Gypsy Lady (55 page)

Regarding
his son with dislike, Guy wondered how he had ever sired such a coldblooded,
unfeeling person. Unable to bear the sight of that blank, closed face, he
stomped out of the room.

They
waited tensely throughout the long day. Then, as Jason had predicted, Davalos
sent word. A rider appearing out of nowhere in the deepening dusk and flashing
past the guarded house hurled the message, tied about a stone, through the
window. A volley of shots followed him, but the whole incident happened so
swiftly that the rider galloped away unharmed.

A
tremor shook his long fingers as Jason untied the scrap of paper from the rock.
His voice unemotional, he read aloud, "I have your wife. You may find her in
my keeping, west of the Sabine. I await you at Trader's Clearing."

"When
do you leave?" Guy asked quietly, and blindly Jason looked in his
direction. "At dawn," he said dully. "I would gain little by
departing tonight, and there are things to be seen to first."

The threat of immediate
danger over, the men and their families who had gathered in the big house
slowly returned to their own homes. It was a silent group—even the children for
once were quiet and subdued—and Catherine's fate was foremost in many minds.

A
whiskey in his hand, Jason leaned against one of the massive posts of the
downstairs veranda, staring at nothing, his mind completely blank. As long as
he didn't think of Catherine and what might be happening to her right now, he
could
appear
normal.
And
if he was to get her back safely and himself as well, he had to plan
unemotionally.
He had to think of her as merely something to be
bartered! He didn't dare let fear or the sick dread that lurked in the back of
his mind take hold.

A
sound from the forest made him stiffen and peer through the gathering twilight.
Now clearly he heard the sound of wagon wheels creaking, and a moment later he
stepped down and grasped Blood Drinker's hand. "You're back!" he
stated unnecessarily.

The
Cherokee, searching his drawn face said simply, "It came to me that I
should be here tonight."

No
more words needed between them, silently they watched as the wagons rolled out
of the woods. Jason's own people, drawn by the sound, drifted up from their
homes to greet the new arrivals. Guy came to stand on the bottom step next to
his son, his face pale and set.

Blood
Drinker had leveled a piercing glance at Guy when he joined them, and then his
black-eyed stare had gone to a wagon that was leaving the others as they made
their way to the stables and unloading area. This wagon slowly approached the
house, and Jason cocked an inquiring brow in Blood Drinker's direction.
"Your mother-in-law,"
came
the answer, and
Jason sighed. Poor Rachael! He was forever being the messenger of bad news to
her, and this time he had to make light of the abduction—there was no need to
worry Rachel unduly, if it could be helped.

A
strangled exclamation from his father disrupted his thoughts, and curiously he
cast a look at Guy. Guy, his body braced as if for a blow, was staring unbelievingly
at the small, dark-haired woman being helped down from the wagon by a tall
young man. Jason's gaze swung back to the scene in front of him and his own
body stiffened as he caught sight of Adam St. Clair!

He
had seen him only once, but those hawkish features were burned on his brain
with a white-hot, jealous brand, and angrily he strode forward to meet his
rival. But first there was Rachael to be seen to, and hiding his emotions, he
took her outstretched hands and raised them to his lips. "My dear
Rachael," he said gently, "it gives me great pleasure to welcome you
to my home. I regret I was not able to escort you myself, and I hope the
journey was not too fatiguing."

The enchanting smile that so resembled her daughter's peeped
into being.
"Oh, heaven's no, although it's nothing
like travel in England," she laughed. "Jason, it is
good
to
see you again. I'm so delighted you and Catherine have finally found each
other." Then looking around expectantly, she asked, "But
tell
me. Where is she?"

The
innocent question hung on the air, and Jason's grip on her hands tightened
painfully. A twisted smile on his lips, he said lightly, "It seems I've
misplaced her again."

The
tired, brilliantly blue eyes slowly searched his face.
"Again?"

He
nodded. Angrily aware of the quiet but intense interest of the man standing
only two feet away, he shot a haughty glance in his direction.

Coolly,
Adam returned the hard, green-eyed regard, the sapphire blueness of his own
eyes increasing as silently he met and returned the hostile scrutiny of the
other. Kate had definitely picked a black-tempered rogue for a
husband, that
was for certain!
he
thought, almost amused. And she still hadn't explained everything to her
husband either, he guessed. There was a heavy feeling in the pit of his
stomach. Sighing inwardly, Adam hoped Jason didn't kill him before finding out
the truth. Pity he couldn't tell the man himself.

Adam
needn't have worried, for Jason's gaze suddenly sharpened, and his swung from
one pair of identical blue eyes to the other. His stare leveled at Adam, he
said tightly, "And do I have the honor of meeting Catherine's
brother?"

Rachael,
her thoughts diverted, forced a strained laugh.
"How
silly of me!
Of course, you two haven't met. Adam, as you've guessed,
this is Jason Savage, Catherine's husband."

The
two men shook hands warily, and Jason was torn between the desire to laugh at
the sheer relief that flooded his body and bitter resentment that Catherine had
let him be tortured by thoughts of this man being her lover. The gleam of
sympathetic amusement in Adam's blue eyes decided it for him, and for the first
time that day his smile was natural. Laughingly he admitted, "If you only
knew what that minx of a sister of yours has put me through!"

"Don't
tell me—I can guess. She's always been a willful, troublesome baggage."

Blood
Drinker had watched the meeting carefully and now, satisfied at its outcome,
melted away into the darkness leaving the trio standing there. Rachael's eyes
were misty as she regarded the two tall, handsome young men standing so close
to each other. Adam was within an inch of Jason's height, and his hair was as
black, but being slimmer, he was the rapier to Jason's broadsword. Adam broke
the silence by inquiring, "Did I hear you correctly when you said Kate was
missing—again?"

Jason's
momentary relief fled, and he admitted heavily, "Yes! But don't worry, I
know exactly where she is this time, and I'll have her back very shortly."
That the confident words were said for Rachael's benefit was obvious from the
warning glance that Jason shot at Adam.

Smiling
down at Rachael, Jason said quickly, "What a poor host you must think me,
leaving you standing here! Come inside, and after you've been shown your rooms
and rested a little, we can have refreshments and talk."

Rachael
was indeed tired. It seemed she had been traveling for months, which truthfully
she had. There had been the long trip from England to New Orleans, then from
New Orleans to Natchez, and now from Natchez to this wilderness place. And to
discover that she was still unable to see her daughter was a monstrous disappointment
and a worry—and Jason's calm words did nothing to soothe the growing fear in
her breast. Perhaps once she had rested things would not seem so gloomy, she
thought, bravely hiding her uneasiness. Gently she clasped Jason's proffered
arm and confessed,-"Do you know that lately I have dreamed incessantly of
literally wallowing in a bath and sleeping in a real bed? It will be a novelty to
sleep inside a house after weeks of camping under the stars."

Slowly
they walked up the broad brick steps to the veranda, and Jason ushered Rachael
and Adam inside the house. Guy seemed to have vanished, and it occurred to
Jason to wonder at his father's queer behavior. It wasn't like Guy to rush off
and not wait to be introduced or to extend a welcome. Oh well, he was probably
seeing that the rooms were being readied, and with no feeling of premonition,
Jason saw Rachael safely in the hands of a waiting servant.

Adam
declined to be shown to his rooms, and Jason, recognizing the expression on her
brother's face as one Catherine sometimes wore when she was determined to have'
her say, opened the doors that led to the main salon and offered his
brother-in-law a drink. Waving Adam to a comfortable, cushioned chair, he
poured two whiskies and handed one to Adam. After settling his own long form in
a large lounging chair, Jason asked abruptly, "You want more details,
don't you?"

His
glittering blue eyes never leaving Jason's harshly handsome face, Adam nodded.
And Jason, his voice devoid of any betraying emotion, told him exactly what had
happened.

"My God!"
Adam exclaimed, his blue
eyes blazing with youthful scorn. "Are you going to do nothing?
I
would have followed Davalos
immediately!"

Weary
and impatient, Jason snapped, "Trust me to know my enemy! And for God's
sake take a look out there. It's nearly dark, my friend, and I have little
taste for stumbling into a trap set by Davalos. What good would that do Catherine?
Remember, he knows exactly where I am, but I have no idea where he may be
hiding. I don't even have the satisfaction of knowing he will do as he has
written and meet me at Trader's Clearing. Have you considered the possibility
that his message might have been sent for the sole reason of sending me off on
a wild goose chase? That while I'm riding furiously towards Trader's
Clearing
, he and his men are heading in another direction?
Well, I have, believe me! And before I go haring off after Catherine, I have to
know that they are actually going to Trader's Clearing, and the only way I can
do that is to track them. Something," he spat out angrily, "that I
can't do in the dark. My hands are tied, and at this moment there
is
nothing that I can do except wait for dawn and hope that
Catherine is unharmed. I am as concerned for Catherine's safety as yourself,
and I'm fully aware of what a blow this is to your mother." Bitterly he
mused, "It escapes me how anyone as sweetly tempered and undemanding as
Rachael could have been the mother of two such thoughtless firebrands as you
and especially your sister!"

Deeply
offended by Jason's words and mortified at his own uncalled for outburst, Adam
answered stiffly, "I apologize. I spoke without thinking. It is inexcusable
that I should tell you how to go about your business."

Adam
looked suddenly very young and very proud to Jason, and smiling he asked,
"How old are you?"

Startled,
Adam blurted, "I am turned twenty-two."

Jason's
smile deepened. "At your age and in the same circumstances, I would
probably have said the same thing and worse—more than likely I would have
started a brawl." Raising his drink in a silent toast, he added, "You
are to be commended on your forbearance."

The
doors were suddenly thrown open, and Guy entered, impetuously striding into
the middle of the room. Both younger men, understandably on edge, had leaped to
their feet at the unexpected intrusion, and Guy, preoccupied with his own
private devils, didn't notice Adam standing near the door. His gaze fixed
painfully on Jason, Guy exclaimed, "I must talk to you
immediately!
There is something you must know!"

Jason,
his narrowed regard flashing from Adam's face to Guy's, frowned. And something
that had been nagging at him leaped to the front of his mind. Very quietly and
very slowly, he said, "I think I already know what you have to say."

Blankly,
Guy repeated, "You know what I have to say?"

Nodding,
Jason said in an odd tone, "Father, you must let me introduce you to
Catherine's brother, Adam."

Guy
turned absolutely white, his eyes now frozen on Adam. Puzzled and not a little
uneasy at the strange currents he sensed in the room, Adam murmured politely,
"Perhaps later would be more convenient for such niceties. Your father
obviously wishes to be private with you. We can continue our discussion
later."

Fighting
to recover his lost poise, Guy mechanically extended his hand and in a hollow
voice enunciated painstakingly, "How do you do?"

Adam
felt the tremble in Guy's hand as it closed around his, and the almost
convulsive clasp made him stare at the older man, perplexed. Uncertainly he
smiled and said, "Jason neglected my last name. It's St. Clair."

"I
know," Guy
whispered,
his eyes bright with some indefinable
emotion.

The
connection of the name suddenly hit Jason, and shooting his father a derisive
look, he muttered, "St. Clair! I should have questioned that! Couldn't you
have thought of something better than your mother's maiden name?"

"I
beg your pardon?" Adam asked, clearly at sea.

On
the point of speaking, Jason happened to glance at the opened doorway, and the
words died on his lips. Rachael, her dark brown ringlets newly brushed and waving
gently about her face, stood mesmerized on the threshold of the room, her eyes
on Guy. She had changed her travel-stained gown for one of soft sky-blue with a
white, lacy trim about the neck, but her taut features were much whiter than
the narrow strip of lace encircling her throat.