Justin had one last question. "And just how did the good lord die?"
She met Justin's gaze directly. For some reason she wanted him to know. She, like all of England, knew of Justin Phillip's reputation; his bold courage, the ruthlessness, his traitorous activities, his clever ability to make all things English look foolish. Having neither the mind nor the inclination to examine the values behind Justin's activities, she foolishly thought she'd gain such a man's respect by confessing.
"Wouldn't you know," she began and in a rather seductive voice, "the good lord died suddenly and I must say 'quite unexpectedly' in his sleep." She paused for effect. "Some short time after he finished his will."
A thick silence descended over the campfire and everyone, even Cajun who always seemed unaffected, was taken aback by the woman's admission of coldblooded murder. Everyone but Christina, who completely missed the point, missed it because such an idea was quite literally unconscionable.
Justin rose suddenly. "The air grows cold and foul suddenly. Christina?" he said and swept her up to his arms.
Carolyn Knolls was forced to see that she'd made a horrible mistake and, to her surprise, she felt an honest blush of shame rise in her cheeks.
Everyone else rose as well. Moving with the others, the men were heard muttering things like, "Thank God women like that are few and far between." 'Tisn't natural, I say..."
Once in the privacy of their cave, Christina ventured, "I don't believe she really meant that."
Justin looked down at her. He had thought she hadn't grasped the meaning of the woman's last statement. "Meant what?"
"That she's not sorry her husband died. Oh perhaps at first she truly did marry him for his wealth and title. As awful as that is, many families still arrange marriages for that reason," she informed him. "But, well, I'm sure after a time, she cared for him a little. Especially if he was, as you said, such a kind and good person."
Justin could not imagine any artist drawing a more startling contrast between two women than that which existed between Christina and Carolyn Knolls. He gently lifted back her head and stared at her intently to whisper with a strange intensity, "I love you, Christina."
* * * * *
Christina woke to the dark space of the cave. She knew immediately what had awakened her. Justin, both his arms and his warmth, was gone again. The stars shone bright through the skylight and except for the ever-present sound of the waterfalls, all was still. It was surely the middle of the night.
With hands bracing on the cavern wall, she lifted herself slowly, always cautious of tearing the stitches but especially now that they were almost healed. The floor of the cave felt cool and moist on her bare feet. She limped awkwardly to the mouth of the cave and stared out into the dark night. It was so quiet. The moon shone a bright ribbon of light over the sea in the distance. Not a breeze stirred.
She listened intently for a sound, that sound, the muted cries of Diego. The sound that would take Justin from her. Almost every night now those cries would bring Justin, and often Jacob and Cajun as well, to Diego's hut. Moving him into a small hut down the beach hardly helped, though it did bring some peace to all others.
The silence suggested once again that Cajun knocked the man out with a blow. A blow was sometimes the only merciful thing to do. She had heard though that a blow to the head can cause one to lose their wits and make them simple. Repeated blows surely caused more damage.
How long could Diego last?
If it was up to Justin's men, Diego would be murdered immediately. She still heard rumblings from the men to that effect, at least every time Diego's gross pain was heard in his cries, and this despite his obvious suffering, the equally obvious fact that he was a dying man without help of a murderous hand. How could they think Justin's mercy as weakness?
Wondering and concerned, she limped back to bed and carefully lay down. But sleep was elusive. It was not only the tumult of thoughts about Diego, wondering still what crime he had committed, but more to the present, it required the sheer force of her will not to scratch the stitches.
"Jacob! I'm warning you—" Justin's whispered voice came from outside.
"John was right—I'm your friend, Justin, and 'tis my place to speak. Lord, you've got to do it, you've got to. 'Tisn't just that Diego—of all men—deserves it, but it's startin' to wear on your men—"
"Damn you! I can't, I just can't! Not yet—"
Christina couldn't hear Jacob's reply but Justin's voice sounded loud and clear with its warning.
"Don't push our friendship further than I'll let it go!
Silence. The voices stopped as quickly as they started. Christina was shocked; even Jacob wanted Diego killed! How hard it must be for Justin to hold to his principles...
* * * * *
"She's leadin' 'em on, prancin' about like a she-cat in heat, practically promising each poor sod a piece once her house is built."
Neither Jacob's crude words nor the disgust in his voice were lost on Justin as he rowed out to the barrier reef that marked the far side of the lagoon. He had been gone two days and two nights to hunt boar again and upon his return, one of his men presented him with the news that a large reef shark fed in the lagoon. One thought of another attack of Christina's legs had determined the day's task, and they hoped to add shark to the boar feast that night.
"I know, Justin replied, not interrupting the athletic grace of his endeavor.
"You know?" Jacob repeated as though unconvinced. "Well that thar house will be finished inside of a week and it don't take a devil's imagination to know what's going to happen when John and the others find 'the lady' has her door barred." The sun was already blistering hot. He took off his straw hat, wiped his forehead, and replaced it. "Well," he prodded, "what are you going to do?"
"I, my friend, am going to do nothing." Justin did not miss a beat with either oar or the conversation. "It's her game and she's played it before. It will be my pleasure to show her what happens when she plays the game with real men instead of an innocent old gent."
Jacob glanced over the smooth blanket of blue water, studying it intently as he imagined a scene played out there. "She's not likely to survive that."
"No, probably not."
* * * * *
Feigning a weak voice, Carolyn called out, "Who is it?" Not that she didn't know.
John chuckled good-naturedly at this, passed the coconut jar of rum to one of the four others, and replied, " 'Tis ye lovers of last resort, my lady."
"I'm not feeling well," Carolyn said, finding it increasingly difficult to conceal her growing irritation at the men's near-constant interruptions. The idiots build her a lousy one-room shack, hardly suitable for a servant and they expect—what do they expect? Surely not that—even these imbeciles couldn't harbor such a notion.
"Oh aye, my lady, we've heard that before, haven't we, mates?" John received quick agreement from the others. "But that's w'at we've come about," he continued, actually enjoying this game while it lasted. "We've come bearing gifts... ah, get-well-quick gifts, ye might say."
Samuel almost lost a mouthful of rum at this. He was not an unattractive man: he was tall and well built, with sandy blond hair and an incongruent smattering of freckles across a strong nose, well-chiseled cheeks. After managing to swallow and wipe his mouth, he corrected John through his laughter. "Not gifts—bribes! We've come to force ye to choose. Which one of us bastards are ya going to make happy?"
"Very happy," another added.
Carolyn's face reddened with anger. So, the oafs did own the bloody gumption to think that she—Lady Carolyn Knolls—would choose from a pack of barbaric sailors, hardly fit to groom her horse yet alone engage in such grandiose speculation. She couldn't believe it, the idea almost made her laugh.
Though she had led them on a bit...
"Well, gentlemen," she resumed, dismissing those thoughts, "I am not entertaining visitors today. You may leave," and to make certain they understood their position—"Dismissed."
<
br /> This was met with wild hoots of laughter. "Dismissed, is it?" John questioned, a bright sparkle in his eyes. "You might not have noticed but we're on a godforsaken island, my lady," always placing exaggerated emphasis on her title. "Aye, and there ain't nowheres to dismiss us—which means—"
"—ye ain't gonna shake us," another man finished for him.
"Aye, you're stuck," Samuel explained. "You choose one or ye get us all!"
Carolyn refused to condescend an answer. She'd have to speak to their great lord and master about it. The idea of talking to Justin brought a smile and she vigorously renewed brushing her hair, a brush taken from Christina's trunk. If only she had something decent to wear...
Laughter followed the brazen murmurings from the men until finally John called out, "We'll leave 'er 'ighness to stew on that for a bit. Just remember, my lady," and he bowed, "we ain't ole men who are likely to die in their ah, sleep!"
She could hardly bear the laughter that followed the remark. God, she should have kept her mouth shut about that! She had just wanted Justin Phillips to know the old lord never found his way to her bed...
* * * * *
After helping Christina with her line and tossing his into the lagoon, Justin settled back against the cliffs, shifting to take Christina into his arms. "Come here," he said.
Christina looked anxiously about, misinterpreting his intentions. Oh yes, she'd like nothing better than to spend the morning making love but just last night... and then too they weren't exactly alone on the beach. Hanna and Jacob were nearby searching the shallows for shellfish, along with some others. The shadows of the cliffs offered only partial protection.
"Justin," she whispered apprehensively, "I don't think... I mean, we shouldn't—"
"Shouldn't what?" Justin smiled, knowing exactly what she was imagining.
She blushed. "Well, you know..."
"Know what?"
He was making her come out and say the words. "I don't think we should make love again."
"You don't?" He grinned. "Ah, but you are thinking about it a lot, I see."
"Oh no, I wasn't... well, I was but... I—" She grew flustered and he chuckled. "Are you, I mean, were you planning on—"
"Ravishing you?" he interrupted. "I wasn't, but if we keep talking about it much longer, my plans will definitely change. As a matter of fact, it's already getting rather hot and the forest back there looks shaded and cool—"
"No! No!" she said quickly. "I won't mention it again! My lips are sealed."
They laughed and Christina took a seat in his arms. The morning dawned bright and beautiful again. Conversation came easily, easy-shifting and flowing, though each subject became a backdrop for wild flirtations and laughter. Sometimes they could be like two children together and she loved it then—loved him then. Perhaps an hour or so passed and, two fine fish later, Justin was about to make good his earlier threat when they were suddenly interrupted.
"May I speak with you?"
Carolyn Knolls stood several feet away, obviously having overheard much of the intimacies between the two. Christina blushed, partially because of this and partially because of the lady's state of dress—or rather lack thereof. She wore only a cloth binding her breasts and a shockingly short skirt, like... like a harem girl, Christina thought, knowing a harem girl's costume from one of Kafir's songs. And thick blond hair was pulled to one side to fall in lovely mass over a shoulder. Her color and weight gain spoke well of a remarkable recovery.
Carolyn was thinking the same thing about Christina. She was obviously well, nothing but a few fading scars remained. One on her leg looked particularly nasty but, unfortunately, the others hardly detracted from her beauty.
"Alone," she added after a brief glance at Christina.
Christina didn't understand the strange look that crossed Justin's gaze. It was an unconscious look reserved for those times a woman—whether lady or ale whore—sought his attentions without his desire she do so. "Anything you have to say to me might be said in front of Christina."
"I'm afraid not."
"That's all right," Christina said, standing to leave. "I should be off to see Cajun anyway."
Carolyn watched her go, then returned her gaze to Justin, finding herself a recipient of his gaze—was that amusement in his eyes? However he was looking at her, it caused her some brief uncertainty. She paused a bit too long, lowered her gaze, and to her horror, she felt herself blushing.
"Yes?" Justin prodded lazily.
He was standing now, leaning against the cliffs, striking a pose so casually disarming that for the first time in her life, she felt she wasn't in control. "It's about your men," she said, determined to recover.
"My men," he repeated rather than questioned.
"Yes, they're at my doorstep like a pack of hounds. They've even begun threatening me."
Justin was about to say something about the stench of a she-dog in heat, but decided against such tactics. "Well, I understand that," he said instead. "You're an attractive female on an island regrettable short of that very commodity."
"Commodity?" she repeated in a whisper part incredulous, part alarm.
"Yes, commodity." He barely smiled. "Surely I don't have to explain that to a woman such as yourself?"
She was very nearly speechless.
"Just how did my men threaten you?"
"I don't see how it matters," she said.
"I'm interested."
She paused long before explaining. "They said I must choose one of them or... or—"
"Take all of them," Justin finished for her. "I wouldn't call that a threat; I'd call it sound advice."
She looked shocked, then angry. "If you think I'd ever—ever—choose one of those imbeciles... I... I don't believe this!"
"Believe it, my lady. Reality—especially an unpleasant one—has a way of pressing into consciousness, with or without one's belief." And with that, he left.
Having left Justin with Carolyn Knolls, Christina set off down the beach in search of Cajun. The day dawned like a rare summer gift—too easily taken for granted on the island.
The island teemed with life. Noisy birds hopped from branch to branch, tree to tree. Gulls flew against an azure sky. Strange flying fish lifted unexpectedly from the sea to skim a few feet before disappearing as one again. Small sand crabs scurried back with each receding wave.
The sun felt warm on her face, the sand warm on her bare feet. She felt happy and lighthearted, for lately there seemed to be only one Justin present—the one she loved. And this thought brought a smile to her lips.
Until she passed Diego's small cabin.
He was up! Through the large opening of the hut— like a window that looked onto the beach, she caught sight of his dark shape standing up. She had never seen him up and about before and while no one was supposed to care for him besides Justin and Cajun, something, perhaps just curiosity, compelled her to approach to see if there was something she might do for him.
She stood for a long minute in the doorframe unseen. Diego sat on the bed of moss, holding his face in his hands as though in some agony of indecision. His long dark hair and beard had not been cut for several months. His skin looked unnaturally pale and what once must have been a strong physique was now ravished by the mysterious disease. He looked like he had been starved.
"Good day," she ventured softly and added quickly, "I was just passing by and saw that you were up. I wondered if I might bring you something?"
Diego looked up slowly and with no surprise, not speaking for long moments as he considered her. His eyes were dark and clear, but troubled. Troubled oddly by this brief lapse of his pain. Like a convicted criminal waits the noose—he waited for its inevitable return. And the pain was always worse after a lapse, as though its retreat was only to redouble its effort.
But he abruptly smiled at her and she found what many other women had found; Diego's smile affected her like few others.
"I knew you were lovely," he said to himself, drop
ping all pretenses and propriety. "But so young?" He had never thought Justin capable of losing his heart but should he ever have imagined such a thing, he would have thought the woman would be much older and sophisticated, perhaps a widow, someone confident of herself and what would surely be a limited position with Justin.
Christina was a complete surprise.
"Come here," he beckoned. "Set with me for a spell. Tell me the story of how you came to win Justin's heart."
Diego knew the story, of course, knew quite a bit about Christina, but he wanted the chance to discover her for himself. He knew, too, all about her shyness and he witnessed the firsthand evidence of this presently. Christina shifted nervously, lowering her gaze, feeling suddenly timid with his unexpected request for her company. But few men understood women better than Diego, and this understanding gave life to irresistible charm, a charm Diego knew how to use and use well—one had only to count the number of broken hearts left in his trail.
While it took considerable prodding and encouragement on his part, Christina soon found herself opening up to him. They first swapped stories of their background; Diego's relating of his colorful past filled the room with Christina's laughter. She soon felt relaxed and at ease, telling of the auspicious first encounter with Justin, their friendship, the turn of events that eventually marooned all of them on the island.
Having searched most of the island looking for Christina, Justin was passing by Diego's hut when he heard the familiar and much missed sound of Diego's laughter, then Christina's. Well aware of Diego's charm with women and not wanting to break up one of Diego's rare moments of laughter and comfort, he stopped quietly outside the door and for a while contented himself just to listen.
"I cannot describe my surprise, nay—shock upon seeing Justin that first time on the ship. He looked so... so." She laughed. "Well, before he spoke, I couldn't even reconcile the fact that he was one of Justin's men, yet alone him. And I don't know why I imagined him so differently, for I knew of his background, his fighting and all, and I was there when he grabbed the colonel's leg. Somehow, though, I had thought he'd be slight of build—" Diego laughed at this and Justin smiled unseen, "and... and, well, just gentle and—"
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