Destiny of the Heart (Viking Destiny)

by K. Young

  “Hold your ground, sir. I'm quite sure your brother likes his belongings where they are.” She added with enough force to cause them both to stare at her in surprise again.

  “I say, Derrick. The little one has teeth.” Tristan laughed.

  “Nice of you to notice. Now, be a good chap and grab her for me.” Derrick said irritably.

  Tristan moved to do just that, but received a blow to the face for his effort. He was quite surprised that she had enough strength to manage a move like that and so he didn't see her move again until it was too late and he was already on his back. At the look on Tristan's face, Derrick's anger drained away and he started laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

  “Really, Derrick, it wasn't that funny. Do help me up.” Tristan winced as Derrick pulled him up from the floor.

  Kristen took no chances, and moved a safe distance away, placing a good bit of furniture between them and her. Tristan laughed and shook his head.

  “Did you teach her that? Afraid it would be just like old times?” Tristan teased.

  “You'll bloody well stay away from her.” Derrick threatened.

  Tristan lifted a brow and turned to look at Kristen. “Seems I'm not to be near you, m'dear. But, since we're on the subject, I must know where you learned such moves. They were indeed effective.”

  “My apologies, but I didn't want you to grab me. However, my training is of no import.” Kristen added.

  “I see. Well, I can assure you that such knowledge is unnecessary in my presence.” He bowed politely.

  Kristen inclined her head but kept her wary gaze steady between them. Tristan couldn't help himself. She was truly something. “Afraid of Derrick, little one? Surely you can handle him.”

  “Aye, but he wouldn't fight fair and we all know it. I'd just as soon he keep his distance.”

  Derrick scowled and crossed his arms. When he got his hands on her, he would wring her bloody neck.

  “What, precisely, is it you think he would do?” Tristan asked, amused.

  “No doubt he would lock me in a room.”

  Tristan laughed again. “It sounds like my brother has indeed lost his finesse with women.”

  “Don't encourage her, Tristan.”

  “I am merely being polite, Derrick.”

  “A bloody pirate is not polite.”

  “True, but a gentlemen pirate is.”

  “You're a wretched “

  Kristen rolled her eyes. Derrick's nasty demeanor was starting to get on her nerves. “Bloody everlasting hell, Derrick do stop being so rude to everyone.”

  Tristan lifted a brow. “Does she always swear so much?”

  “If you have a question about me, perhaps you should be asking me. I can speak, you know.” She was pushing her luck, she knew she was.

  "Yes, I've noticed." Tristan said dryly, though the look he gave Derrick was utter amusement.

  Derrick frowned and his eyes began to glow, a warning sign that he was reaching his limits with Tristan. Not that Tristan cared. He could more than handle his own with his dear brother.

  Tristan cleared his throat. “Well, perhaps you two should freshen up and rest before dinner. The lady was entirely correct when she said that I'd like to keep my house the way it is, and at the rate you two are going, it will be in shambles well before then.”

  “Perhaps a breather from each other is in order.” Derrick replied coldly. “Besides, I have business to discuss that needs immediate attention.” His eyes never left hers. Sparks flew between them, both passionate and angry.

  “As you wish. Kristen, I have another lady who is here visiting, and I'm sure she would love your company. It would seem you two have much in common.”

  Before Kristen could ask any questions, a woman appeared from the hallway behind them, speaking rapidly in another language.

  “Blanco diablo! Dos? Oh, ay dios mio!” She said, crossing herself.

  “Ah, here she is now. Chelsea, please come and meet my guests.”

  “No! One of you is bad enough, but two I cannot take. I want to go home, now!” She demanded angrily. Kristen noticed she had a thick accent as she spoke to them in English.

  “I've already told you no. Now, come.” He held out his hand for her.

  Kristen looked between them as the woman walked slowly to his side. She recognized the look of lust in Tristan's eyes and knew it was the desire of a man battling with himself to stay in control. She had seen that look on Derrick often enough to know. But, Kristen also saw that the lady was in much the same situation as herself. Desperately attracted to someone she shouldn't be.

  “Chelsea, this is my brother Derrick and his lady friend, Kristen.” Tristan said pleasantly.

  “Hola, coma esta.” Chelsea added absently, not thinking.

  “What did you say?” Derrick asked.

  “She said, “Hi, how are you?”” Kristen answered. Her mother had a gift of languages and had taught her a few, Spanish being one of them.

  They all looked at her with different degrees of surprise on their face. She merely lifted her brow and shrugged.

  “You understood her?” Derrick asked.

  “Yes, of course. She is speaking Spanish. Beautiful language.”

  Chelsea smiled brightly, a fact that had Tristan looking just a little more lustful. She began speaking rapidly in her language.

  “Do you truly understand me, then? Are you fluent enough to converse with me? It has been so long since I have heard my own tongue!”

  “Yes, I understand you perfectly. My speech is perhaps not as good as yours, but fluent enough I think.”

  “Oh, thank God! Please, you must help me. I wish to go home to my family and this arrogant cur will not allow me to do so.” Chelsea pleaded. Cautiously, she looked between the two men. They were somewhere between bemused and entertained.

  “Did he take you against your will?”

  “Yes, he took me the night before I was to get married.”

  Kristen gasped and rounded on Tristan. She pulled back her hand and slapped him with all the force she had, then switched to English for his benefit.

  “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you bloody bastard!”

  “What the devil did you hit me for?” Tristan asked angrily.

  “You had no right!” Kristen screamed.

  Kristen started to leap toward him again, fully intent on attacking him, but Derrick grabbed her and pulled her to him. He wrapped his arms around her protectively, but she pushed him away. Tristan rounded on Chelsea.

  “What the hell did you say to her?” He demanded.

  “Only the truth.” She replied calmly, happy to have an ally.

  “Which is?”

  “That you have taken me from mi familia and mi espouso and will not return me as I have asked.”

  Tristan rounded on Kristen. “And for that you hit me? Like a girl?” He asked incredulously.

  “If you were not Derrick's brother, I'd have done more.” She glared at him.

  “I don't doubt it, but if you ever hit me again I will see to it that you are properly taken care of. Obviously my brother “

  “Do not make threats, Tristan. I will not allow you to harm her, no matter her actions.” Derrick interrupted.

  Tristan raised a questioning brow. “I believe I need a bloody drink.” With that, he stalked off to his study and slammed the door.

  Derrick kissed Kristen on the forehead and followed his brother into the study. The two women were left alone in the entryway.

  “Gracias, Senorita. That was unnecessary, and perhaps unwise.”

  “Perhaps, but I understand what it is like to be helpless in a situation and I don't like to see others in a similar way.”

  Chelsea laughed nervously. “You don't seem to have a problem taking care of yourself. I saw you throw Tristan, it is why I came down.”

  “I can certainly handle my own now, but it was not always so. My mother taught me a great many things.” “And where did she learn these things?�
�

  “From my father.”

  Chelsea nodded. “Do you think you could teach me some of that?”

  “What, the fighting? If you're stuck here with a man like that, then certainly. Planned on doing so anyway.”

  Chelsea grinned. It was good to have another woman she could talk to that would understand her problems, even if there was nothing she could do. The other women in the house didn't seem the least bit interested in Chelsea's distress. They were, in fact, rather put out that Chelsea was there.

  “Thank you.” Chelsea said quietly.

  Kristen nodded in acknowledgment and smiled. “Let's get started, shall we?”

  Kristen grabbed Chelsea's arm and made for the stairs.

  “Senorita, I'm afraid I'm clumsy at the best of times, I cannot possibly learn anything in this dress.”

  “Then we shall improvise. Where are Tristan's rooms?”

  Chelsea led the way to the top of the stairs and down the hallway until they reached the last door on the left. Kristen followed her in and looked around. It was most fashionable and could have been the room of any English gentleman's. Well, not that she would know, of course, but the room was elegant enough for her to assume. She spotted the trunk at the foot of the bed and marched over to it, determined to help Chelsea any way she could.

  After rifling through the clothes inside, she pulled out the smallest she could find, which weren't very small at all.

  “These are probably still too big, but we can roll and tuck where we need to so that they suit our needs.”

  “Alright.” Chelsea took the clothes and walked behind the partition to change.

  Kristen pursed her lips in thought. “Do you think Tristan will have a fit about us using his clothes?” She asked curiously.

  “I think he will have a fit for you teaching me, but I do not care. As long as I can fight him when he takes me to his bed again “

  “Again?!” Kristen gasped. “You didn't tell me that he had taken you.”

  “Did you think he had not?” She asked, indifferent to Kristen's shock.

  “No, but it puts a different light on the subject when you actually say it.”

  “You English have a funny way of looking at things. What difference does it make whether you merely thought it or I confirmed it? The results are still the same.”

  “True.” Kristen conceded.

  Chelsea walked out from behind the partition and spread her arms to show Kristen her work. The clothes looked as though they had swallowed her whole, but she had done her best to tuck them in as well as she could. Kristen looked over Chelsea's handy work and was struck by how incredibly beautiful she was, even in a pirate's borrowed clothes. Like the girl who had answered the door, Chelsea looked exotic. She was richly tanned with dark hair and eyes. She had a pert little nose that turned up at the end just enough to be endearing. And, she had dimples in both cheeks so that when she smiled, she seemed genuinely happy. Kristen liked her immediately, and if not for Derrick, she would have torn Tristan apart for hurting her.

  “It is ridiculous looking, no?” Chelsea switched to Spanish.

  “Yes, it is rather comical.” Kristen replied, also in Spanish.

  Chelsea laughed. “Shall we go outside or do you want to train in here?”

  “Let's see. Probably outside as there will be more room.”

  “Si. I know a spot by the pond that I like to visit when I wish to be alone with my thoughts. I don't believe we'll be disturbed there.”

  Kristen nodded and motioned for Chelsea to lead the way. They left the house and went to the pond to begin their training. The closer they got to the pond, the more excited Chelsea became. And, she was especially grateful to Kristen for being willing to stand up for her, and to teach her. Under different circumstances, she could see being friends with Kristen. She hoped that whatever came of this situation, she might meet Kristen again, but for now she was content to learn as much as she could. And so began her training.

  Chapter 28

  Derrick walked into Tristan's study and shut the door behind him. Tristan was standing near the fireplace, a brandy in his hand, and Derrick waited as his brother downed the drink in frustration. After several moments, Tristan finally looked up and gestured toward the brandy table. Derrick sauntered over and poured himself a drink.

  "Dare I ask what the hell that was all about?" Tristan asked dryly.

  Derrick knew his brother's frustration wasn't really with him, and he could sympathize because he knew exactly what Tristan's problem was. He returned his attention to his glass and swirled the amber liquid around.

  "Kristen will be my wife and I won't allow any harm to come to her."

  Tristan had been in the process of taking a drink. With Derrick's declaration, he fairly choked. He looked at Derrick in surprise, opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and shook his head. Derrick would have laughed if he didn't think it would have caused a fight. Normally he would be willing to oblige his brother in their favorite past time, but just now he had much that needed to be discussed.

  "I'm at a loss for words." Tristan finally said.

  "Well, that's certainly a first."

  "Are you serious?"

  "Very. You could say that she has taken me by surprise."

  "One doesn't marry a surprise, Derrick. Particularly men of our ilk."

  "Perhaps, but I wish to marry her nonetheless."

  Tristan sighed. He could see why his brother would wish to marry the gel. She was rather comely, and she was feisty to be sure. But, Tristan wasn't fond of her quick temper and ability to back it up. A woman in a pique could be charmed when she didn't have teeth, but Kristen, well let's just say Tristan was glad it was Derrick's problem and not his. Now, Chelsea. That was a whole other problem.

  "I can't have her gainsaying me or throwing me on my arse in front of my men. You know as well as I what the consequences of that can be.” Tristan said.

  “I'll speak to her.” Derrick did indeed understand where his brother was coming from, and he was beginning to think he shouldn't have brought Kristen at all.

  “Good. Now, where the devil did she learn to fight like that? And her language! You would think she was born in a tavern, but clearly she is a lady. Can't credit that, indeed I can't.” Tristan brooded over his drink.

  “All she ever says is that her mother taught her. I haven't gotten much more from her on the subject...yet.”

  “Well, she certainly gains notice with her bold ways. How did you come to possess her?”

  “Interesting story, that. She sort of fell into my lap.” Derrick grinned, remembering his first several meetings with the woman.

  “How so?”

  "I first ran into her down by the docks. I'd been boxing, and some locals didn't care for the fact that I won."

  "Showing off again?"

  "Exercising."

  Tristan snorted his disbelief, but took a drink and motioned for Derrick to continue. Derrick scowled.

  "Anyway, Jack and I were in a bit of a pickle, and she helped us out. She makes for an interesting distraction."

  "I see. And, what was she doing there?"

  "Looking for me, it seems."

  Tristan lifted his brow, waiting for the rest of the story. Derrick was inclined to keep him in suspense, not entirely sure how the next bit of the story would be taken.

  "Well, out with it dear boy!" Tristan grouched as he walked over to the closest empty seat.

  Derrick chuckled and followed suit, taking the seat opposite Tristan.

  "It seems our dear brother has betrothed me to the young lady, though after I told her no when she sought me out, it's been damn hard to change her mind."

  Tristan looked at Derrick as though he were mad. Scott was a lot of things, but he had never put them in a position which required marriage. Kicking Tristan out of the family, well that was something he deserved, but deliberately putting Derrick on the marriage mart was taking Scott's high-handed position a bit too far. Tristan was
positively livid, and he didn't understand why Derrick had brought the instrument of his misfortune with him to the island.

  "You're joking." Tristan said dryly, hoping this was some sort of elaborate jest.

  "'Fraid not. Got the documents right here." Derrick pulled the marriage contract out of his jacket pocket and tossed them to Tristan.

  Tristan glanced through them and wished he didn't occupy a tropical island and the fireplace wasn't just for show. He would burn those documents to ash and not think twice about it. Tristan admitted that he and his brother often saw things very differently, but he wasn't at all sure what had gotten into Derrick to make him go along with this harebrained idea.

  "Why haven't you burned these?" Tristan asked.

  "Because I don't want to."

  "I'll do it for you, then." Tristan stood up so fast that he dropped his glass of brandy.

  Derrick rolled his eyes at his brother's enthusiasm. He should have known that Tristan wouldn't understand this.

  "You'll do nothing of the sort. Give them back, if you please."

  "I don't please. What the devil has gotten into you?"

  Derrick furrowed his brow and wondered what the devil had gotten into Tristan. It wasn't like him to be so opposed to something Derrick wanted.

  "I could ask you the same thing, Tristan."

  Tristan sighed and tossed the papers back to Derrick, then bent over to pick up his glass. He didn't bother to wipe up the spilled drink; instead he walked over to his table and poured another glass. Derrick watched as Tristan downed it, then poured another before he walked back to his seat.

  "Continue." Tristan said absently.

  “She was hiding in one of the caves I use for my activities, the ones we used to play in as children. As I recall, she was running away from home, though, at the time, I thought she was meeting a lover. I decided to make her my mistress, but that arrangement doesn't seem permanent enough for me now.”

  Tristan lifted a brow in mock horror. “Have I missed something?“

  “No.” Derrick took a drink.

  “Then what the bloody hell are you thinking?”

  “She didn't care about Charlie.”

  Both of Tristan's brows shot up his forehead. He looked at Derrick for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. His brother, God love him, was an idiot.