Mariah's Prize (29 page)

She bowed her head, her wonder and joy for once stealing away all her desire to argue with him. He loved her, small, serious Mariah West.

“He loved her.

In the distance she heard a man’s laughter, and her head jerked up. No amount of love would help if Deveaux caught them again. She steadied him as best she could, and haltingly they made their way toward the door.

Gabriel stopped at the sight of the two dead men and the two others tumbled in the shrubbery and whistled hoarsely under his breath. Yet again there was no sign of Rawlin or the others.

Had Deveaux’s beatings addled his wits?

Mariah saw the question on his face.

“It’s too much to explain now.

The two over there, the Englishmen, are only asleep, and I don’t want to be here when they wake. “

Gabriel grunted. She’d explain, all right.

“Deveaux runs his guards on land on watches, same as at sea.” He glanced at the moon, slipping in and out of the clouds as it dropped lower in the sky. “Likely we have another hour before this lot’s relieved. Fetch me two of their pistols, a knife and a sword. We’ll need them more than they will. Go on, lass, they’re all past caring now!”

Unwilling as she was to touch the corpses again, Mariah did as he asked, helping Gabriel fasten the buckle on Figaroa’s bloodstained sword belt around his waist. He checked the pistols critically and hooked them onto the rings on the belt himself, determined to show her he wasn’t as helpless as he seemed, but Mariah saw how badly his hands shook and the way he swayed on his legs as if a strong breeze could topple him over. Even after this small exertion he was forced to lean against the wall and rest. There was no way he’d ever hold his own in a fight, nor would he be able to row Figaroa’s boat to the Revenge.

“At least the blasted cove is at the bottom of the hill,” he finally said when he could speak without gasping.

“In this heat, I’d never reach it otherwise.”

Her face taut with concern, Mariah smoothed Gabriel’s hair from his forehead, doubting that he’d reach the cove uphill or down. His skin was clammy and feverish, his eyes too bright. “Where the devil are Rawlin and Welsh and the others, anyway?” he was saying.

“Can’t they heed orders any simpleton could follow? If we want to be away in the boats before dawn, they should have already begun to set the fires. And to leave you here on your own, poppet—they’ll answer for that, the lazy dogs.”

Mariah stared at him, wondering if he’d turned delirious.

“What are you talking about, Gabriel? I told you, I’m alone. The man I came with, Mr. Figaroa, is over there, dead. I haven’t seen Mr. Rawlin or Elisha or” -She stopped abruptly, suddenly realizing what had happened. The men she’d heard in the other cells had been from the Revenge, and in her concern over Gabriel she’d left them behind. She grabbed the ring of keys and kissed Gabriel quickly on the forehead.

“Wait for me here, love,” she said quickly, not wanting to take the time to confess what she’d done. If she didn’t go back for the others, Deveaux would take out all his anger on them, and she’d never be able to face her sister knowing she’d abandoned Elisha to that. She hated leaving Gabriel again, but with the two guns he’d be as safe here as anywhere on the island, and with the help from the others maybe she’d be able to get him to the boat.

“I’ll be back in a few moments.”

“Mariah, what the hell are you up to?” He grabbed for her, but she’d already run out of his reach.

“Mariah, come back here!”

“I will, I swear!” she promised. Instead of the anger she’d expected to find on his face there was only a Gabriel she’d never thought she’d see—sick and lost and despairing, and she very nearly returned to his side. She turned and ran as fast as she could to the other cells, her short skirts flying around her bare legs.

She pounded on the second locked door.

“Mr. Rawlin! It’s Mariah West!

Are you in there? “

She heard the scuffling of men hurrying to their feet and murmurs of disbelief, then Rawlin’s unmistakable voice.

“Aye, miss, we all be ‘ere, save th’ cap’n.”

“He’s already outside, cursing you all for lazy dogs.” She quickly unlocked the door and Rawlin was the first out, beaming with joy as the others swarmed around them.

“Bless ye. Miss West, for being’ a very angel!” he said warmly.

“I

won’t even ask how ye come t’be here, I’m that happy t’see ye. Three days that devil-faced bastard gave us to turn coats against our king an’ cap’n an’ sign wit’ him, else he’d make us dance from th’ yardarm, an’ tomorrow would be our last day. “

“Mariah!” Elisha sized her in a wild, sudden hug that almost knocked her off her feet.

“Where’s Jenny? Is she with you? Is she well? I swear if that Frenchman touched her” — “She’s fine, Elisha, and waiting for you on the Revenge.” She squeezed his hand affectionately, glad she’d have him soon for a brother-in-law.

“But we must go now. Hurry!”

Though none of them dared say so, Mariah knew as soon as she led them to Gabriel that his men were as shocked by his appearance as she’d been. But before them he’d managed to pull himself upright, his hoarse voice somehow as commanding as ever, and stem with disapproval, at that.

“I haven’t the time to read you shiftless culls the sermon you deserve,” he said, his unblackened eye studying them each in turn.

“But rest assured you’ll hear it soon as we get back on board. Did they let you keep your flints?”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n, they did at that,” answered Rawlin promptly.

“Wit’ th’ tobacco an’ pipes, too.”

Gabriel grunted. “Very well. Then try and redeem your worthless hides by following some part of my orders. We’ll meet at the boats.”

In spite of himself, his expression softened. Displeased though he was, he still liked his men, and there’d been times this day when he wondered if he’d ever stand before them again. “Watch your tails, and may God preserve your souls.”

At once they scattered, running off into the night, and Gabriel allowed himself to slump wearily against Mariah.

“Come, poppet, it’s time we fled our own selves. I don’t want you near when the flames find Deveaux’s powder.”

-“Barnes?”

“Aye, flames, love,” said Gabriel with satisfaction as they walked slowly.

“Before they’re done, I hope they’ll bum every last wall of this place to the ground, and teach monsieur Ie Capitalize the folly of meddling with Englishmen.”

Looking over her shoulder, Mariah could just make out the shadow of one of the men clambering up one of the tall palm trees beside the house. As the tree swayed beneath his weight, the man tugged away a handful of the dried, dead fronds from the underside and bound them loosely together. There was a brief flash as he drew a spark from his flint, then a brighter one as the dried fronds ignited. Gently he waved the bundle to fan the spark to flame, and when he was sure it had taken, he tossed it across to the roof of the house.

For a long moment the little fire sat there like some misplaced illumination until suddenly the shingles beneath it caught, the yellow flames spreading along the roof as the man shimmied down the palm’s trunk. In two other places Mariah could see fires on the roof, one already licking at a gabled dormer, and farther away, near the gardens, one of the outbuildings burst into flame. At last came a cry of alarm in French, too late to save the roof, and Mariah turned toward the forest before them.

Even on the dark, overgrown path to the beach, the fire glowed bright enough to light their way. The roar of the flames was audible now, the

brittle little pops as the grow e ing heat burst each window and the frantic, garbled shouts of the men trying vainly to combat the fire. Finally came the explosion that Gabriel had predicted when the fire found the powder magazine, a thick, rolling, percussive blast that Mariah felt as well as heard, and a flash that lit the sky bright as day. She was certain by dawn there’d be little left of the plantation but charred timbers and smoking shadows of stone walls.

But Gabriel didn’t notice any of it. His last reserve of energy had been spent before the crew and leaving the house, and now as he tried to keep walking his feet seemed to belong to someone else, stumbling and faltering beyond his control. His lungs felt so tight in his chest that the effort to breathe made him dizzy, and he felt oddly hot and cold at the same time.

Only a little farther, he told himself. The beach and the boat and then his own bunk on the Revenge were only a little farther. The pillows would be soft, so soft, and Mariah would be there beside him for him to hold in his arms, warm and sweet as meadow grass. His pretty poppet. She loved him, and he loved her, oh, so much. He’d never let her go again, even while he slept. Sleep. Lord, he wanted to sleep for a fortnight.

Mariah struggled to support Gabriel, her strength nearly gone. They would never reach the boat, but they were nearly to Figaroa’s little house. They’d be safe there for tonight, and tomorrow, and when they’d both rested, they’d find their way to the beach.

By the time she helped Gabriel to Figaroa’s bed, he was nearly unconscious, and the sleep that overcame him was so deep she had to tug his long limbs onto the mattress. Exhausted though she was, she still took the time to clean the swollen, angry wounds across his back as

best she could. She had no dressings, no bandages, only a half 7

empty jug of rum and one of Figaroa’s old shirts. It was Gabriel’s fever that terrified her most. If the infection took hold when he was this weak, he would die.

The sky had paled with dawn by the time she was done, the morning air thick with the smell of smoke and tiny, drifting bits of ash from the fire they’d left behind. Carefully Mariah climbed on the bed beside Gabriel, pulling the worn coverlet over them both. He stirred slightly in his sleep, murmuring her name. Although she longed to put her arms around him, she didn’t want to hurt him more, and she contented herself with threading her fingers through his, lying as near to him as she dared.

It wasn’t supposed to have ended like this. She had done everything she could for him, but it wasn’t going to be enough. She was going to lose him again, this time forever, before she’d really gotten him back. Even though he’d told her he loved her, she hadn’t had the chance to tell him about their child, and now it was too late.

Too late. With a dry, smothered sob she closed her eyes. She was too tired to cry again, but her heart still felt the pain of her love and her fear.

She had never before in her life felt so completely helpless.

When Gabriel woke, the sunlight from the window was warm on his face, but at last his skin was cool. From the angle of the sun he guessed it was late morning, and the trees outside the window were alive with tiny yellow birds darting among red flowers. He let himself wake slowly, relishing the drowsy sense of well-being. Though his body still ached enough that he was reluctant to move, the intense pain and the fever were finally gone, and he realized that the swelling over his eye had diminished enough that he was able to see again with both eyes.

How long had he been lying here? From the growth of beard on his face, he must have been sick at least a week. He remembered the fire, and coming through the trees to this place, and then the memories broke into fragments, Marian bending over him to lay a cool cloth on his forehead, Mariah leaning wearily at the open window, Mariah propping him up with her arm to tip water into his lips, Mariah kneeling on the floor beside his pillow, her face so close to his that her tears had fallen on his cheek. So where was Mariah now?

With a groan he pushed himself up on his elbows and called her name.

He didn’t recognize this one-room house at all. Why hadn’t he seen its owner as well as Mariah? The cold fireplace, a few crockery dishes, a musket leaning in the corner, a clumsily carved crucifix on the wall—none of these offered any clues, but he caught his breath when he saw the bright blue coat with the brass buttons that hung from the peg near the door, the bright blue that Deveaux preferred for himself and for his officers on the Chasseur. He called Mariah’s name again, this time more urgently.

And then she sighed and stirred in her sleep beside him on the bed, and he felt like the greatest fool in the world. He rolled over carefully, trying not to wake her. His Mariah, his pretty poppet. He smiled, and felt his love for her warm him more than the sunshine. She slept deeply, like a child, curled on her side with one hand folded beneath her chin and her dark hair tumbled on the pillows. But he was disturbed by how exhausted she looked, how the translucent skin beneath her eyes was shadowed with weariness. His smile faded. She must have tended him by herself, just as alone she’d nearly had to drag him here from Deveaux’s house. Or was this Deveaux’s house, too?

Slowly he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat upright, pausing to gauge his strength. Beside the bed was a small bucket of water with a dipper, and he drank gratefully. He was light-headed from hunger and the healing skin on his back felt tight, but otherwise he was well enough, and he needed to know who that blue coat and musket belonged to.

“Gabriel?” Her voice was thick with sleep, rapidly sharpening as soon as she realized he’d left the bed.

“Gabriel, come back, you shouldn’t be up just yet!”

Grimly he held the coat and the musket out to her. “This belongs to one of Deveaux’s men, and I’d wager this is his house. Where is he, Mariah? Damnation, did they take us again?”

“We’re free, Gabriel, as safe as we can be on a French island.” She sat up, shoving her hair from her face.

“If they haven’t found us in all this time, they never will. The man who owned this house is the one who helped me find you, and he’s dead. I told you, we’re free.”

She began to laugh, oddly giddy, and pressed her spread fingers over her mouth as if to stifle the sound.

“You’re well, Gabriel. You’re standing there glowering at me with a gun in your hand and not a stitch to cover your nakedness. You’re going to live, aren’t you?”

“You’d best damned well believe I will,” he growled. With her head tipped back to laugh, the sunlight streaming around her, she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Life with her in it seemed very fine, indeed. He smiled, then chuckled, then laughed outright with her. He dropped the musket and the coat and climbed onto the bed beside her.