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Authors: Connie Mason

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Western

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BOOK: Tender Fury
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“Ah, a signal from the beach,” he said, cupping his ear to the sound. “Our guests are coming.” Then he turned to the ladies. “I ask only that you look lovely and be gracious to His Majesty’s emissaries.” His black eyes twinkled mischievously.

Gabby heard the tramp of boots upon the veranda steps then saw a group of three rather staid navy officers, resplendent in blue uniforms enter behind one of Jean’s lieutenants. Marie stood poised by Lafitte’s side as if she were gentry instead of mistress to a notorious pirate.

The first Englishman to enter the room immediately introduced himself. Bowing stiffly, he said, “Mister Lafitte, I am Captain Richard Tremaine, His Britannic Majesty’s navy. My aide,” motioning to a young man behind him, “Lieutenant John Lockly; and Captain William Johns of the army. Also in our party is a royal envoy, Mr… ah… Smythe. But he was struck by a fever and unable to accompany us ashore. I have come to present you with a missive from our commander, and Mr. Smythe has entrusted us with a document direct from the British government.”

Then Captain Tremaine held out two separate oilskin wrapped packets, Lafitte accepted both but tossed them carelessly upon the table without bothering to break the seals. “On Barataria hospitality always comes before business. And Jean Lafitte never puts business before pleasure. Please be seated, gentlemen; but first allow me to introduce to you my two lovely ladies. My hostess and my guest.” Then he in turn introduced Marie and Gabby.

Gabby could sense the Englishmen’s curiosity about her. Did they assume that both she and Marie were Jean’s mistresses? Both girls exchanged mischievous smiles for they knew they were confusing the British by their presence. One beautiful mistress was understandable… but two?

Not until the last dish was cleared from the table did Jean pick up the packets that had lain there through the meal, break open the seal, and read each with deliberate thoroughness. His face was expressionless and completely unreadable. Gabby was beside herself with suspense. Would Jean banish her and Marie from the room before he broached the business at hand? It was clear they expected him to do just that.

But Jean surprised everyone by immediately addressing the English without first dismissing the ladies. “It seems, Captain Tremaine, that both your commander and your government suddenly hold me in high regard. So highly that I am offered a captaincy in the Royal Navy for my cooperation.” He spread out his hands beseechingly. “But why, Captain? What need have you of a smuggler and pirate?”

Captain Tremaine cleared his throat nervously. “As you know, control of the Baratarian Straits is crucial if we are to capture New Orleans. They offer an important approach to that city. Your cooperation will insure our success.”

Then Jean shocked the captain into silence when he handed the documents to Marie. “What do you think,
cherie?”
he asked carelessly. “Should we allow the British ships into Barataria?”

Marie quickly scanned both documents. “Thirty thousand dollars is a lot of money, Jean,” she acknowledged, “but a mere pittance compared to the profits from your lucrative business in New Orleans with the Americans. The treasures you relieve the dons of now decorate the finest homes in New Orleans.”

“But remember the captaincy, Mr. Lafitte. You will be a respected member of the Royal Navy. No longer will you be a feared pirate.”

Jean tilted his head back and roared uproariously. “If you do not believe I am respected, ask any citizen of New Orleans about me. They will tell you that I am not only respected but revered.”

“Then you do not accept our offer?” asked Captain Tremaine stiffly.

“I did not say that,” Lafitte answered smoothly.

Gabby’s heart sank. Surely Lafitte would not join the English? But it sounded as if he was considering the offer. Her face was so serious that Marie nudged her under the table and whispered that she should not worry, Jean knew what he was doing.

“I will consider your country’s offer, Captain Tremaine,” Jean said expansively. “Where might I contact you when I decide?”

“You cannot contact me directly but the envoy I spoke of earlier will be in New Orleans. He has a house at number thirty Rue Dumaine and you can send word of your decision there.”

Shortly after that the Englishmen rowed back to their ship. Nothing more was said about them, or the documents that still lay on the table.


Merci,
Gabby,” Jean said, using her first name, “for gracing our table with your beauty and charm.” Then he turned serious. “Marie explained to me why you do not wish to return to your husband and I am in total agreement. You may remain as our guest for as long as you like. Now that you are fully recovered from your ordeal at sea you may feel free to explore our little island. Go wherever you like. No one here will harm you.”


Merci,
Captain Lafitte,” Gabby said gratefully. “I will stay only until I am certain my husband is no longer in New Orleans. Then I shall make arrangements for my future.”

The next morning the English ships were gone, only Lafitte’s fleet rode at anchor in the bay. After breakfast Marie took Gabby on a tour of her lover’s great house. It sprawled, but not without design, for Lafitte had planned it for comfort and entertaining. It was magnificent, surrounded by a long veranda that shaded against the summer sun and protected against winter winds. Heavy wooden shutters could be swung to protect its screened windows.

Opulence was the key; its richness a bit overdone with silver, tapestries, ornate furniture, gold statues, and priceless carpets. The kitchen contained every food imaginable and the cool wine cellar dug beneath the house contained brandy and wine from dozens of countries.

Sometimes alone but mostly accompanied by Marie, Gabby explored Barataria. The island itself was well fortified, although some of the battlements had been destroyed earlier by American Navy ships. She learned that there was a strict code of honor governing the people who lived there. Women had as much right as men. Although they were every hue from white to the darkest ebony, they were free to bed or wed whomever they chose. The white sand beach surrounding low hills were scattered haphazardly with shacks, overturned ships’ gigs, and long racks for drying meats and fish.

Most of the smugglers were rough men who looked and acted like the pirates they were. Although many of them eyed her covetously, none dared approach her, especially while in Marie’s company. Some of the women envied her position and she could feel their animosity directed toward her as she strode about the island.

Gabby learned from Marie that Lafitee was putting off the English while sending urgent letters to Governor Claiborne and General Jackson. Of late he was so preoccupied that he barely noticed her presence and more and more of his men began ogling her openly. She knew her time on Barataria must end soon.

One day, nearly a month after the English had come, Marie told her they would again have important guests for dinner that night. “Americans, this time,” Marie said. “Representatives of General Jackson himself. Maybe now they will believe Jean and accept his help.”

“Has he refused the British offer?” Gabby asked.

“Mon dieu!” Marie exclaimed. “He never even considered it. Besides the thirty thousand dollars and the captaincy they offered, the British wanted Jean’s pledge that he would not attack any Spanish ships. The second document from the Royal Navy carried a direct threat; help fight the Americans or Barataria would be destroyed by English ships. Jean was so angry it was all he could do to keep from throwing them off of Barataria.”

“Do you think they will attack if Jean sides with the Americans?” Gabby asked.

“It is a worry, for even now the English wait out there somewhere,” she said pointing beyond the bay. “But a bigger problem right now is that Jean’s men are still imprisoned in New Orleans and the Governor doesn’t even answer Jean’s letters. He is under a terrible strain. That is why he went directly to General Jackson. He was getting nowhere with Governor Claiborne and time is growing short.”

“Then General Jackson must consider his offer to help a serious one or he would not send his men to deal with Jean.”

“That’s what Jean hopes,” sighed Marie thoughtfully. “Jean may be a Frenchman, but above all he is a Louisianian and an American.”

Both women had taken great care with their appearance that evening. Gabby’s long, silvery locks and violet eyes were set off perfectly by a dress of tawny silk. Her creamy shoulders and tops of her breasts rose majestically above the deep décolletage. Marie’s dark beauty was enhanced by the green satin that molded her firm, young body like a second skin. Jean’s black eyes shone appreciatively as he introduced them to the two young men who had already arrived and were in deep discussion with him. They spoke in English, as had the British officers, a language Gabby had learned to speak fluently in the convent. Jean used only her first name when she was introduced because she had asked him not to divulge her last name in the event that these men might be acquainted with Philippe.

The older of the two men. Captain Robert Stone, seemed unable to tear his eyes from Gabby from the moment they were introduced. The younger man, Lieutenant Peter Gray, eyed her speculatively but was friendly enough with his greeting. Upon hearing her name, a glance passed between both men, causing a chill of apprehension to run down her spine.

As the meal progressed, Gabby became more and more uncomfortable as Captain Stone’s vivid blue eyes continued to devour her. Even Marie noticed his preoccupation with Gabby and arched her delicate eyebrows when she caught Gabby’s glance. Gabby studied the captain through lowered lids while Jean had momentarily captured his full attention. His face seemed so boyish and open compared to Philippe’s brooding countenance. He was nearly as tall and rugged with a magnificent physique but there the comparison ended. His unruly blond hair had a way of falling into his guileless eyes whenever he moved his head in a certain way. His wide, boyish grin was completely disarming and Gabby blushed profusely whenever it was directed at her, which was quite often. In no way was he threatening, his eyes gentle. Try as she might, she could not picture him as a soldier for he hadn’t the looks of a killer.

Lieutenant Gray, though younger, appeared older. His gray eyes reminded her of Philippe’s and their flinty barrier she could never penetrate. He appeared wise beyond his years and instinctively she knew he would encounter no difficulty killing. Gabby shivered whenever his gaze fell on her. He looked on her not as a desirable woman but as a marketable commodity. He made her extremely nervous and she was glad when the meal ended and Jean took the men into his study to discuss business over brandy and cigars. A courtesy he did not extend to the English. Gabby did not linger to talk with Marie, but went directly to her own room.

Once alone, Gabby brooded for what seemed like hours over the look the Americans exchanged when she had been introduced to them and the speculative gleam in Lieutenant Gray’s eyes. What did it mean? Questions ran haphazardly through her mind. Was Philippe still in New Orleans after all this time and did he believe her still alive despite finding no trace of her? During her endless pacing she could not help but glance out the windows to the bay; the sparkling water, the shimmering moonlight, the softly scented breeze mysteriously beckoning her. Pulling a robe over her nightclothes she quietly let herself out of the house and descended the veranda steps. All was still and Gabby knew Jean and the Americans must have long since concluded their business and gone to bed. The oyster shell path crunched under her slippered feet as she headed toward the white sand beaches. She passed a sentry but he did not stop her. She recognized him as one of the men who had a wife and family on Barataria.

Finally she stood just beyond a line of palm trees along the perimeter of the beach. The moon was high and each ship anchored in the bay was clearly outlined. It was an impressive sight, one Gabby would long remember. Almost at the same time she heard the crunch of a footfall behind her and a voice saying, “A beautiful sight, Mademoiselle Gabrielle.” Gabby started violently but the softly drawled words fell pleasantly on her ears setting her immediately at ease. She much preferred these Americans’ English to the harsh, clipped tones of the British. And for some reason she did not fear Captain Stone’s presence.

“Oui,”
Gabby answered dreamily as she gazed out to sea, “lovely.”

“I’m not talking about the scenery,” he whispered softly. She could feel his warm breath on the nape of her neck and was disturbed. But he made no move to touch her.

“Please, Captain,” she demurred, wishing he would not continue with such talk.

“I’m sorry, Mademoiselle, but I could not help but make that observation. You are the loveliest creature I have ever seen.”

Gabby was glad the darkness concealed the crimson staining her checks. His voice was so sincere, so intense that she knew he really meant it and was not accustomed to throwing compliments around impulsively. She smiled in spite of herself and was happy it was Captain Stone and not Lieutenant Gray who had found her alone on the beach.

“I see you, too, could not sleep,” she said to cover her embarrassment.

“The balmy night drove me from my room,” the captain admitted. “Now I’m grateful to fate for aiming my steps in this direction.”

“Is your ship out there?” Gabby asked, nodding at the sheltered bay.

“No, we came down from New Orleans by pirogue. Dominique You guided us here.”

“How long will you stay?”

“That hasn’t been decided yet, but probably no longer than a fortnight. Lieutenant Gray and I have been commissioned by General Jackson to inspect the island and its battlements as well as the effectiveness of Lafitte’s fleet should we decide to accept his help. After I am satisfied with his sincerity to aid us I will make my report to the general.”

Gabby began walking along the beach and Captain Stone paced his steps to her, taking it for granted that his company was welcomed. They walked side by side, enjoying the silence, the night, and their companionship. Before long Gabby turned and they returned their steps back to the house where they parted after a softly murmured, “Goodnight.”

BOOK: Tender Fury
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