Love's Vengeance (49 page)

Desiree could see yellowed snags of teeth covered by a thick film of putrid food and her eyes turned from the sight. He rose to his knees before her, reaching for something in the weeds to her left and produced a small pack. She again held her breath as the stench of his body wafted in her direction with the movement. He sat back upon his heels, pulling a flask out of the pack and twisting the top off took a large swig of the contents, part of which dribbled from his chin, adding to the streaks upon his chest.

“Kirwood be me name.” he leered, “Best introduce meself proper. Hey ain’t ye got a tongue in yer head?” He laughed evilly at his joke, taking in the assets of the woman before him with undisguised pleasure. Her hair tossed in wild disarray about her body only served to add to her appeal. His eyes lowered to her breasts and lower still to her slim legs, which were bare. The gown had rode up, exposing well-toned thighs.

Desiree desperately wished she could pull the gown down, seeing where his eyes strayed but with her hands bound as they were, she could do nothing. She did however, pull her legs up close beneath her and when she did so, his eyes came back up to meet hers. He reached out and grabbed the gag from her mouth roughly.

“I said ain’t ye got no tongue bitch?”

Without warning his anger flared and his hand lashed out, catching Desiree’s cheek in a back handed blow.

A groan escaped her lips despite her efforts to remain quiet and her eyes watered, blurring her vision. The jolt caused the trees about her to appear to spin and she heard an echoing chuckle, as he enjoyed his sport.

“Well little leidy, I best be about it and finish me job. I been promised gold for this bit. Must earn me pay.” he decided with calculated coldness.

In a lightening fast move, amazing for his bulk, his paw like hands had Desiree by the ankles, yanking her legs out straight before her. Through the numbing pain in her head from the blow, his intent sunk in with sickening clarity. From her parched throat a scream tore loose, shattering the quiet of the jungle and startling a snow white bird from its perch somewhere above and it headed skyward.

“Damn ye wench, shut yer bleedin’ yap or I’ll shut it for ye permanently!” he rasped, pulling a hand back as if to add another blow to her face. Instead, he grabbed the gag, jamming it back into her mouth and opening a small cut upon her lower lip.

From the side of his waist he pulled out a glinting blade from his belt and chuckled as her eyes flew wide, following the sparkling steel as it approached her. He lunged toward her belly with a flash of metal and Desiree’s breath caught, waiting to feel the blade enter her body but he pulled back and she felt the rope about her waist loosen, falling away in the stubby weeds beside her.

“Rest easy missy, yer not through yet. I be takin’ a ride first.” he assured with a laugh.

He grabbed her ankles once more, yanking viciously and pulling her small form to a prone position. Her arms wrenched as the bound wrists were now above her head. Striking the ground, pain exploded in Desiree’s head at the location the butt of the pistol had found and she felt as though she might lose consciousness, as the trees seemed to loop in sickening circles above her until the renting of her gown brought her back from the beckoning blackness and filled her with horror.

“Lawd almighty!” he whispered, gazing hungrily at the treasure he had just uncovered, “Lawdy!” he repeated. He wetted his thick lips with his tongue, smiling in anticipation. A trickle of saliva ran slowly from the corner of his mouth and he wiped it with the back of his hand before reaching for her breasts.

Desiree cringed, her stomach again churning as he straddled her and continued to roughly fondle her breasts. His hands moved over her body, down her belly to her hips and then he roughly attempted to wedge his leg between hers to open her thighs. Although the gag stopped the sound, Desiree opened her mouth and tried to scream as her leg jammed upward, catching him in the groin. He plunged forward, rolling to the ground beside her with a curse, clutching his injured crotch. He staggered to his knees and pulled the glinting dagger again from his waist.

Death shown in the snarling face but Desiree glared unflinching into his reddened watery eyes. The horror that this loathsome animal meant to have his way with her thrust through her to her very core and she welcomed the quick end the blade offered.

“Ye bitch! Yer time be up!” he sneered, hunching over her. As Desiree struggled valiantly, thrashing violently to try and thwart him, he straddled her hips and she froze as the steel of the knife ran the length of her body from throat to belly, ever so gently, “Where to begin.” he chuckled, touching the point of the knife to his jaw as he pondered.

Suddenly there was the briefest flash of movement and the lecherous man lifted from her with the force of a boot, catching him beneath the chin. He sprawled across the ground and scrambled to his feet, looking desperately for the blade. It glinted in the grass to his left and he dove, rolling upon his shoulder and coming up with it in his hand. Holding it clenched tightly before him, he crouched low, facing his foe.

Stephen was upon him with a ragged growl and Kirwood struck out with the gleaming blade, aiming for the lean waist. Stephen sidestepped the jab and the man stumbled forward with the momentum of the thrust, slashing thin air. Stephen grasped the wrist and pulled the arm up in the space between them. Their eyes locked and a match of strengths unfolded, arms trembling in an attempt to gain control.

Desiree drug her eyes from the two men briefly, half turning to grab the tree which she was still bound to and with her forehead against the rough bark, she drew herself up, pushing to her knees and finally coming to stand. Dazed, Desiree reeled back against the tree, closing her eyes for a moment until her vision cleared. When she was able to see again, she noted the knife was slowly turning and with wide eyes, the man Kirwood, watched the glinting steel move ever closer to his own throat, as bared white teeth flashed in a snarl and now deep brown eyes promised death. Tendon stood out as Stephen steadily pressed the blade to its mark. Terror showed on the man’s face and the knife dropped to the ground as his free hand came up with a blow to Stephen’s midsection, doubling Stephen forward with the impact. Stephen surged forward, catching Kirwood in the paunch and the two crashed to the ground in a blur of thrashing limbs.

Desiree watched numbly as slowly a victor emerged. Straddling Kirwood, Stephen rained a shower of blows upon the man beneath him. Kirwood fought to deliver returning blows but could not make his mark and blood began to mar the already hideous face as Stephen attempted to turn it to pulp. Desiree watched without emotion as her tormentor was brought ever closer to death’s door with each successive impact of Stephen’s fists. Kirwood's flailing arms fell limply to the grass and the curses he had sputtered now became hoarse moans. The clearing was silent but for the sound of fist against flesh and then through the underbrush stormed, first Ham and Timothy, followed by Michael Colter and a host of seaman.

Ham was the first across the clearing to Stephen’s side and he clasp Stephen about the chest from behind in a bear hug, pulling him off the semiconscious man, “Easy Stephen, easy.” he said gently, waiting for his rigid body to relax and sanity to return to his young captain.

When Stephen nodded slightly, Ham released him and Stephen hauled the man to his feet by a fist full of shirt and shoved him at two of his waiting men, “Get this bastard out of here.” He ordered and then turned his attention to Desiree, as all eyes seemed to turn at the same time to the slight trembling form beside the palm tree.

With her hands bound as they were, Desiree could do nothing but press herself against the rough bark of the tree to shield her exposed body from the many eyes before her. With her own eyes tightly closed, she turned her face away.

Stephen gestured to the men. Dragging their prisoner along, Ham rushed all out of the clearing toward the trees and town beyond. Michael Colter looked to his sons and then he too, headed into the jungle, leaving Desiree to their care.

Timothy approached Desiree first while Stephen hung back a bit, knowing that at this moment his younger brother was closer to her than he had been in weeks.

“Desiree?” Tim questioned gently stroking her back and she turned her face in his direction.

The bluish bruise wickedly marring the delicate boning of her cheek sent white hot rage through Stephen and he came forward, loosing the ropes that bound her wrists, heaving the offensive restraint into the jungle, while Tim carefully removed the cloth from her mouth and sailed it away. Tim smoothed her hair from her face and she sobbed with relief, turning from the tree and pulling her open dress about her as best she could. She leaned back against the tree for support, looking from one pair of concerned eyes to the other.

“Did the bastard touch you?” Tim gritted, taking in her rent gown.

Desiree shook her head emphatically, “No but it was so horrible!” she sobbed, accepting Stephen’s shoulder and burying her face against him.

Tim removed his suit coat and with gentle urging helped Desiree into it. The garment hung well past her loins, lending modesty to her state of undress and she glanced up at Stephen as he completed the last fastener.

“Thank you Stephen,” she whispered brokenly, “You saved my life…” but then she paused and stiffened, moving back from him as if burned by his touch. Her eyes filled with pain as she remembered the accusations he had made that had driven her away from the party and into Kirwood’s clutches. She looked at the discolored skin beneath his eye and saw that Tim sported the same affliction, coupled with a wicked cut across his upper lip.

“Tell him Tim! Tell him nothing passed between us!” she said, stepping back a pace away from the two of them. Stephen regarded her with concern and she stepped back another pace and cried, “Nothing happened!”

“I know.” Stephen assured softly, approaching her but she held up her hand halting him.

“Your own brother!” she spat, “
Mon Dieu
what do you think me?”

As she spoke, Stephen began to weave before her eyes. He was speaking but she could not hear the words over the sound as though water was rushing, echoing in her ears. She felt her knees buckling beneath her and the two men grew hazy and darkness closed in around her.

Stephen scooped Desiree into his arms as she started to fall, cradling her against his chest. Tim pulled the coat close about her body and they hurried through the jungle toward home.

***

Desiree fought her way from unconsciousness hearing Bridgett’s voice, frantic and sobbing. She tried to open her eyes and reassure her but the front hall of the Colter’s home spun before her and she had to close her eyes once more, covering them with a hand.

“Bridgett I am fine.” she whispered as she felt strong arms carrying her up the staircase.

Bridgett touched Desiree’s cheek and then rushed ahead of Stephen opening doors for him as he carried her through the sitting room to her bedroom. Bridgett pulled back the covers and Stephen lay Desiree down gently, placing her head upon a mountain of pillows. Desiree moaned softly as her battered and bruised body was released and she looked up to find Stephen’s face above her.

He stepped back and Bridgett moved beside her, pressing a cool cloth to her brow, “Desiree we were so worried.” she sobbed, gently using another cloth to remove dried blood from her lip and then laying the cloth against Desiree’s cheek and the puffy blue bruise there.

Desiree looked from Bridgett, to Tim at the foot of the bed, to Stephen behind Bridgett and she covered her face with her hands, sobbing in relief and in terror as the images still filled her mind. “Bridgett he—he was going to kill me.” She sobbed and her voice sounded strange in her own ears. She was close to hysteria and as she lowered her hands from her face and looked at the expressions of those in the room, she could see that they heard it also.

“Shhh…” Stephen said gently, kneeling beside the bed, “Don’t think about it. It’s over now.”

“No! No it is never going to be over!” Desiree shouted, “It goes on and on, when will I ever be safe?”

Stephen looked up at Tim and then to the door where his parents stood silently watching.

“Desiree we will leave you to Bridgett’s care now and talk later.” he decided, fearing his words would only inflame her further, he squeezed her hand and ushered his family from her room.

Bridgett’s tears had subsided when Desiree’s had begun, her concern for Desiree’s state of mind putting her own fears in proper perspective. Bridgett brought a gown to the bed and helped Desiree to sit, slipping Tim’s coat off and then the shredded dress. She pulled the nightgown down over her head and stuck her arms through the sleeves while Desiree sobbed weakly. Desiree’s arms were limp and uncooperative. She was seemingly unaware that she was being dressed.

“Desiree you are in shock love, you will feel better after some rest.” Bridgett soothed over Desiree’s sobs. She poured a glass of water from the pitcher at the night stand and offered it. Desiree first sipped and then gulped at the cool liquid and lie back as Bridgett replaced the cloth against her cheek. Desiree grabbed her hand in a desperate hold and Bridgett sat down beside her, patting her grasping hand reassuringly.

“Bridgett” Desiree croaked, “I—I want to go home—please? Let’s go home.”

Bridgett made no comment and Desiree continued frantically, “I can’t stand to be here any longer! I have to go—I must. Please! Make the arrangements! Let’s go right away! I—I want to see France…my friends. Oh I want to go home!” she sobbed as if a small child unable to find her way.

Bridgett knew only too well the pain Desiree had suffered since their arrival here and before, ever since they had left France six months ago. She had endured so much.

“It could be dangerous.” She reminded softly.

Desiree laughed hysterically, “I don’t care! I want to go! I want the people I love about me—I want Rene’ and Antoine…please Bridgett?”

“And what of Stephen Colter?” Bridgett whispered.