Page 31 of The Heart of an Earl

Another. Another.

She shoved through the bodies.

Another.

She pushed the shoulder of a burly man to the left just in time to see the nine tips of the whip flash across Des’s back one last time, shredding more lines into his skin.

Blood dripped downward, soaking through the white linen of Des’s shirt tied about his waist as he stood facing the main mast. Unmoving, taking the lashes with not a sound.

“That be all, mates.” Captain Folback shouted to his crew. “Back to work.”

The men around her shuffled slowly away, dispersing to their interrupted tasks.

Captain Folback stood next to Des, staring at her as the men about them cleared the space.

He turned to Des. “Have the girl tend to them. And keep the harpy out of trouble. I’ll not have it on my ship this close to home waters.”

“Aye, Captain.” Des leaned forward and grabbed his coat and waistcoat from the crate he’d flung them across.

Des turned back to Jules, walking by her without looking at her.

When she didn’t immediately follow him, he lifted his head, though he didn’t glance back to her as he barked, “Come.”

Jules jumped and hurried after him.

The deck was no place for her at the moment.

Maybe not for the rest of the journey.

~~~

Des stomped into the room, picked up the chair by the desk and flipped it around, slamming it back to the floor, the wood almost cracking under his hands.

Dammit to the bowels of unjustly hell.

He ripped off the shirt tied about his waist and tossed it to the bed, then straddled the seat, sitting, his forearms resting on the high back of the chair. A bottle of brandy sat on the desk next to the bowl of water and he grabbed it, taking a healthy swallow. And another.

Jules stepped into the room behind him, closing the door.

He slammed the bottle onto the desk. “Stop the damn bleeding.”

The growl of his words shook the room, shook the floorboards beneath his feet, but he couldn’t control it. His restraint had lasted until he’d reached the door to his cabin. That was it. And it was damn well going to be unleashed now.

A gasp from Jules and she squeezed herself to the side by his thigh, leaning past him to the basin of water on the desk. She picked up the washcloth next to it and dunked it into the water.

Standing straight, she moved behind him. Silent, untouching, she was assessing his bare back.

The back that had suffered this same punishment too many times in his life.

The faintest touch of her fingertips landed on his back. But not on the line of a fresh wound. On the lifted skin of a lash, long since scarred over.

“This…this is grievous.” Her words the slightest whisper as her fingers trailed along a scar. “These lashings of the past, up and down…too many to count. Are they from Folback?”

“I’m no stranger to justice on the sea, Jules. And, no, none of them are from Folback. Just the new ones.”

She swallowed hard, almost as though she were swallowing a sob. He couldn’t turn around to her. Not while he was still as furious as he was.

“But that you would suffer this for me—it isn’t fair—just another thing that isn’t fair on this blasted ship.”

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