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sobered. “They want to know about Englishmen, in particular Heath. Why he’s behaving as he is.”

      Good heavens, more problems. First Peter with Laure, then Royce with Simone, now this. “What has Heath done to Aimee? Or did he do something to Netta?”

      “Before I tell you, you must promise not to scream or swoon. I’m not good with women who carry on so.”

      Diana’s irritation doubled. “Poor Peter. We do try your patience, don’t we? Tell you what, I’ll try to keep my head as I did when Vincent threatened to shoot you and me in the longboat. Will that do?” Peter had nearly wept then. She’d been eager to tear Vincent apart and would have if given the chance.

      Peter’s face colored. “I suppose. Heath said Netta and Aimee are both lovely, perfect in every way. He can think of nothing else. He wants them for his own but must never touch them. He plans to leave the isle and live amongst the natives we trade with or work his way back to England. Aimee and Netta don’t understand.”

      Diana didn’t either. “Are you saying he wants two women at once?”

      “Since they look alike, it’s probably like having one to him.”

      “Have you lost all good sense? What he’s proposing is unheard of. In England, he’d probably face arrest. Perhaps hanging.”

      “We’re not in England any longer.”

      He kept reminding her as did other things: bare-breasted women, naked children, and Diana making love with Tristan behind vegetation during previous festivities. The celebrants hadn’t been far away. If that didn’t convince her they were no longer in England, she’d fought off pirates, had her nipples rouged, and had worn a diamond in her navel on her wedding night. Clearly, they were no longer in the civilized world. Even so, one man and two women was unthinkable. “Does their culture allow such a thing?” Tristan didn’t need the island men killing Heath over his randy ways. Perhaps Heath planned to leave to spare everyone the trouble he’d cause. “Does anyone here do that?”

      “I’ll ask.” Peter snickered while doing so.

      During her answer, Netta waved frantically, unmindful of her mutilated hand. A first. Aimee spoke rapidly too. They interrupted and talked over each other.

      Peter gestured for silence.

      They calmed and looked at Diana expectantly.

      She did the same with Peter. “I believe I heard love is love. After that, I couldn’t keep up. What else did they say?”

      “That love is sent to us by mère de l’homme, the greatest goddess of all. She’s the one the islanders believe in. For them not to accept what she offers is a terrible insult. She might not call them home to her loving arms when they die. The priest said the goddess is wrong and what they think she said is actually wicked, made up by depraved men who’ll be damned to hell’s eternal fires for their vile lust. Aimee explained the priest meant well, but they believe the goddess. Nothing you say will change their minds. Netta made a point of that.”

      Diana suspected her father would have run screaming from the isle. He’d taken morality seriously and lived a life of prayer, deprivation, and unending gloom. She preferred the island ways no matter how unconventional. “We certainly can’t tell them to rebuke their goddess. What did they want to know from me? If I approve? I’m afraid I’m too English to give them my blessing. They must do what they think is right for their situation.”

      “I’ll tell them.”

      More discussion followed and grew heated, the words flying too fast to catch or translate. Netta kept pointing at Peter then Diana and the door.

      Thankfully, Merry’s newest crying spell had worn her out and she slept peacefully.

      Peter sighed loudly. “Are you ready for this?”

      “Quit being dramatic and tell me.”

      “Very well. They want to know if all Englishmen act as Heath does. Kissing and loving one moment then running away the next and threatening to leave. They wonder if he’s sick in the head. I believe he is. If two women wanted me, I certainly wouldn’t—”

      “Have you forgotten Laure already?”

      Peter’s cheeks turned pink. They were as smooth as Diana’s. Whiskers had only begun to sprout at the corners of his upper lip.

      He shifted his weight. “I was boasting. Please don’t say anything to Laure. What should I tell Netta and Aimee?”

      “I can’t read Heath’s mind, but I can guess since he’s English he feels what he wants is wrong. He was raised to believe differently than them. Not that either of their upbringings matter. You said he’s departing when he can. Is Tristan all right with that? Do we have anything to worry about from pirates or authorities finding us here?”

      “Tristan wouldn’t let him leave if there’s a problem. Perhaps Heath’s going to forsake England forever and live out his life with the other islanders.”

      She’d have to ask. “If he does go, he’d abandon Netta and Aimee. They could be with child by then. That wouldn’t be right. Please tell them to think carefully about what they intend to do. I don’t want them hurt. Go on.”

      “I hope this is the end of it.”

      “Present your case well and it will be.”

      He spoke longer than Diana expected.

      Aimee and Netta listened without comment, their lovely faces not giving away their thoughts.

      “There. Finished.” He strode to the door.

      Aimee stood. “Votre soeur doit dis àpersonne ce que nous dit. Mȇme pas son homme. Nous voulons sa promesse.”

      Diana couldn’t wait until she knew French fluently, especially the islander dialect. Aimee had spoken so quickly, the words blurred into each other, all incomprehensible. “What did she say?”

      “She doesn’t want you telling anyone what they said.”

      “I don’t like keeping secrets from Tristan, but I won’t betray their trust. Nor will you. Promise me you’ll say nothing to him or the other men.”

      “If you insist.”

      “I do. Go back on your word and risk my wrath. Do tell them their secret is safe with us.”

      He rattled off his comment.

      Aimee nodded.

      Netta shot to her feet. “Demandez votre soeur combien il est facile de changer d’avis de l’anglais.”

      Diana rubbed her forehead. “What now?”

      “She wants to know how easy it is to change an Englishman’s mind.”

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