Eden's Pass

by Kimberly Nee

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Night had fallen by the time Iñigo returned to the cabin. Finn was awake, still in bed, Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream in her hand. It was still a seemingly endless struggle and she was relieved to have her reading interrupted.

  He smiled, closing the door. “I see your frown, Finn. Is it coming at all easier now?”

  He crossed over to sit beside her and she closed the book, still frowning. “Not especially. It’s still frustrating.”

  “I admire your persistence, Finn. Truly one of your finer qualities.”

  Sinking back into the pillows, she watched as he rose and moved to the shelf above his desk, where he reached up to slip a slender volume from it. “What have you there?”

  He smiled over one shoulder. “One you might have an easier time with.”

  “More Shakespeare?”

  “Aye, but a story I think you’ll find much easier to follow.”

  He returned to the bed and pressed the volume into her hand. She swallowed an irritated sigh, slowly reading aloud, “Romeo and Juliet?”

  His grin grew downright devilish. “It’s the tragic tale of star-crossed lovers.”

  She glowered at him. “And what is that to me?”

  “I thought it might appeal to the dreamer in you, Finn.”

  “I should brain you with this.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “I’d rather you didn’t. I must admit, I also admire that dreamer. It’s refreshing, as it is something I seldom see.”

  “You think me silly because I believe in the notion of love?”

  “Of course not.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “After all, it’s partially what rendered you incapable of inflicting harm upon me.”

  “Do not look so smug, our journey is not over yet.”

  He leaned forward, and nuzzled her. “Ah, but we both know I speak the truth.”

  “I despise when you mock me.”

  “I mock nothing. I merely disagree.”

  “You think love does not exist?”

  “Oh, no. Not entirely, anyway.”

  Her spirits rose with that. “Really?”

  “Certainly. If the circumstances are there, why not? I have simply never been fool enough to place myself in those circumstances.”

  Her spirits sank once more. “Why?”

  He paused, combing a hand through his hair before shaking his head. “I know not why. Mayhap because I am seldom in one place long enough, or with one woman long enough. Mayhap because mine is a wandering spirit at heart. I cherish my freedom, my ability to take to the seas if the mood strikes. One cannot do that when one is bound to another.”

  “That depends on the other.”

  He met her gaze. “Aye, I suppose it would.” He stretched out beside her, eased the book from her hand, and twisted to set it atop the table. Turning back to her, he continued. “And you see yourself as capable of the trust needed under such circumstances?”

  She scowled. “I know not what you mean.”

  He didn’t reply at once, but eased an arm about her and leaned into her, pressing her down onto her back. His lips brushing hers, he murmured, “Of course you know. Would you be content to remain in one place alone, left with wondering what I might be doing? Or whom I might be with?”

  “You? Did I say anything about you, Captain?” Finn tried to force scorn into her voice, but couldn’t. Deep in the pit of her belly, there came a slight ripple, a tickling flutter, at his words.

  His lips brushed hers again. “That is not an answer, love.”

  “Of course it is. I see no future with you, Spaniard. To think otherwise would be great folly, don’t you think?”

  He shifted again to cover her body with his. Finn groaned beneath him, bringing a smile to his lips. Kissing her a third time, he murmured, “Who else would it be?”

  “I’ll have you know, I could choose any man I wish, were I mad enough to even consider marriage. Like you, I prefer my life this way. I see no reason to give up the freedom I’ve fought hard to obtain.”

  Iñigo pulled away, eyes narrowing. “You mean to say I cannot trust you? That you will run when we return?”

  His voice, much like his gaze, was hard, and she flinched. His words stung, though she could hardly fault him for his skepticism. She shifted uncomfortably. “No. I did not say that. And I have already admitted my actions were quite a mistake and I do regret them.”

  “Aye. You did. But, that doesn’t mean I am going to be fool enough to accept only your word.”

  No, she didn’t expect him to accept only her word. Nor could she fault him. Her word was worthless. “I do not expect that, Captain. I would be quite surprised, should you say otherwise. But, as I know my word means very little, there is another reason why I’ll not run and why you might choose to believe me.”

  Sitting back, he was outwardly calm. “Is that so?”

  The nervous knots in her belly had nothing to do with his effect on her. Rather, it was the enormity of what her next words carried. “It is. I am going to have a baby.”

  Her ability to remain calm when her belly churned like a stormy sea amazed her, as it was the last thing she’d ever imagined saying. Her shock, her surprise, had worn off in the murky darkness of the hole at Eden's Pass, when she realized why she was utterly drained and weak.

  A child.

  Iñigo's child.

  She watched him, waiting for him to scoff, to insist she was mad. But he neither scoffed nor denied. He stared. “A baby.”

  His voice was flat and hollow and she nodded. “Yes. I don’t blame you for being stunned. I admit, I was quite stunned myself.”

  “Are you certain?” His voice dropped to a murmur, his eyes suddenly softening to a liquid gold.

  She nodded. Her heart lifted for the first time, and joy was the reason why it rose as easily as it did. Over her surprise, there was more than a bit of joy, of awe, at the idea of bearing a child.

  “I see.” He continued to stare at her, as if waiting for her to begin making demands.

  She was outwardly calm. On the inside, however, she was grabbing him by the front of his midnight blue silk shirt and demanding he do the honorable thing. It would be wasted effort, for he would never cave in to any demand, but especially one concerning marriage. But there was only one way such a demand would be met. Forcing her warring emotions into submission, she managed to retain her calmness. “Is that all you have to say, Spaniard?”

  She held his stare, her hands splayed out against the counterpane. There was no nervous plucking at the fabric, no uneasy twisting or balling. She gave no hint that there was anything other than a serene sense of acceptance. And she was quite proud of herself for fooling him.

  His expression remained bland, his eyes still soft, but not giving anything away. “And how think you we rectify this matter?”

  “Rectify?” She sniffed at the very idea. What he suggested was ludicrous. Shaking her head, she said, “There is no way to rectify this, Captain. What is done is done, is it not? One cannot undo a child.”

  His cheeks flushed, the only indication of how silly his words were. Clearing his throat, he tried again, “What I meant was, how think you we proceed from here?”

  She bit her lip again, knowing all too well he’d not beg for her hand. There was a hard edge to his voice, an even harder one in his eyes. His back was rigid, tension cording the finely honed muscle and sinew into forged steel. Shaking her head, she said, “I know not, Captain. It’s a situation foreign to me. I suppose it’s out of my hands now, and in nature’s.”

  Iñigo looked thoroughly confused now. Had he expected her to launch into a tirade of honor and propriety, to demand he marry her and right his wrong? She had a feeling he had not expected her to be quite as calm. His eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. “What mean you by this?”

  “By what?”

  “By this…” He waved a hand between them. “Think you that by not making demands, I will be more than willing to w
ed you?”

  She simply stared, surprised by his fiery words, words almost bubbling with anger. “Why would I do that? You do not wish to marry, nor do I. Why would I insist on something I am set against?”

  Iñigo scowled, his flush darkening. “You are, my lady, truly the most frustrating female on the face of this earth. Know you this?”

  Why was he furious? Shouldn’t he be overjoyed to know she was not about to make demands? She would honor his wishes, knowing full well the consequences, and yet he was angry. She supposed the consequences were not what they might be, were she a true lady. Instead, she was a slave, a half-breed as Eden loved to call her. Why should it matter if she birthed a bastard? Why should it trouble anyone, least of all her?

  “I am no such thing,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I know how you feel about such matters and I’d be a fool to attempt to change that, would I not? You do not wish to marry me, as I said. And I certainly have no desire to marry you, Spaniard, so I should think that would disallow the very notion, wouldn’t you?” She cleared her throat. “I expect I will remain on St. Philippe until my time and when it’s over and done, I live the life I’d planned, ere crossing paths with you.”

  “And the child?”

  The anger in his voice surprised her. “Will go with me, of course. Think you I’d abandon a child? If you do, mayhap you are mad, for I would never do such a thing.”

  He snorted. “You’d raise my son on your own? With nothing?”

  She gave him a level look. “I would raise my daughter on my own. I am quite capable of many things, you know. I will manage fine alone.”

  “Like hell you will!” Iñigo's voice bounced off the walls, his eyes flashing with amber fire as he rose from the bed. “I’ll not allow it, Finn. Understand you this?”

  “Understand you this, Spaniard. It’s not of your choosing. You opt not to claim me or this child and I accept that. But think you I will allow you to dictate as if the opposite was true? You are mad. You cannot have it both ways, Captain. It’s one or the other.” She rose from the bed, facing him head-on, fists on her hips. “One or the other.”

  Her ability to corner him, to issue so cool an ultimatum, had to stoke his temper. She had the upper hand. It must have rubbed him raw, but there was precious little he could do about it now. The only thing he could do was glare at her. He shook his head. “Wish you to play this game, lady? Very well. I will play. But trust me, Finn, you will sorely regret forcing my hand.”

  “Force your hand?” She cocked her head to the side, confused as she stared up at him with feigned innocence. “How have I done such a thing?”

  Iñigo stormed to the door. “You will have your wedding, lady. And there will be no arguing it.”

  The door slammed behind him with a resounding bang, leaving her to stare at the satiny wood. A slow smile crept over her face. It wasn’t much, but mayhap it was a beginning.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The sea breeze blowing in off of the Caribbean was warm, but Finn shivered as she turned her face directly into it. It had become something of a habit, her late-day stroll along the water’s edge. It was a chance to be alone, and her favorite part of the day.

  Iñigo was there, somewhere, watching her. He rarely allowed her from his sight since their return. She supposed she couldn’t truly fault him, but it did nothing to lessen the feeling of being his prisoner. Which was what she was. Imprisoned. Since their return from Barbados, her every move was being carefully watched. It wasn’t always Iñigo she suspected, as Ennis remained with them, and she was fairly certain his gaze was trained carefully upon her at times as well.

  It wasn’t all bad, of course. Iñigo didn’t particularly treat her as a prisoner. He merely paid special mind to her whereabouts. She’d given her word, but had to admit she could not fault him when he refused to rely solely upon it. It would take time, she supposed, before he would trust the validity of her word again.

  The ring on her left hand was heavy, despite being only a narrow band of gold, but she acclimated well to the weight. Iñigo had done as he threatened, summoning one of the missionary priests from the village within days of their return. Theirs had been a solemn wedding, but their wedding night more than made up for it. If Iñigo still harbored anger, it was well hidden as he swept his bride into his arms and proceeded to seclude them behind locked doors for nearly two days. For those two days, she was every bit the adored wife as she and Iñigo made love with abandon, falling asleep spent and sated, wrapped in one another. It was every bit as wonderful as her daydreams as he was ever the man of her dreams.

  She longed to speak her feelings and yet, remained mute on the subject. There was still anger in his eyes, though it no longer burned quite as brightly. Still, she did not wish to upset the delicate balance of their day-to-day life. Not yet. Her energies were far too focused in other directions as days melted into weeks and weeks into months.

  She hadn’t seen Honoria since they first arrived, but learned from Flora that the English girl found work as a maid for one of the families in the village. But then again, she cared naught what became of Honoria, as long as she didn’t return.

  A solid thump brought a smile to her face and her hand to her belly, now swollen and round. Her time was now only weeks away, and she was accustomed to the human life squirming about inside her. She sighed as the movements grew stronger and swifter, sinking down onto the sand to catch her breath after a particularly forceful kick.

  “Gently, little one,” she murmured, rubbing the spot where a foot must have been wedged in between her ribs. “There is no need to make holes in your mum.”

  The kicking died down for a moment, though she continued rubbing. Iñigo was most fascinated by the burgeoning life within her, his hand often coming to rest on her belly, a bemused smile lifting his lips with each kick, each nudge. One night, he laughed out loud when her entire belly actually changed shape right before their eyes.

  She gazed out over the crystal, aqua waters of the ocean, still rubbing thoughtfully. “Oh, it’s terribly confusing, all that has happened over these many months. Your papa seems every bit the content, loving husband and yet, I know this was not what he wanted. He’s made that perfectly clear. And yet…”

  Yet, he’d done the very thing he’d vowed he’d never do. He’d married her, and married her willingly. He was hers now for all eternity, and yet the happiness she ought to have been feeling was a gray happiness, mingled with a confusion coming from not knowing what to make of the situation in its entirety. He claimed no love, had never spoken of feeling anything for her other than the sense of honor that came with claiming paternity of his unborn child. It was a most confusing situation, to say the least, and it was no wonder she treasured her walks along the shore. Mayhap one day, the solution would come to her.

  A shadow fell over her and she looked up to see Iñigo standing beside her. “Is something the matter?” she asked, pausing in her belly-rubbing.

  He sat beside her. “I came to ask you the same. You stopped so suddenly.”

  She fought down the sense of annoyance over the fact he instructed his men to keep a close eye upon her. “You need not spy on me, you realize. I’ve given my word I’ll not flee again.” As the hint of anger flashed in his eyes, she held up a hand. “I understand my word means very little to you now, Captain. But look at me.” She gestured to her protruding belly. “I am all round and clumsy. Think you I’d be daft enough to attempt to run anywhere?”

  He didn’t answer, but instead reached down to cover her hand with his. “The child kicks?”

  “Every minute he can,” she replied, gazing up at him, wondering what he was thinking, wondering why she could face a ship overrun with bloodthirsty Englishmen and not even flinch, but could not tell one man how she felt about him.

  Iñigo's eyes held hers, a tender smile playing at his lips. “You almost blend in with the island natives. Especially in such feminine togs. A very lovely native girl you’ve become, Finn.”
>
  She smiled, smoothing a hand over the skirt of her sunset coral cotton gown, pleased with his observation. Her hair had grown several inches since their return, falling down below her shoulders, and she preferred tying it back with a simple leather thong. She reached up to smooth a hand over it, unable to keep from smiling as she murmured, “I must admit, I rather feel very much like a native girl.”

  His forefinger traced lightly over her bottom lip. “Mi muchacha hermosa,” he murmured, his gaze holding hers.

  “And what does that mean?”

  His smile grew. “It means ‘my beautiful girl’.”

  Her face grew hot, but it was a pleasant blush, and she smiled. “I thank you, Captain. I am afraid I do not feel beautiful these days. I feel round and clumsy and huge.”

  “Ah, but it’s because you carry a child, love,” he replied, his hand curved against her cheek, his thumb sweeping lightly over it. “In my eyes, that makes you ever more beautiful.”

  She didn’t resist as he drew her in and his mouth came down onto hers. Wrapping his arms about her, he lowered her flat onto her back. “Ah, Finn.” His lips moved down over her jaw, down along her throat. “Would that I could make love to you right here, in the surf, with the sun and the gulls as our only witnesses.”

  She winced slightly as the shifting of her burden made breathing more difficult. “Mayhap in a few weeks, Captain. As for now, you are squishing me.”

  He lifted himself from her. However, instead of allowing her to sit up, he tugged her over to sprawl across him. “I find this works as well.”

  His lips found hers once more and she lost herself in his kiss. When they parted, she tucked her head beneath his chin. “Captain…”

  His fingers skimmed absently over her hair. “Aye, Finn?”

  “How long do you plan to remain here? On the island, I mean to say.”

  A long silence greeted her. Glancing up, it was to see his gaze had wandered up toward the crystal blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds, where he stared for several minutes before finally saying, “I’ve no answer for that, my lady. I cannot say when the urge to wander will strike. Nor can I promise it will. I’ve spent a good many years on the oceans. Mayhap the time has come for me to do the same on dry land.”