Birk had called her Rosana.
The Spanish woman’s black hair swirled around her like flowing satin, and her generous breasts swelled above her tightly laced black stomacher and white underdress. The red material of her hitched-up skirt revealed occasional glimpses of slender thighs as her lush body swayed in a blatantly sexual dance to the tune of the pipes and drum.
In response to the appreciative leers and catcalls from the men, she danced faster, dipped lower, lifted her leg a bit higher. Diana stared, transfixed by the stark sensuality of the woman. Was this the kind of female Alex preferred? One who wore her sexuality as casually as another woman wore her cloak?
Behind her, Birk cleared his throat. “Ah, lassie, I see that Alex isna here. Perhaps we should wait for him in the room.” He took her arm and turned back toward the stairs.
“No, I want to see this.” Tugging loose of his grasp, she stepped out into the crowd. Birk cursed and followed her, glaring at any man who so much as looked at her.
She stopped near the table that served as Rosana’s stage. Folding her arms over her chest, she studied the other woman.
Rosana stopped dancing when she noticed Diana. The sounds of the musicians faded to nothing. Rosana put her hands on her hips, raking her gaze over Diana with unconcealed scorn. The disappointed calls of the men quieted to a hush of anticipation as the two women silently appraised each other.
“So,” Rosana spat. “You are the English whore.”
A low murmur swept the room, broken by an occasional chuckle. Diana glanced at Birk as he opened his mouth to speak, silently warning him not to interfere. His face revealing his misgivings, the Scotsman pressed his lips together and said nothing. She turned her attention back to the dark-haired beauty and tilted her chin.
“I am English,” she said. “And Scottish too, since you ask. But I daresay that you would know more of whoring than I.”
The crowd burst into laughter. Rosana’s dark eyes flashed with fury. She sent a glare around the room before turning her attention back to Diana.
“Do you know who I am?” She tossed her head, sending black hair rippling over her shoulders. “I am Rosana. I am Moreno’s woman.”
“You were Moreno’s woman,” one of the barmaids called spitefully.
Diana raised her brows, wondering if she had encountered not a rival, but a woman scorned.
Rosana glared at the barmaid. “I am still Moreno’s woman,” she declared, then glared down at Diana in challenge.
Diana took in the woman’s hitched-up skirts and overflowing bosom. “It looks to me like you are everyone’s woman,” she observed with amusement.
Laughter shook the walls of the tavern. Rosana’s face reddened with rage. “So. Now you add to your crime with insults!”
“What crime?” Diana scoffed.
Rosana jumped down from the table. The crowd obligingly moved out of the way. “You have tried to steal my man, inglesa.”
“He was never yours. He merely rented you upon occasion.”
The crowd snickered. Rosana glared them into silence before turning back to Diana. Her whole body trembled with wrath.
“You dare mock me? You, with your child’s body and ugly red hair? My Moreno must have been desperate to have bedded such a creature.”
“I am getting tired of being mistaken for a child,” Diana muttered. “I’m a woman, damn it.”
Rosana thrust her breasts forward. “I am more woman than most men can handle.”
Diana rolled her eyes, growing tired of the conversation. “Mayhap ‘tis why you seem to need more than one man.”
“Whore! Puta!” Rosana clenched her hands into fists. “Moreno is mine, inglesa. See you remember that.”
“See that you remember that El Moreno makes his own decisions.” She gave the woman a pitying look. “I’m sorry he hurt you, but it is better if you just accept it.” Diana turned away, determined to go back to her room and forget the entire unpleasant scene. She would wait for Alex to return. Then she would simply ask him what place she held in his life.
“It is you who must accept the truth,” Rosana called after her. “Moreno has no need of an English whore when he can have Rosana.”
Diana stopped, then turned to face the other woman, having reached the limit of her patience. “You keep coming back to the subject of whoring,” she snapped. “I wonder why?”
Titters of laughter came from the crowd. Rosana drew herself up, her lips compressing as her cheeks flamed. Diana shook her head, pitying the Spanish woman, then turned back toward the stairs.
“Inglesa!”
Diana ignored her and kept walking. Birk appeared beside her and then moved in front of her, clearing a path through the crowd.
“I am talking to you, puta!”
She had almost reached her destination when a low growl of fury sounded from behind her. She turned just as Rosana rushed up to her and shoved her. Hard.
“No one ignores Rosana!” the Spanish woman shrieked.
Diana stumbled backwards into Birk, then righted herself. Before the Scotsman could interfere, she stepped up to Rosana and smacked the other woman across the face.
“There. I am not ignoring you,” she retorted, her own temper simmering.
Rosana gasped and raised a hand to her reddening cheek. Stunned silence reigned in the taproom. Then with a howl, she leapt at Diana.
The two women fell to the floor, clawing at clothing and yanking at hair. They crashed into tables and rolled over men’s feet. Rosana wrestled Diana down and straddled her. With a triumphant smile, she pinned Diana’s hands to the floor on either side of her head.
Diana turned her face and sank her teeth into Rosana’s wrist. With a cry of pain, Rosana released Diana to cradle her own injured arm. “You bit me!”
“Aye.” Diana shoved Rosana off her, sending the other woman tumbling into a nearby table. She rose to her feet and watched as an onlooker helped Rosana to stand.
The dark-haired woman shook off the seaman’s helping hands. Boisterous laughter echoed through the tavern, making the Rosana stiffen. She pushed her hair out of her face and glared at Diana with pure hatred.
“Today, inglesa, you die.” She jerked up her skirt and yanked a slender dagger from the sheath strapped to her thigh.
Light flashed off the blade as Rosana lunged. Diana heard Birk cry out in alarm, but she kept her eyes on the weapon. Rosana slashed at her face. Diana jumped back a step and avoided the blade. Rosana stabbed out again. Diana fell back another step. Her thigh bumped against a table.
Rosana came at her. Diana whirled out of the way, grabbing a bottle from the table as she did so. She came around swinging.
“Lassie!” Birk cried.
Horrified, yet unable to stop, Diana watched the bottle crash against the physician’s skull, shattering on impact. Birk gave a startled grunt and crumpled to the floor.
“Birk!” Still holding the jagged neck of the bottle, she crouched beside his inert form. He had been trying to stop the fight to protect her, and this was his reward. She held a hand beneath his nose to see if he still breathed.
“Watch out!”
Diana whirled at the warning, but not quickly enough to avoid Rosana’s blade. The blow that had been meant for her throat slashed her upper arm instead. Rosana lunged for her again. She dove out of her crouch and tackled the Spanish woman around the legs, sending her crashing to the floor.
Diana scrambled to her feet, bottleneck at the ready. Rosana regained her own footing and took up a fighter’s crouch. Her blade gleamed in the candlelight. In the crowd, whispered wagers were placed. From the corner of her eye, Diana noticed that one of the barmaids tended to Birk.
“Inglesa,” Rosana snarled.
“Trollop,” Diana returned.
The two women circled each other, weapons at the ready. They held back at first, each jabbing and darting to feel out the other’s weaknesses. Little by little, the jabs grew swifter, the slashes of more serious intent. They stalke
d each other, each one waiting for the perfect opening.
Rosana sliced. Diana dodged. They circled again.
“Puta,” Rosana hissed. She jabbed upwards. “I will fix your face so Moreno will never look at you again.”
“You can try.” Panting, Diana ducked out of the knife’s way and slashed with the broken bottle. Rosana avoided the move. They circled again.
Rosana leaped forward, sliced the air near Diana’s stomach and fell back again.
They circled. Both puffed with exertion. Each made tentative lunges without giving up her defensive position, waiting for her opponent to make a mistake.
Diana balanced on the balls of her feet. She watched Rosana’s eyes narrow and whirled out of the way just as the other woman swung wildly. Off balance at the unexpected move, Rosana stumbled. Diana grabbed her skirt and jerked her around, bringing up her other hand to grab Rosana’s wrist. She twisted it, forcing the other woman to drop the weapon, then shoved her.
Rosana stumbled backwards. Diana grabbed the knife from the floor and tossed aside the broken bottle. Rosana regained her footing. Shrieking with rage at the sight of her weapon in Diana’s hand, she threw herself at Diana with the obvious intent of knocking her down.
Diana sidestepped the move, coming around as Rosana’s momentum sent the other woman crashing to the floor. She closed in, straddling Rosana’s back. Grabbing a handful of ebony hair, she yanked the other woman’s head back and pressed the dagger to her throat.
“Do you surrender?” The soft words sounded unusually loud in the silence of the room. Rosana nodded as much as she was able. Diana relaxed her grip, but not her guard.
“What the devil is going on here?”
Diana jerked her gaze in the direction of that familiar, authoritative voice. Alex stood just inside the doorway of the tavern. Hands on his hips, he glared and awaited an answer.
Chapter Fourteen
Alex stared at the tableau of Diana holding a blade to Rosana’s throat. Pride surged hard and fast ahead of the many emotions that inundated him. Knowing both women as he did, he had no doubt that Rosana had incited whatever altercation resulted in the present scene. She had started it, he thought with a quick flash of amusement, but she had not expected Diana to finish it.
His amusement faded, and discomfort took its place. A man simply did not want his intended bride engaging in tavern brawls, especially not with a woman of loose morals who had once been his mistress. Anger came into play as he wondered what Diana was doing in the taproom at all. He had left her upstairs in his room. Under guard. Protected. He had left orders that she was to stay there until he himself came to fetch her. Someone would suffer the captain’s wrath for this, he thought darkly.
“What the devil is going on here?” he repeated.
The excited shouts and curses of the onlookers had faded to total silence. Rosana, who had worn a mask of thwarted fury only moments before, assumed a frightened expression.
“Oh, Moreno,” she sobbed. “She is trying to kill me!”
Alex merely raised an eyebrow, more than familiar with Rosana’s machinations. “Release her, Diana.”
Diana gave him an arch look, but removed the blade from the other woman’s throat and released the grip on her hair. Rosana’s head hit the floor with a thump. Diana rose from her position on Rosana’s spine and took a step back. Rosana leaped to her feet and ran to Alex.
“Oh, gracias, Moreno!” The Spanish woman threw her arms around Alex and lay her head on his chest. “She is loca, a madwoman! She was jealous and tried to kill me.”
“Would anyone care to tell me what just occurred here?” he asked, ignoring Rosana. He looked around the room. No one would meet his gaze. A groan claimed his attention as Birk stumbled toward him, holding his head as if it might fall off at any moment. The trickle of blood at his temple alerted Alex to the fact that injury, not drunkenness, caused his friend’s unsteadiness.
“Birk! What happened to you?” Pushing Rosana away, he went to his friend and steadied him with a hand on his shoulder.
“The lassie near killed me wi’ a bottle o’ whiskey.” Birk gave a faint imitation of his usual mischievous grin. “I was plannin’ on doin that maself, ye ken.”
“I understand.” Alex glanced at his former mistress. “I do not take kindly to those who wound my men.”
“It wasna that one, captain.” With pride in his voice, Birk indicated Diana. “It was the other. The Scottish lassie.”
“Indeed.” Alex looked at Diana, who sat on a bench with her arms folded. He studied her profile until she turned her head to face him. Their eyes met in a moment of silent communication. “‘Twould seem you are of a murderous bent this night, my sweet.”
“Only through error or provocation, captain.”
Though tempted to smile at her spirited answer, he managed to keep his expression solemn. “Tell me what happened here.”
She shrugged. “Of the one,” she said, indicating Birk, “‘twas a matter of his hard head appearing where it did not belong. Of the other, ‘twas a matter of defending myself.”
“She lies!” Rosana cried. “She tried to kill me!” She grabbed Alex’s arm. “She is jealous of me, Moreno. When she found out that I am your woman, she came down here and attacked me.”
“Ye lie!” Birk snarled, his tone so ferocious that Rosana flinched. “It was you that was jealous, wench!”
“Birk.” Alex gave the physician a quelling look, then gently peeled Rosana’s fingers from his arm. “Our association is at an end, Rosana,” he said quietly. “I thought we settled this.”
“I cannot believe that you leave me for her,” Rosana said. “She insulted me. Attacked me. Tried to kill me!”
“It was you that started the insults, ye jealous wretch,” Birk growled. “And you were the one tae draw first blood!”
“First blood?” Alex looked at Diana, a cold feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. “You are wounded?”
“‘Tis naught but a small cut.”
With a grim expression, he went to her and pulled her from the bench, turning her so that he could look down at her torn sleeve and the jagged slice that marred her upper arm.
“Were you hiding this from me?”
“‘Tis nothing. Mister Fraser can see to it.” She dismissed the wound with a shrug.
“Mister Fraser has done enough for one evening,” he snapped, suddenly remembering who had been guarding Diana’s door. “And as for you, Rosana.” He turned to face his former mistress, keeping a proprietary hand on Diana’s arm. “You will explain your actions.”
“She tried to kill me!” Rosana looked around the room in a plea for support, but no one stepped forward to lend credence to her words. She stood alone in her lie. “So,” she snarled, her features contorting with fury. “This is how much our time together has meant to you. You would toss me aside for this skinny she-dog!”
“I treated you with respect, Rosana.” He gave her a contemptuous look. “Obviously more than you deserved.”
Rosana stiffened, inhaling sharply. She glanced from him to Diana, her dark eyes a mirror of seething rage. “You will see,” she spat, pointing at Diana. “You hold Moreno in your arms now, but soon he will leave you alone in your cold bed while he visits his rich puta on the hill! Then you will be alone…as I am.”
Alex clenched his jaw and reminded himself that Rosana had no idea she had just insulted his mother. “Rosana,” he warned.
“Do not deny it, Moreno,” the Spanish woman hissed. “The whole island knows that la patrona is your true love, that someday you will return with a ship full of gold and marry her.” She sent Diana a hard look. “Until then the rest of us are just bodies to warm your bed.”
“Enough.” He paused, weighing his words. “I told you that our association is at an end. I think it is best if you leave the island. Mister McBride will see to it.” He gestured, and Mister McBride stepped from the crowd.
Rosana paled. She sent a pleading glance around
the room, but no one would look at her. Eyes shining with tears, she straightened her spine, tossed her black mane and swept towards the door. She paused in the doorway and looked back at Diana.
“Beware, inglesa. Do not give your heart to him. His is already given.” She turned her back and flounced out of the tavern.
Alex gave a brief nod at the door, and McBride hurried after Rosana.
Birk’s voice shattered the quiet left in the tavern after Rosana’s exit. “Would ye be needin’ me tae tend the lassie? I can fetch my tools.”
“Nay, Birk. I shall tend her myself.” Alex gave him an angry look. “See to your own wound, my friend. Then you can present yourself to me tomorrow morning and explain why you disobeyed my orders.”
“Aye, captain,” Birk sighed.
Alex swept Diana into his arms and resisted the impulse to crush her to him. He could have lost her. God love her father for teaching her how to defend herself, for she would have been no match for Rosana without that precious knowledge. Tonight’s incident only reinforced his decision to leave her behind while he went after Marcus. With Rosana gone, she would be safe.
Holding her close, he carried her out of the tavern and into the night.
The warm silence of the night enveloped them as if they had stepped into another world. The sounds of the tavern faded, drowned out by the crunch of Alex’s footfalls as he picked his way along a narrow path through the tropical vegetation.
“Where are you taking me?” Diana asked.
“Hush.” Her heart stopped at the tender smile he gave her, then sped up again at his intimate whisper. “I’m taking you to a secret place.”
She laid her head against his shoulder and enjoyed the way his muscles flexed beneath her cheek. His heart pounded against the hand she rested upon his chest. She knew he was displeased by what had happened at the tavern and did not look forward to whatever scolding awaited. But his gentle care pleased her.
Perhaps now he would see that she could take care of herself, she thought, nuzzling her face into his shirt. She had defended herself against Rosana and won. Maybe now that she had proven herself before the entire crew, he would reconsider his decision to leave her here.
Once a Mistress Page 16
