Redeeming Gabriel (28 page)

She landed on her feet, raising her chin as Diron lifted the lantern and squinted at her.

“Well, if it ain’t my little quinine lady.” The old man shook his head.

“How are you, sir?” she said as politely as if she were still dressed in ball gown and hoops. Gabriel half expected her to curtsy.

Diron scratched his head. “I’m confused. What’re you two up to this time?” He peered at Gabriel, nearly blinding him with the lantern.

“Douse the light, uncle. I need to talk to you.”

Diron’s expression shifted from good-humored curiosity to suspicion. “What have you got yourself into now, boy?” He blew out the lamp, and darkness blanketed the rail car.

Gabriel reached for Camilla’s hand. “Camilla and I are eloping.”

She gave a little squeak, which he silenced by squeezing her hand.

“Her pa coming after her? I don’t want to get on the bad side of Ezekiel Beaumont.”

“As far as I know, he isn’t.” Gabriel forbore to mention the possibility that, before the night was over, they would be followed by half the military command of Mobile. “They won’t miss her until morning. By then we’ll be halfway to South Carolina.”

“You got rocks in your head? You can’t run off with the daughter of one of the richest men in Mobile!”

“Keep your voice down, uncle.”

“Papa isn’t rich.” Camilla’s voice trembled slightly, but Gabriel was glad to hear a bit of her usual pertness assert itself. “And I’m old enough to marry who I want.”

“Then go ahead and marry him, but don’t involve me in your havey-cavey business.” Diron’s voice took on a note of importance. “And your papa may not have been rich before, but this thing right here—it’s made us all a pretty good pile of money tonight.”

“Is that—Is it the torpedo boat?” As Camilla drew closer to Gabriel he could feel her shiver. “I thought it was at the bottom of the river.”

“We raised it. I wasn’t supposed to tell, but since you seen it, there’s no point keeping quiet.”

“Four men died in that thing, uncle. You should’ve left it where it was.”

“Works better than ever now,” Diron said stubbornly. “And it’s faster and tighter than the one those idiots sank in New Orleans.”

Gabriel slid an arm around Camilla. If she fell apart, Uncle Diron might call down the watch. As of yet, he seemed to have no idea of Gabriel’s true mission.

Gabriel should have known his little love was built of sterner stuff than most women.

She took a shuddering breath. “My brother nearly died trying to make this boat operable, Gabriel. We need to help whatever way we can.”

The click of a gun from the vicinity of the doorway made the hair on Gabriel’s arms rise. He turned, reaching for his derringer.

“I wouldn’t advise that, Laniere.” Lieutenant Duvall’s tall figure wavered, a shadow just beyond the open doorway of the rail car. A gun glinted in his hand. He pointed it at Camilla’s head. “Such a fine sentiment, Miss Beaumont. But I wonder how the judge will interpret it in light of your collusion with a known Union spy. Your friend Miss Chambliss has confirmed extremely suspect behavior, including your relationships with Harry Martin and Virgil Byrd.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

D
elia clutched the wagon seat as it rocked over the rutted downtown streets. Harry Martin seemed to mind neither the bone-jarring impact of wooden wheels on hard-baked red clay nor the ominous rumble of thunder overhead. Summer thunderstorms were apt to burst open without a moment’s notice, and—though she was no wilting flower to be overset by damp clothing—delivering their cargo to its destination over flooded streets would be dangerous as well as uncomfortable.

So far the journey from Dauphin to Lipscomb streets had been accomplished with a minimum of fuss. Harry seemed disposed to address her with a mixture of ironic courtesy and genuine masculine admiration—piquing her pride but in no way putting her out of countenance.

She had no doubt, however, that given time she could properly enslave him.

All thoughts of conquest were jolted right out of her head when a peremptory voice rang out, “Halt there! Your pass, if you please!”

Delia tensed as Harry reined in the horses.

A young graycoat officer approached holding a lantern. He yawned and shifted his gun to the opposite shoulder. “Y’all are out late. Where you going?”

“The depot.” Pulling his hat low over his face, Harry reached into his coat pocket. “Here’s my pass.”

Frowning, the sentry scanned the paper. “Looks like General Forney’s signature.” He sent Delia an appreciative look. “Haven’t I seen you before?”

She fluttered her lashes. “Maybe.”

The sentry rewarded her with a smile. “What’s in the wagon?”

“Take a look if you want,” Harry said, sounding bored. “You saw the pass. It’s the general’s commission.”

The sentry turned toward the rear of the wagon. “Run into anybody else on your way?”

Harry shook his head, but Delia caught the odd inflection in the question. “You looking for somebody?”

The young man hesitated. “Deuced odd things going on down at the station tonight. Too much activity for a Sunday morning.” He shrugged. “But who am I to question the general’s orders? Y’all go on. Just be careful. The bottom’s fixing to fall out.”

As if to verify this sage prediction, thunder rolled and a few heavy drops spattered onto Delia’s knitted cap.

Harry flapped the reins, and they were in motion. Moments later the wagon bumped across an intersection of rails, and the depot came into sight. Harry circled the wagon toward the river, stopping on an elevated stretch of ground that was rapidly turning to mud. By now, the rain was coming down in earnest.

Delia peered up at her grim-faced escort. “What now?”

“See that train over there?”

She wiped her face with her hand. “Yeah.”

“We’re going to search every car until we find Camilla and Gabriel.”

Terror strangling her, Camilla stared into the black eye of Duvall’s pistol. Cold sweat dampened the front of her shirt and popped out on her upper lip. She captured thoughts fluttering like frightened birds and offered them in prayer.
Oh, God, the lion’s den. Are You here?

He was. She knew it—and glancing at Gabriel’s tense face, she felt his knowledge, too. The comfort of his solid presence, his oneness of spirit with her, bolstered her courage.

“Miss Beaumont, please put your hands behind your back. Laniere, tie her up.” Duvall detached a rope dangling from his waist and tossed it to Diron. When he hesitated, Duvall gave a small shrug. “Or I will shoot her.”

Camilla’s knees trembled, but she obeyed. Gabriel would not hurt her.

“Uncle?” Gabriel glanced at Diron as he moved behind Camilla to reluctantly wrap the rope around her wrists.

Diron looked away, flapping his hands. “I hoped you wouldn’t come. But, boy, I can’t let you take away everything I’ve worked the past two years for. Why couldn’t you just stay out west where you were happy?”

“Shut up, old man.” Duvall jerked the gun. “You’ll get your money for building your contraption, and I’ll get the reward for running in a couple of spies. You got the other rope?”

“You’re mistaken about the girl,” said Gabriel as his uncle bound his hands tightly behind his back.

Camilla blinked at the cold droop of his eyelids, the almost bored set of his mouth.

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Duvall checked his captives’ bonds, then stepped back satisfied. “I watched every move the two of you made tonight. Who’d think a little flower like her could shinny up a tree and climb through a roof?”

“She was just playing a game to see if she could disobey her papa.” Gabriel sent Camilla a contemptuous look, startling in its intensity. “You think I’d let a silly young woman like her in on what I was doing?”

“I think you’d use a mule and a halfwit if it’d get you the information you were looking for.” Duvall laughed. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you did exactly that on more than one occasion.”

Tears stung Camilla’s eyes. “Gabriel—”

“Oh, come, Camilla.” Gabriel released an irritated sigh. “Surely you didn’t think I was serious about that engagement. Uncle, please tell the overzealous lieutenant I work entirely alone. You can let Miss Beaumont go home. She has no idea what you’re talking about.”

The tears threatened to choke her. He was protecting her, and she loved him for it, but clearly Duvall was having none of Gabriel’s nonsense.

The lieutenant stood feet braced apart, head tilted with interest. “I can see why you’ve been so successful in the past, Laniere. Your activities in New Orleans nearly went unnoticed. But fortunately someone was able to describe you before you slipped away. I’ve been following you for quite some time, determined to prove your identity and stop the leaks undermining our defenses down here.”

Gabriel’s response was a maddening smile. “Pity your efforts have been such a waste of time.”

Duvall scowled. But before he could move, an arm reached out of the darkness and snagged him around the neck. Camilla watched, astonished, as he struggled against a white cloth clamped over his mouth and nose. Within seconds, the lieutenant went limp.

Harry stepped into the light, waving the kerchief in one hand and Duvall’s pistol in the other. He looked over his shoulder. “Miss Matthews, I trust you have the old man covered?”

“You bet I do. Sit down and be quiet, grandpa.” Delia Matthews, clutching a small derringer, sauntered up and met Camilla’s wide-eyed gaze. “Miss Beaumont, I see you were determined to make that train trip after all.”

“It’s about time you two made an appearance,” Gabriel said dryly. “I was beginning to think I’d have to resort to violence.” He glanced at Duvall’s body sprawled in the weeds. “Ether, I assume. How long will he be out?”

“An hour or two. I’ll tie him up in a minute and slide him down in the ditch.” Harry vaulted into the car. “Here, Camilla, turn around. I’ll get your hands.”

After he untied her, she stood rubbing her chafed wrists. “Harry—”

“No time for explanations.” Harry set to work on Gabriel’s bonds. “Here’s the plan. Lady said you’re to take the pass and the wagon—”

Camilla grasped Harry’s arm. “Does she know where I am?”

“I told you, she knows everything.” Gabriel picked up the discarded ropes and efficiently bound his protesting uncle’s hands and feet. He then took Harry’s cloth and gagged poor Diron, who quickly passed out, then fished in the old man’s pockets.

As he straightened, Camilla eyed the roll of papers in his hands. “Are those the plans for the boat?”

“Yes.” He stuffed them into his pocket and climbed on top of the fish boat. “One more thing before we go.” He opened its hatch and disappeared.

Camilla looked at Harry. “What are you and Delia going to do?”

“Stay with the train and get off in Meridian. I’ll make my way back to my regiment, and…” Harry glanced at Delia. “What
do
you have in mind?”

The beautiful actress looked at Harry wide-eyed. “Would you like some company?”

“That would be delightful.” Harry turned a rueful gaze on Camilla. “Clearly you have no intention of honoring our engagement, my dear cousin. I wish you and Gabriel a happy life.”

She blushed, but just then Gabriel reappeared and climbed down from the boat. He patted his pocket with satisfaction. “All right, let’s switch clothes, then we’ll go.”

“Switch clothes?” Camilla grimaced. “Is that necessary?”

Delia shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”

Gabriel and Harry jumped down from the boxcar to exchange clothes in the dark, while the women remained inside. A few moments later, Camilla leaned out. “We’re finished.”

“Good girl. That was fast.” Gabriel, standing in the rain as if he enjoyed it, smiled up at her. He turned to extend a hand to Harry. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Keep Camilla safe.” Harry lowered his voice. “One final order from our little general. The cargo in the wagon is to be used for your travel expenses and the rest delivered to Colonel Birch in Pass Christian. He’ll be expecting it.”

“Birch? Then the Federals have crossed the Mississippi state line?”

“Lady says so.”

Gabriel nodded. “All right, old man. We’re off, then. Godspeed.” He reached up to assist Camilla to the ground. He briefly caressed her cheek before looking up at his former partner. “Goodbye, Delia. You’re a first-class courier. I’ll recommend you to the admiral.”

“Stay out of the dark, cousin.” Delia gave him a cheeky grin and gave Harry a hand up.

“All right, stay low,” Gabriel murmured in Camilla’s ear. “Let’s go.”

In Gabriel’s mind the driving rain was a godsend, since it kept any curious sentries or railroad roustabouts indoors. He and Camilla made it safely to the wagon around 3:00 a.m., then began the nerve-racking journey out of the city. Every so often he glanced at Camilla, knowing it wasn’t just the rain that had her wiping her eyes every few moments. He’d have done anything to assuage the grief that was so obviously tearing her apart. The only thing he could do for her was pray.

As he turned the horses out of the vicinity of the rail station, he also prayed awkwardly for their continued safety. The good Lord had provided them with a means of escape when the situation had been all but hopeless; surely He would protect the two of them the rest of the way.

He was beginning to think the rain had indeed delivered them completely when a hoarse shout gave him pause. He had a choice: bolt or brazen it out.

A glance at Camilla’s white face under her stocking cap made up his mind. “Whoa.” He drew the horses to a halt.

A young sentry sauntered over, collar turned up against the rain. “You folks take care of your business?”

Gabriel could feel Camilla trembling so hard the seat shook. “Yeah.” Brief and to the point. He could mimic Harry’s accent to a point, but he’d rather not push it.

The sentry frowned as Camilla bent double, pressing her hands to her stomach. “What’s the matter, lady?”

“Not feeling well,” she mumbled.

“I’d better get her back to the riverboat. She’s gotta work tomorrow.” Gabriel touched his hat and clicked his tongue to the horses. “Good night, Lieutenant.”