“Oh, no, señor. He’s fair and he pays. But he’s always going on about war and independence. Wants to arm his countrymen and drive out the oppressors.” Carlos shrugged, as if he didn’t care in the least. “What does it matter what flag flies over the head? I keep myself out of trouble. Can’t spend your money if you’re dead.”
“Amen to that,” Spargo said. “I think I should look up your captain. As it happens, I have some very useful cargo to move. Think he’d listen to an offer?”
Again, Carlos shrugged, finished the rum, and stood up. “Por que no? He’ll listen.”
“Excellent. I’ll send word to the ship. Oh, and the first mate’s name?”
“Valentin.”
“Well, I won’t keep you, friend. Enjoy Treversey. Just watch your back.”
Carlos nodded and turned to leave.
As he was heading toward the door, he felt the skinny man’s approach, and inwardly rolled his eyes. So predictable.
But it would be good for Spargo and his gang to think they ruled here, so he was willing to be taken by “surprise.” He allowed the skinny man to get the first hit in (which legitimately hurt, even though Carlos dodged subtly to avoid the worst of the blow). He whirled and managed to ward off the next few blows, making it look like he was working harder than he really was.
The laughter of the crowd was raucous, and reinforced everything Carlos guessed about Spargo and his gang.
“Get him, Howel. Show him how we fight in Cornwall!”
“Aye, give that koeg a proper welcome.”
Carlos made a show of ducking and stepping away, telling Howel in Spanish that he was a pathetic excuse for a sailor and that a Dominican boy of five could fight better than he could. Hell, a girl of five could take him on, and Howel would still lose.
But these gentlemen didn’t speak Spanish, and they all assumed Carlos was scared, or apologetic, or both. The merriment continued as Carlos permitted Howel to push him toward the door.
“Get on your way, you scum. You only walk out of here because Spargo let you.”
Propelled by the helpful shove from his new pal, Carlos hurtled out the door into the bright daylight, blinding after the darkness of the waterfront dive. He stumbled a few steps and nearly fell, except that a random passerby reached out to steady him.
No, not just a random passerby. Poppy.
Chapter 10
Poppy frowned at the man Fate just threw in her path…again. She caught the jacket that had come flying out after Carlos, hurled by some unknown man in the tavern.
“And stay out if ye know what’s good for you!” someone shouted.
She helped Carlos to his feet and then handed him his jacket. “Why are you forever taking off your clothing in public?” she queried. “You did that the very first time I met you, and now you’re doing it again.”
“You’re just lucky,” he said. He took her by the arm. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t want you making the acquaintance of anyone inside of that place.”
“Why were you in there? Ugh, you smell like rum. It seems early for a drink.” Not to mention that there were far better places in town to get said drink. Poppy would prefer a dank back alley compared to the building Carlos just left.
“I was investigating,” he muttered, shrugging into his jacket once more. Thankfully, the harbor was busy, and no one seemed to take any special note of either of them. Poppy was dressed much like any woman in the town, and though Carlos was striking, he wasn’t terribly out of place (especially with his clothing now somewhat rumpled and marked up like all the laborers around them). He ran his hand through his hair, which somehow, magically fell into a style that looked carelessly windswept but also extremely attractive. Somewhat resentful, Poppy remembered her own “windswept” hair of the previous night, which had looked like a bird’s nest.
“We seem to ruin our outfits every time we get involved with smugglers,” Poppy said, walking briskly along the quay. “A warning if I ever saw one.”
“Speaking of that, what were you doing down at the waterfront without an escort?”
“I wanted to see the ships, but I didn’t want the Hobbsons to have to walk down and up again.”
He grunted. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“Well, now I’m not. I’ve got you to protect me. Though I’d prefer it if you didn’t get into more fights today. What could possibly have motivated you to wander into that rat-infested shack?”
“That’s where the leader of Treversey’s most notorious smuggling gang spends his days.”
