“I’m sorry. I didna mean to frighten ye.”
With a hand over his heart, the boy nodded. “I didna hear ye come back in. How’s Duncan?” His breath came in shallow bursts.
“He’ll be fine.” Colin took note of the blood smeared on the front of the lad’s clothes. He crossed his arms, knitted his brows and watched the lad work. “I’m still waiting for an answer.”
Sean looked at him questioningly. “Excuse me?”
“How did ye learn to mend wounds like that?” It wasn’t a task men, let alone young lads usually performed. Odd for a lad of his age.
“Oh, um, my mother taught me.”
The way the lad wouldn’t meet his eyes and the redness of his cheeks were giveaways that he was lying.
“Yer mother was a healer?”
“What? Oh, um, no. She just liked to sew her needlepoint. I would sit and watch her.”
Bollocks. He wasn’t believing his explanation. No lad was going to sit and watch his mother sew when he could be out watching his father perform the tasks of men.
Sean struggled to move the pot from the flame. Honey stepped over and helped him. He had no strength. He was positive the boy was being untruthful. He just did not ken his reason why.
“The men can come in and get the food to break their fast. Let’s go clean up.”
The lad’s eyes opened round and wide, the blue darkening, but he didn’t say anything, just nodded his head and followed Colin out the door.
Back in his quarters, he opened the door to his cupboard and pulled out a clean tunic. He turned to Sean, “Do ye have another shirt?”
Sean nodded and reached into the shelf and pulled out a shirt, but made no move to change. Colin pulled the tunic over his head, grabbed the clean one, unfolded it and brought it down over his shoulders, tugging at the hem to straighten it out.
“What’s the matter?”
“N-nothing.” Sean paused, biting his lower lip. “Would ye mind leaving so that I can change?”
Colin was taken aback. “Are ye daft? Change so we can get back to work.” He turned to his desk and started to go through some of his papers, but the boy just stood there, not moving.
“Could ye please go?” he asked quietly, eyes lowered to the floor.
He didn’t have time for games. Colin turned to chastise the lad and his words caught in his throat. Sean was pale. Understanding hit him like a punch to the gut.
Of course. That would explain why he was always so wary around his men.
He hadn’t asked how long ago Sean’s parents had passed. But it seemed by the size of him, that he’d been living without a home and regular meals to eat for quite some time.
No doubt he’d come across some unsavory characters as he wandered the streets.
Had the poor lad… Colin couldn’t even finish the thought in his head.
Big, blue eyes pled for him to leave the room.
Among his fellow pirates, Colin may have well been known for his ruthless attitude, but not when it came to those wronged and less fortunate. His heart broke into pieces whenever someone had been mistreated. Especially a child.
Colin hissed. At the same time his blood heated at the thought of the bastard who had hurt the lad.
“Who was it?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as he tried to keep his raging temper from boiling over and scaring the lad even more than he already was.
Sean looked at him, shadows darkening his petite features. “I, uh,” he clamped his mouth shut, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I dinna understand yer question, sir.”
He let the sir slip. The lad was already traumatized enough. “The person that caused ye harm. Who was it?” He ground out the last question. His temper rising, causing his nostrils to flare.
