First Comes Desire

by Tina Donahue

  Canela growled. “Would you harm him too?”

  Diana gripped Canela’s wrist. “I’ve had enough of you. I’m going to tell Tristan what you—”

  “How dare you try to harm me.” She pulled away and shoved Diana.

  Her arms windmilled. She stumbled over a child and fell against a loom. A hook cut into her neck. She cried out and tried to right herself. Another hook caught on her marriage collar, the diamonds tightening on her throat.

  “No.” She held up her hand to keep the children back. “Stay away.”

  They laughed the way children do when playing a new game. Their excited shrieks filled the warm air. They mimicked their mothers and pressed the loom’s treadles, putting the tool into motion. Two boys swung the batten back and forth.

  Diana struggled to take off the collar but each time the loom moved it jerked the band into her throat. She couldn’t swallow or breathe. Frantic, she tried to work her fingers beneath the necklace but wasn’t able to. She opened her mouth to scream. No sounds escaped. She flailed her arm in a desperate attempt to get the children to stop.

  Squealing and laughing, they played harder at their game.

  Terrified, Diana looked for Canela to help.

  The girl had already left the scene.

  * * * *

  Canela hid behind the palms. The little girls jumped on the treadles. The boys shoved the batten repeatedly.

  Diana’s eyes were wild, features twisted in pain and panic. She clawed her neck to free herself. The harder she struggled, the deeper the collar dug into her throat, strangling her.

  Canela kept her voice low. “Play little ones. Continue your silly game. Do not leave. Do not stop.”

  They jumped and shouted.

  Canela smiled. Soon, the Englishwoman would be dead. The innocent children to blame.

  * * * *

  A piercing scream reached Tristan and James in the stables. Before another one sounded, they bolted toward the mansion.

  Gavra ran down the path to them. “Come quickly. Capitaine’s woman needs help.”

  Tristan’s heart slammed into his throat. “What happened? Where is she?”

  “The courtyard.”

  He tore through the mansion and raced to the outside.

  Women and children surrounded Diana. Several of the sturdier females tried to lift and tug her from a loom.

  He shouted for them to get away. They scattered.

  The marriage collar dug into Diana’s throat. Eyes closed, she didn’t seem to breathe. He shoved her hair away and hit a hook trapped beneath her collar. Blinking sweat out of his eyes, he yanked on the hook. Bloody thing wouldn’t budge. With all his might, he pulled. Wood splintered. The hook released and slipped from the necklace.

  She slumped to the ground.

  He found the collar’s clasp, opened it, and threw the blasted diamonds aside. “Breathe.” He shook her. “Breathe.”

  An eternity seemed to pass before she finally inhaled. She struggled for another breath and touched her throat. A mean red line marred her perfect flesh. Blood from the wound dirtied her shoulder.

  He scooped her into his arms.

  James followed him into the mansion. “Do you want me to get Simone?” The healer.

  “Not now. Maybe later, if Diana needs her.”

  “The women said they only left Diana for a moment to fetch the gowns she wanted. How did her collar get caught in so short a time?”

  He had no idea, but if this were Canela’s work, he’d kill her. “Find Canela.” He carried Diana to their bedchamber. “Bring her to the library and keep her there.”

  “Do you think she’s responsible for this?”

  “Do as I say, James.” Tristan kicked the door closed, brought Diana to their bed, and gently touched her throat.

  “No.” Her voice rasped as it would after not speaking for a long time. “Hurts.”

  He dropped his hand. “Can you breathe freely now?”

  She made a face.

  “Diana?”

  She trembled. Tears followed, then wrenching sobs.

  Tristan gathered her close and brushed her hair aside.

  She gasped.

  He’d accidentally touched her wound. “Forgive me. One of the hooks cut you. Were you injured anywhere else?”

  Weeping, she shook her head.

  “Do you want Simone to tend your wound?”

  “Don’t leave.” She clutched him.

  He held her as tightly. “Who did this to you?”

  Diana pressed her face to his neck.

  “Was it Canela?”

  Another sob escaped her but she shook her head.

  Tristan wasn’t certain how to react. “Are you sure?”

  “I am.” Her voice cracked. “It was an accident.”

  “Diana!” The door flew open. Peter hurried inside. “I was out riding. I just heard. Is she all right?”

  “She’s fine.” Tristan cradled her to him. “But she and I need to be alone.”

  Peter flushed pink. “Oh…right.” He fled the room, slamming the door on his way out.

  Diana giggled.

  Tristan smiled softly. “What’s so amusing?”

  She wrapped her arms around him and shivered badly. “I have no idea.”

  “How did this happen? You have to tell me.”

  “What I have to do is learn French.”

  “Your inability to speak the language caused this?”

  She rested her forehead against his shoulder. “I was using hand gestures to tell the women I wanted to work on the loom, but I must have insulted them because they left.” She swallowed and winced. “After they were gone, I stumbled over a child and fell against the loom. They thought it was a game so they played with the treadles and batten, even though I cried for them to stay back. The poor things couldn’t understand me. They kept playing. The collar tightened about my throat. I must have swooned. There you have it.”

  He stroked her back. “I’m still confused. Why did you stumble over a child?”

  She held him more closely.

  “Did Canela push you?”

  “It was an accident. I hardly think she meant—”

  “Then she did do this to you.” He muttered an oath and eased Diana away so she had to look at him. “Why are you protecting her? She deliberately pushed you into the loom.”

  “It didn’t happen that way. She was throwing feed to the fowl, some hit me, we had words, and I grabbed her arm. I was wrong to have done so. She was only trying to get away.”

  “She’s about to get her wish because I’m making certain she leaves our home today.”

  “You can’t.” Diana clutched his arm. “I don’t want you to upset the islanders by taking my side over any of them, especially if no harm was meant. What will they think?”

  “I’ll explain to them as I’m explaining to you. Canela did mean harm because she’s a menace.”

  “Where will she go? How will she live?”

  “With Adamo. It’s high time she wed the man and shared his home and future. Perhaps having a child will tame her, but whether it does or not, she’s no longer welcome in our home. No one who tries to harm you is. Nothing’s going to change my mind on the matter.”

  Diana touched her throat and frowned. “Where is it?”

  “What?”

  “My marriage collar.” She patted her gown and even looked inside her top for the thing. “What happened to it?”

  “After I took it off you at the loom I threw it aside.”

  “Why?”

  “It nearly killed you.”

  “It was an accident. I want it back.”

  “No. If it’s diamonds you like, I have others.”

  “I want the marriage collar. Please. It proves I belong to you and I’m at your side willingly. I love you, Tristan. My God, I adore you.”

  Chapter 10

  After a lengthy search, James hadn’
t found Canela in the mansion or courtyard. He questioned the other women. None had seen her, nor had the men. Daunted, he finally trudged to Adamo’s house, close enough to reach by foot. With the last of the path angling to a high point, James was sweaty and breathing hard upon reaching the structure.

  Adamo waited, eyes narrowed, jaw set. He’d certainly prepared for the worst with a brace of pistols across his chest. An obvious display of force when James had stupidly arrived unarmed, not having considered he’d need a weapon. He recalled telling Tristan how peaceful this land was, nothing like England. It appeared the blissful state had ended. “Bonjour.”

  A muscle jumped in Adamo’s jaw.

  James tried a smile. “Tristan wants to speak to Canela. Have you seen her?"

  “She is my concern. Not his.”

  James guessed she was in Adamo’s house. The mud building was of sound construction and lovingly tended, but smaller than Canela’s chamber at the mansion. He figured she hated it. Too bad Adamo couldn’t see how grasping she was.

  James held up his hands. “I want no trouble, nor does Tristan. He’s been more than fair about sharing everything. You recall the last pirate who ruled this land. He never allowed the islanders near the stone house. He took the best for himself and his woman. All Tristan requests is your cooperation in finding—”

  “Canela has done nothing wrong. When I wed her tonight, I will rule her, no one else. Tell that to the Englishman.”

  James tried like bloody hell to be nice. “Tristan would appreciate it if you and Canela gave him and Diana the good news at the stone house.”

  “How can she be alive?” Canela asked in English. She lifted the cowhide over the entryway and came out warily, her hair in disarray.

  “Diana’s quite well.” James spoke French, wanting Adamo to understand the conversation. If Canela persisted with English, he’d translate for the man. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

  Canela frowned. “I do not believe you. Tristan sent you here to blame me for what the children did.”

  “What are you talking about? What would they have to do with Diana?”

  “Go into my house.” Adamo gestured her there. “I will handle this.”

  She ignored him. “Tell Tristan her death is not my fault. I was here, not in the courtyard.”

  Yet she was certain Diana had died. James got a sickening feeling about what Canela had done. “If you refuse to go to the stone house, Tristan will come here.”

  Adamo advanced a step. “This is my land. She is my woman.”

  Canela shot him a disgusted look.

  James was wary of both, focusing at last on her. “I give you my word Tristan won’t harm you. He’s never hurt a woman in his life. He simply wants to speak to you.”

  Raw fury flared in her eyes. “This is not about his love for me, but the collar.”

  “The marriage collar?”

  She smiled.

  James had seen the same on pirates before they killed someone.

  “The collar belongs to me now.” She lifted her chin. “The diamonds should have always been mine.”

  Adamo stared. “You have the Englishwoman’s marriage collar?”

  “It. Is. Mine.”

  “Where is it?”

  She pressed her lips together.

  He pushed past into the house. She followed. Pottery clinked. Items slapped and rustled. Canela wailed. “No! Give it to me. It is mine.”

  Adamo stormed outside, the diamonds in his fist. She tried to snatch them. He held them away from her.

  “Take it.” Adamo tossed the collar to James, then grabbed Canela’s arm to keep her at his side.

  She pummeled his hand and shouted.

  He held tight and glared at James. “Tell the Englishman I am not a thief, and that no one comes onto this land without my permission. If he tries, I will shoot him.”

  * * * *

  Tristan cupped Diana’s face. “What did you say?”

  “I adore you. Not only are you my husband, but also my friend. One I love and respect. Now, I want my blasted collar. Fetch it for me at once. Please.”

  He laughed and pulled her into him. “That’s not the pact we made.”

  “Pact?”

  “I said I would release you from the collar when I knew I had your all.”

  “Rubbish. Freedom isn’t what I want, at least not the kind to take me from your side. I want to wear the collar. I’m proud to do so.”

  Tristan smiled briefly. Although her voice had already improved, she wouldn’t speak normally for a while and the marks on her throat pained him. “You could have died because of the collar.”

  “I didn’t. It was a stupid accident, nothing more. Make me yours. Allow me to wear the symbol of our love for the rest of our days.”

  After a hearty embrace, he pushed off the mattress. “I’ll fetch it.” He’d reached the door, stopped, and came back.

  She left the bed. “What is it?”

  As happy as he’d been a moment ago, he was now uncertain. “I have to tell you something. I beat up the tree because I was angry with myself for bringing you here and restricting your future. I thought I should give you your freedom so you could sail to England.”

  “How could you ever think—”

  “Let me finish.” He didn’t want to tell her this, but had to. “I was willing to give you gold and jewels, including the marriage collar, to use as a dowry for another husband. Preferably a noble.”

  She laughed.

  He stepped back. “You find my confession amusing?”

  “I find your reasoning downright mad.” She gestured to him. “Who could be nobler than you?”

  He smiled self-consciously. “You do keep saying so. I want you to know how much I adore you. You also have my deepest respect and friendship.”

  She glowed, her embrace straight from paradise. “Then it’s time for me to hear about your past. When you return with my collar, I want you to tell me every detail. You gave me your word you’d do so when we became friends.”

  He could curse himself for promising such a thing. “Every detail? If you want me to put you to sleep, I can think of a more pleasant way to do so.”

  “I won’t be sleeping. Will you tell me your story, please?”

  “When I come back.”

  * * * *

  Vincent strode past his men to an islander.

  The native flinched.

  As well he should. Vincent was now ship’s captain as Miles Montgomery had met with an unfortunate accident last night. The man’s body lay at the bottom of the ocean, his ability to deal with Bishop no longer required. Vincent had enough information about the wealthy merchant to ask for Diana’s ransom himself. He simply needed to find her and Tristan.

  Vincent gestured for Storley, who held a tightened cord in his fists. Storley knew a smattering of the Malagasy language used in Madagascar. “Ask the savage how many islands can be neared only by skiffs, possibly longboats, not sloops.”

  Storley presented the question.

  The islander trembled.

  “Wrap the cord around his head.” Vincent spoke to his crew. “Bring the others forward. Make certain they see this.”

  The pirates hauled the natives close to witness what happened when a man refused to answer a direct question. The term for this particular torture was woolding, quite effective in loosening a victim’s tongue. After securing the cord to a piece of wood and putting the device around the man’s head, Storley turned the wood, tightening the cord. Eventually, the man’s eyes would burst from his skull.

  Well before that happened, the native screamed and told Vincent what he needed to know.

  “Very good. Now ask the fool if he’s seen a white man who has light hair and eyes. A tall man who sometimes carries a book.”

  The islander nodded even before Storley had finished relating Tristan’s description.

  Vincent could scarcely contain his excitement. “
Ask him where the man is.”

  Storley did. The native shook his head and babbled something. Storley looked over at Vincent. “Says he don’t know.”

  “Twist the cord.”

  The native screeched, but offered no answer.

  When the man was dead, the other natives were openly terrified but said nothing.

  Vincent refused to believe they didn’t have the information he needed. He pointed to a man who trembled uncontrollably. “Bring him forward. Do the same to him as was done to his friend. Then to the rest until they tell us where Tristan is.”

  * * * *

  Tristan didn’t find the marriage collar in the courtyard. “Eduard.” He gestured the little boy over.

  Eduard ran up and bumped into Tristan’s legs. After Tristan had given him a good swing, he asked the giggling child if he’d seen the collar.

  Eduard stuck his finger in his ear. “Canela a pris.” Canela took it.

  Curbing his anger, Tristan patted the child’s head. “Merci, Eduard.”

  Once he’d given rides to the other children, he stormed to the library to confront Canela, but found Peter inside.

  The boy looked up from his book and shot to his feet. “Is Diana still all right? I thought doing these lessons would bring her around. She’s not ill again, is she?”

  “No.”

  Peter grinned. “Good. Then there’s no need to do the lessons.”

  “There is unless you want me to put you to work in the fields, stables, or pig pens. Do you honestly want to labor there?”

  The boy sank to his chair. “I’ll do the lessons, all right?”

  “Has Canela been in here?”

  “No.”

  Tristan frowned. “Where’s James?”

  Peter lifted his shoulders.

  Tristan checked James’s room and the mansion. His friend wasn’t about. Tristan hurried to Adamo’s house, guessing Canela had hidden the collar there. Halfway to the spot, he came upon James. The man was deep in thought. When he looked up and saw Tristan, he flinched.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine. Here.” James tossed the collar. “Canela had it.”

  Tristan gripped the diamonds. “Did she put up much of a fight?”

  “Only with Adamo.” James dragged his hair off his shoulders. “He didn’t know she took the thing. When he found it, he handed it right over and said he ain’t no thief, and you best not come onto his property without his permission because if you do, he’ll shoot you.”