LITMIR.BIZ

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daughter used to hard labor, sturdy to a fault. Diana’s father did nothing except preach and rail at her for everything she did. Her days with him never prepared her for life on this isle.”

      Royce chuckled. “I would think not.”

      Tristan shot him a look.

      He lost his smile. “I’m only saying with the woman going about as they are—not Diana of course. She’s always fully clothed—that is, her gowns are quite nice. They suit her, because she’s English, not—I’m not sure what I meant. James is right. Since time began, woman have birthed with few problems. My mother thrives in England with my two sisters.”

      Diana swore in English then even louder in French, the islander’s language Heath understood.

      Once his goal had been to better himself, learn all he could, and become more than what he’d been born as. Being a lifelong celibate on this isle hadn’t been in his plan. He should plead his case to Tristan and James.

      Tristan scowled at Heath. “What have you to say?”

      “Nothing.” Surely he hadn’t spoken his thoughts aloud. “I’m here to work.” He backed away.

      Tristan gripped his forearm. “What of your mother? How many infants did she have and survive through?”

      “I don’t know. I never saw her.”

      “Because she bloody well died giving you life?” Tristan dug his fingers into Heath.

      Pain shot up his arm. He suppressed a wince. “No. The workhouse beadle told me I wasn’t an orphan like the rest, which annoyed him greatly. My mother left me there because she couldn’t feed herself, much less me. After that, I have no idea what happened to her.”

      James gestured dismissively. “Probably married some willing fellow and had half a dozen more children. Isn’t that right?”

      For Heath to say otherwise might get him killed. Even pirates hunting a prize weren’t as ruthless as a future father worried about his wife and coming child. “I’m certain she had the largest family she could and is with them as we speak.”

      “There you have it.” James smacked Tristan’s shoulder. “You can calm down. To make certain you do, I’ll have Aimee and Netta check on Diana.” He motioned them over.

      They approached gracefully, more a glide than walk, their breasts bouncing with each step. Aimee held her silk bag in front. Netta hid her left hand. Both peeked at Heath.

      His legs weakened, cock stiffened.

      “Bonjour.” James smiled. “Allez-vous verifier sur Diana? Voir comment elle va?” Will you check on Diana? See how she’s doing?

      Diana wailed.

      Tristan covered his eyes.

      “Now.” James shooed them away.

      “Oui.” Aimee grabbed Netta’s wrist and hurried to the birthing room.

      * * * *

      Simone met them at the doorway, her rounded belly leading the way, a leather marriage collar adorned with brightly colored beads about her throat. “What took so long?”

      Aimee frowned and became as outspoken as Netta. “We returned as quickly as we could. The plants you wanted would confuse anyone. They all look the same. Green and more green.”

      “Each color is different.”

      “To you, a healer. Not to Netta and me.” She pushed the bag at Simone. “You should mix a potion for Tristan. He’s darting back and forth like a frightened chicken and is making everyone dizzy. Is Diana all right?”

      Nude, Diana sagged against the whitewashed wall, her once pale skin flushed and slick with sweat. Her long black hair clung to her breasts. Each pant shuddered through her. She gripped Follie’s and Gavra’s hands and screamed, this outburst more deafening than the rest.

      Men’s voices stopped.

      Tristan’s loud oath sounded.

      Children quieted.

      Simone rifled through the bag. “Tell Capitaine his wife is fine. The best potion for a man is ale. Fill him with it so he no longer hears her cries. Where’s the bloodstop?” She dug deeper and made a face. “Did you forget it?”

      Netta stiffened. “No. Look at the bottom. Aimee picked the bloodstop first. I added extra before we found the other plants you wanted. Do you expect Diana to bleed?”

      “All mothers do, but too much will risk her life. Never tell Tristan that.”

      Netta clucked her tongue. “And have him shoot me if I dared mention such a thing? I have no wish to die.”

      Simone waddled to her mixing bowl and cups. Her green cloth matched Royce’s eyes. She told the women she’d prayed to mère de l’homme, the goddess who created this isle, for her unborn child to have Royce’s coloring. “Diana’s infant should be here before sundown. Tell Tristan his wife is as brave and healthy as any islander.”

      Aimee doubted he’d hear those words even if James shouted them. Only Diana’s silence and Tristan’s son’s or daughter’s thin cries would quiet his worry. She took Netta’s hand. “We can tell him together.”

      “No.” Netta pulled away. “You go. I want to wait here.”

      Only because Heath was with Tristan. Nothing Netta said or did could convince Aimee otherwise. They’d been together in their mother’s womb and each second they’d drawn breath. Netta was too ashamed of what a pirate had done to her to let any man close, particularly Heath, whom she desired. She’d rather hide from him forever than risk him spurning her.

      Aimee pressed her mouth to Netta’s ear. “You saw how Heath looks at us. He wants both, not only one.”

      “He looks at you, never me, unless he thinks I might be you. Then he wants me until he sees…” She cleared her throat and kept her voice low. “Go to Tristan then stay with Heath. I can help Simone and the others with Diana.”

      “And leave you without any man to love?”

      “Go.” She shoved her gently. “I need no one. I never will.”

      “Not even me?”

      Netta’s dark eyes filled. She embraced Aimee. Her scent matched the sweet flowers she rubbed on herself. As girls, they played at being young women and perfumed themselves to tempt the boys. Their giggles filled the air, as did their boasts about how they’d each capture the strongest and bravest man’s heart.

      The pirates came and changed everything.

      “Of course I will always need you.” Netta hugged her even harder. “But only when you can take time away from the man who makes you mistress of his house and fills you with his children. Heath’s young and handsome with kindness in his eyes. If he wins your heart, he may let me care for his sons and daughters while you and he take time for your love.”

      “No.” Aimee gripped her. “Never talk that way. Your loneliness would kill me.”

      Netta’s features grew stony. “You see sadness when there is none. I know what my future brings and what I can never have. I accept my fate.”

      She cupped Netta’s chin. “You have to fight for what you want as you did when we were girls. No matter what the pirates did, you and I are the same. If Heath refuses your love, he can never have mine.”

      “Foolish talk.” She pushed Aimee’s hands away. “Never again will I be whole like you.”

      “None of the islanders or the Englishmen cares about that.” She lowered her voice further. “Royce adores Simone despite her scarred leg. Look at Adamo. He can barely see out of one eye. His face is disfigured, his arm limp from the pirates. Zola gladly became his woman because he proved to be a good man. She made him forget Canela’s cruel treatment

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