldn’t take away all that had happened since her fateful decision to leave St. Philippe. It wouldn’t take away the dull ache in her heart at the knowledge she would never again lay eyes upon Iñigo Sebastiano.
“And running away solved nothing either,” she sniffed, drawing her filthy sleeve across her eyes once more. “You still love him, fool. The only thing you’ve accomplished is making certain to spend the rest of your days in hell, filled with longing and regret. At least on St. Philippe, you had only the longing.”
She slowly rolled onto her belly, clenching her jaw as a fresh sweat broke out over her entire body. It was no use. No matter how she lay, the nausea did not abate. It worsened with movement, settled a bit with idleness, but never truly went away.
Two days. Five more remained before her lashing. A small comfort, to say the least, when her stomach made it almost impossible to even try to think of a way to escape. Besides, it was futile. She had nothing in her cell to use to force the lock. Tobias had made certain to confiscate anything on her person she might use. The others would not help her and she could hardly fault them. Should they be caught, it would mean death for the unlucky soul as well.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head with as much vehemence as her gut would allow. “I’ll not give up so easily. There is a way out. I need only think on it a mite harder and it will come to me. It has to. There is no way my life will come to an end at that fat bastard’s hand. I’ll not allow it. I will not allow it.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Through the darkness, the soft strains of a hymnal floated on the evening breeze from a cluster of roughly-hewn shacks down in a slight valley below. The voices were in harmony, lilting and hypnotic, but Iñigo paid little heed as he turned to Ennis to whisper, “Now, where will we find one to take us to Finn?”
Ennis leaned as close as he could without losing his balance. “Her closest friend was another slave girl—Adeline. We need to find her. She will help.”
“And how are we to find her?” Diego whispered, exchanging glances with Iñigo.
“Leave that to me,” Ennis declared, brushing by both Diego and Iñigo to part the heavy fern fronds leaves blocking their path.
Diego reached out to grab a handful of Iñigo's shirtsleeve. “Are you certain we ought trust him?”
Iñigo roughly shook him off. “We’ve no choice,” he replied gruffly, plunging into the palmettos behind Ennis. He no longer cared about trusting the redhead in front of him. Finding Finn was all he cared about.
The storm had blown them slightly off-course, adding two days to their journey. Now, as they were on Barbadian soil, impatience gnawed endlessly at Iñigo's insides. They could not get to Eden’s Pass quickly enough, and Ennis was their only hope for finding Finn once they stepped onto the plantation.
The three men crept noiselessly through the jungle foliage toward the sounds of singing. Small fires burned, giving off a bright orange glow to the night’s blackness and from the sounds below, several slaves were still up, sitting around them.
At the edge of the tree stand, Ennis stopped, holding out his arm to halt the Spaniards behind him. Tapping Iñigo on the shoulder with one hand, he gestured with the other. “Ebere is one of the women with whom Adeline shares a cabin. We needs speak with her to find Adeline.”
“Out of the question,” Iñigo shot back in a heated whisper. “We will alert no one else to our presence.”
“We’ve no choice,” Ennis argued, shaking his head. “I’ve no way of knowin’ if the arrangements are as they were. Adeline might have been sold. She might be dead. Much can happen here in a short time, you understand.”
Iñigo curled his fingers about the hilt of his sword, almost itching to draw it and press its tip into Ennis’s back to prove his point. “I said, nay. We’ll not alert anyone else to our presence.”
Ennis sighed heavily. “Very well, but it’s foolishness. Have you another suggestion?”
“Which shack is hers?”
“Whose?”
Iñigo rolled his eyes, his fingers tightening about his sword. “Adeline.”
“It was the third one on the left. It’s eight women to a hut.”
Iñigo squinted into the darkness. “The one with the old woman in the door?”
“That’s Ebere.”
“What is she doing?”
“Warding off evil spirits. It’s her nightly ritual to keep the nighttime spirits from possessing her or the other occupants of the shanty.”
Iñigo rolled his eyes again. “She practices black magic?”
“Nay. White. But she knows plenty of black as well. She is a good woman, a healer, and very valuable to both the slaves and the owners here.” Ennis glanced up at Iñigo. “It’s why she is given permission to walk about freely. Master Tobias treasures her above all other souls here. Even his wife is not as cherished.”
Diego snorted. “Wonderful. And yet you think she will help?”
“She is no fool. She is as much a slave as the others. She does not buy into Master Tobias’s farce of freedom. Were she to set foot off Eden’s Pass, she would be lashed as well.” Ennis shrugged. “And Finn—Finn—was well-liked here. She made the others laugh, she entertained children with stories handed down from her own mother.”
Iñigo relaxed his hand. It almost made him smile, hearing this about his stoic cabin boy. “Stories?”
“Aye. She is a most gifted storyteller.”
“Still, it seems a terrible risk,” Diego broke in, slowly unsheathing his own saber. “I agree with Captain Sebastiano. We find only this Adeline.”
Ennis sighed. “Very well. We will skirt the trees here and make our way to Ebere’s cabin. I only hope she does not spot us.”
He walked on, taking great pains to watch where he stepped, unwilling to alert anyone to their presence. For Iñigo, this only added to his impatience. He was ready to battle anyone, to do whatever necessary, to find Finn.
Of course, that’s only so I am the one able to wring her delicate little neck. He grimaced, releasing his saber entirely as he crept along behind Ennis. No man will take that from me.
The words echoed in his head, almost as if he tried to convince himself they were the truth. Almost as if he tried to convince himself there could be no other reason, such as his increasing concern for her. No, it was far better to remind himself of the satisfaction he would receive from throttling her for the hell she’d put him through over the past two weeks.
The loud crack behind him jolted Iñigo into the present. He and Ennis whipped about at the same time to see Diego frozen in place, a broken tree limb beneath his booted foot.
“Have I given us away?” Diego whispered after a long, painful silence.
Ennis pushed aside a few more branches and shook his head. “It wasn’t as loud as it sounded.”
“A bit more care, you fool,” Iñigo muttered, shaking his head. “Before you get us killed.”
“Of course, Captain.”
“Hush now,” Ennis warned them, gesturing through the branches. “We are at the back of Ebere’s shanty. It won’t be long now and it will not take much to give us away.”
Iñigo glared at Diego before turning back to Ennis. “What now?”
“Let me take a look in one of the back windows. Wait here.”
It wasn’t what Iñigo wished to do. He’d done more than enough waiting. He was most tired of waiting now. Much worse would befall them, were they discovered. It would be most bitter, to have that happen when they were nearing the end of their journey.
He sighed, leaning back against the rough trunk of a coconut palm. “I despise waiting,” he muttered, reaching for his saber once more.
Diego sighed, leaning up against the trunk beside him. “As do I,” he said, reaching down to pat the dagger strapped to his thigh. “But we are prepared, should we find ourselves with unexpected company.”
“
I am going to throttle her blue when we find her.”
“You’ll do no such thing and we both know it.”
Iñigo turned to glance at Diego, despite the darkness. “Do we?”
“Aye. There is no need to keep pretending the girl means nothing to you. I know you far too well, my friend, to believe such nonsense. You would not go to these lengths for any other woman. Yet you have for Finn. There is more to it than a need for revenge, and you are lying to both of us to claim otherwise.”
“You are mad,” Iñigo replied bluntly, turning away to peer through the darkness where Ennis had disappeared.
“You can swear to that until you are blue, Iñigo, but I’ll not believe it. And I must admit, I fail to understand your stubbornness where the girl is concerned. Why not admit it to yourself and end your agony?”
“And what is it I need admit?” Iñigo asked mildly, both hands resting on the hilt of his saber as he turned back to Diego.
Without a whit of hesitation, Diego shrugged. “That you love her.”
Iñigo snorted. “Love? I think you’ve been on dry land far too long, my friend,” he scoffed, tapping the scabbard against his leg. “Have you ever known me to give in to so foolish a notion?”
“Ah, that’s exactly why I believe I speak the truth. That’s why you’ll not admit it to yourself either. But there is no other explanation for us traveling all this way simply to retrieve a wayward bedmate. There is more to it and you needs know that by now.”
Iñigo shook his head. “I shall not even dignify that with an answer. I no more love her than I’ve loved any other woman I’ve brought into my bed. She is no different from them.”
“Of course she is.”
“I’ll warn you, Diego, do not press me. My temper’s stretched far too thin to begin with and I should hate to see us come to blows over so silly a topic.”
Diego shrugged. “I’ll not say another word save for this, I would give all that I have to see the look on your face when you realize I speak true.”
Before Iñigo could reply, Ennis was back, slightly out of breath as he whispered, “She is still there. Or rather, her belongings are still there.”
“But she is not?” Iñigo asked sharply.
Ennis shook his head. “She is not.”
Iñigo swore beneath his breath. “Are we to simply sit here and wait, and hope we’re not discovered?”
“Nay. We’ll not be discovered. It shouldn’t be long before she appears.”
Diego leaned closer. “And how is it you are so certain of this?”
Ennis smiled at them in the faint moonlight beaming through the fronds above. “Because I know where she most likely is and she’ll be making her way back before long.”
Iñigo sighed. “Very well. But know you this, there will be hell to pay if we are discovered before she is.”
Silence descended as all three watched and waited. Finally, the sounds of creeping footfalls reached their ears. Ennis nudged Iñigo sharply in the ribs and gestured toward Adeline’s shanty.
Without a word, Iñigo and Diego crept along behind him as they moved closer. Adeline was, indeed, making her way out of another section of the jungle. She was willowy and thin, her skin almost copper-colored against the firelight. Her dark hair was loose, falling rather wildly over her shoulders. Her pale brown linen gown was crumpled and wrinkled, and a look of dreaminess softened her features.
Iñigo shoved by Ennis, to snake one arm about Adeline’s waist and clap his free hand over her mouth at the same time, muffling her shriek of surprise into a plaintive squeak.
“You’ll not be harmed, woman,” he whispered, dragging her back toward the edge of the trees. As she struggled against him, he tightened his hold on her, pressing hard on her jaw as she continued to try to scream. “Hush!” he hissed as she let out a squeal of pain. “You’ve my word, I’ll not harm you. I need your assistance, my lady.”
He paid no heed to the crackle and snap of the tree branches and foliage as he trounced over them, dragging the still-struggling woman into the darkness of the trees. “You know Finn?”
She writhed against him. “Mglphsd!”
Iñigo swore beneath his breath again. “Fiona. You know her as Fiona. You know her whereabouts, do you not?”
Adeline went still. “Ffioa?”
“Aye. Fiona.”
She nodded, her squeals lost their panicked edge and her legs no longer flailed. Iñigo breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the others and she stopped struggling altogether.
“If I release you, you’ll not scream?”
She bobbed her head.
“What the devil are you doing?”
Iñigo turned, Adeline still braced up against his chest, to see Ennis scowling at him. “I grew tired of waiting. Quite a most effective decision, as you can see.”
Adeline went limp against him. “Ennis?”
Ennis nodded tiredly. “You are safe, Adeline. It’s only me.” To Iñigo, he said, “You may release her now, Captain.”
Iñigo set her down, and Adeline whirled around to glare at him. “What the devil was that about?” she snapped, kicking him firmly in the shin.
Iñigo fought the urge to flinch as pain exploded through his lower leg. Though she wore soft leather shoes and his boots were a much heavier leather, there was more than enough fury behind the blow to send a flare shooting up into his thigh. “I apologize, my lady, but I could not take the chance you’d scream.”
“Ennis, what the devil are you doing here? I thought you were long gone from here?”
Ennis nodded. “I was. As was Fiona, until she pulled her foolish little stunt.”
Adeline threw herself at Ennis, embracing him warmly. “Oh, but it’s good to see you again! Wonderful, indeed.”
Iñigo had not the patience for their reunion, stepping up to roughly part them. “We are short on time, my lady.”
She glared up at him. “Shall I kick you again, sir?”
Ennis stepped between them. “Enough. Adeline, please, it’s of utmost importance you take us to Fiona.”
Adeline's brow creased further. “Take you to the hole? Are you mad?”
“The hole?”
Iñigo didn’t miss the note of fear in Ennis’s voice and he recalled Finn's description of the hole. “You will take us to this hole at once.”
She turned back to Ennis. “You mean to free her?”
Iñigo didn’t let Ennis answer. “That’s exactly what we mean to do.”
“Why? So you might enslave her?”
“Hardly,” Iñigo scoffed, a grin pulling at his lips. “I take it she has not spoken of me?”
Adeline's forehead wrinkled again, then her delicately arched dark eyebrows shot up almost into her hairline. “You are the arrogant Spaniard for whom she pines?” Her voice rang with utter disbelief.
He didn’t quite know how to respond. Pines? He couldn’t imagine his proud Finn pining for anyone. Still, Finn’s describing him as arrogant brought a genuine smile to his lips. “She has spoken of me?”
“She has never named you, nay. But she has made mention of a Spaniard she knew.” Adeline gave him a slow up and down perusal. “And you do fit her description. Tall, dark as sin, arrogant as the devil and too handsome for your own good.”
“I am honored you agree,” he replied smoothly, bending slightly at the waist. “And now, if you’ve finished damning me, you will take me to her.”
Adeline bit her lower lip and nodded. “I would. I would allow anyone to aid her. She is in a terrible way.”
Diego stepped up. “A terrible way, you say?”
She nodded, looking from Diego to Iñigo and back. “She has been ill since her arrival. Barely able to keep down even water. I’ve not seen her, but she sounds terribly weak.”
Iñigo unsheathed his sword. “You will take me to her. Now.”
Ennis reached out to press a hand into Iñigo's arm. “There is no need for a weapon, Captain. Adeline will help us.” He glanced at her. �
�Won’t you?”
She nodded. “I said I would, did I not? Master Tobias has a horrible punishment in store for her. In her condition, she’d not survive. Not even with Ebere and her herbs.”
Iñigo tried to ignore the clenching in the pit of his belly as he gripped his saber tighter. “Let us go, shall we?”
“At once. Follow close and make not a sound,” Adeline whispered, reaching out to slip her arm through Iñigo's and tug him alongside her as they were swallowed up by the trees once more.
Chapter Thirty
Finn lifted one hand to reach for the small tin cup of water on the floor beside her pallet, fighting to keep it from trembling. It was no use. Her strength was gone, drained along with everything else from her body. Her arm dropped to the dirt floor and she groaned softly. The queasiness was still present, though it was bearable if she didn’t move.
Despite the thick darkness, she was all too aware of the sounds coming from beyond the door. Animals crackled their way through the underbrush, tree frogs croaked at one another, and those sounds mingled with the flutter of leaves as the sea air blew in across the land, carrying with it the ever-present aroma of boiling sugarcane. It wasn’t harvest time, but the odor never faded away entirely.
A quiet scraping sound floated to her ears, which pricked up at once. This was no familiar noise. Not at all.
Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up onto one arm. “Who goes there?” she whispered, wincing at how faint her voice sounded. Clearing her throat, she tried again, with a mite more force this time. “Who goes there?”
“Fiona?”
“Adeline?” Finn's heart lurched, setting off another terrible wave of nausea searing through her. She gagged, shifting to sit up, then bending to force her head between her knees. It was the only remedy she could think of to counteract the roiling of her belly, the only thing to calm it.
“Aye.” Adeline's misty voice was only the faintest of whispers but having shattered the still around her, it sounded more like a shout to Finn.