The Captain's Lady

by Jo Goodman

  “She’s staying in my home for the present. I have men guarding the house to prevent her escape.” The senator’s eyebrows rose slightly and Cloud chuckled softly. “You didn’t think she would come of her own free will, did you? I thought I made that clear from the moment the subject of Alex Danty was brought up.”

  “You did,” he said, taking a pull of his drink. “I was hoping that once war had been declared she might prove to be more cooperative.”

  “Congress could not have chosen a worse day to act on Mr. Madison’s proposal, Senator.” The eyebrows lifted again, and Cloud explained everything that had taken place since he’d left Washington. He put special emphasis on Alexis’s escape attempt so Howe would understand precisely how determined she was to refuse them. “The last thing she told me today was that she had no intention of leaving Washington until she meets with the President. She believes she has a score to settle with him.”

  Howe’s eyes narrowed. He tapped the side of his large nose thoughtfully. “I imagine she wants to tell him to go to hell.” Cloud nodded and Howe added, “Little Jemmy might like hearing it straight to his face for a change, instead of behind his back.”

  Cloud got to his feet, uneasy with the derogatory tone in the senator’s voice. He wanted to end the meeting swiftly. “Senator, are you and the others still insistent upon using Captain Danty to provide a means to Lafitte?”

  Howe gave no indication one way or the other. “Why do you want to know?”

  “I think it is unwise to pursue the subject with her. She has already mentioned Lafitte in passing, but it is easy to see she will not use her friendship, even to save herself.”

  “Does she know that by bringing Lafitte to us she can gain herself a pardon?”

  “In the first place, Senator, she has correctly surmised that we have no right to keep her. In order for her to be brought here I had to threaten her with the imprisonment of her men. She knows these charges are merely a ruse. I have only told her we require her assistance, that her knowledge of British movements, of running blockades, would be of value to us. Those are the things you should ask her to help us with. I never mentioned Lafitte, hoping I could persuade you to reconsider the issue. I doubt if she will help us now, even if Lafitte’s name is never brought up, but I know for a certainty she will refuse if we expect her to use her friendship as a weapon.”

  “You have something in mind, Captain?” asked Howe, mulling over what had been said.

  “I believe if we offer Captain Danty an opportunity to find Travers she may help us.” Cloud was taken aback by the quick and angry response of the senator.

  “It’s out of the question! Bennet Farthington will tell you himself that we don’t need ships in the Caribbean right now, not when the British are beginning to blockade our eastern ports.”

  “And what good is her experience if she refuses you and spends the entire war in prison?” Cloud asked angrily.

  “She would do that?”

  “She’ll tell you yourself if you don’t change your approach.”

  Senator Howe eased back in his chair. “Travers is in the Caribbean. Lafitte is in the Caribbean. If she could bring us Lafitte then—”

  “No! Lafitte must stay out of this. Find another way to get his help. Captain Danty will not do it.”

  “You ask too much for her, Captain.”

  “I do not,” Cloud answered quietly. Howe said nothing and Cloud went on, resigned to the fact that nothing would change. “When do you want to meet with her?”

  “Robert Davidson has asked the President to have dinner with him on Thursday. Granger, Farthington, and I will also be there. Originally we had planned to discuss what we would do if you were unsuccessful, now that has changed. It will be a good time for a meeting with Captain Danty. We can discuss her role after dinner. Why are you frowning, Captain?”

  Howe’s question caught him off guard. He had been unaware he had shown his displeasure so openly. “I doubt that Captain Danty will take kindly to the pretense.”

  “The pretense?”

  “What else can you call it, Senator? She knows she is not your guest, yet you would ask that she perceive it that way. You would give her dinner, small talk, let her drink her wine, in return for her cooperation. She would rather you brought her in chains than as a guest.”

  “That is hardly something I would consider.”

  “Consider only that she will perceive it that way.”

  “If it’s chains she wants, Captain, you may assure her that is what she’ll have if she refuses.”

  Cloud stood immobile, fighting not to show what he thought about the senator, realizing somehow it was dangerous to show this man too much. “What time Thursday do I bring her to this”—he wanted to say charade—“dinner,” he finished, hoping the hesitation was not noticeable.

  “I believe seven-thirty is what Davidson had in mind.” He checked his calendar, making a great show of it. “Yes. Seven-thirty, it is.”

  As soon as Cloud left the office Howe scribbled a note and called in his secretary. “Find Bennet Farthington. He should be hanging on Eustis’s heels somewhere. Don’t look at me blankly! He’s the War Secretary, for God’s sake! Give Bennet this.” Howe threw the paper across his desk and his secretary hurried out. He got out of his chair and began to pace the room in angry strides.

  She had to bring them Lafitte. He was the point of all of this—that, and having Danty herself in custody. If everything the captain said was true then they might have to settle for only Danty. The meeting would prove very interesting.

  Walking toward his home, Cloud wondered if he should tell Alexis what had happened in the meeting. He already was sure she suspected there was something more involved in obtaining her pardon than simply supplying them with information and helping them fight a few ships. He shook his head. She would have to hear it from them. He could not be the one to tell her what they wanted.

  He stopped suddenly, passing a dress shop. Taking a few steps backward, he went inside. He had not given any thought to what she would wear to meet the President until now and he knew she had nothing suitable for a dinner. He thought of her greeting the President and the others in her fawn britches and white shirt, perhaps with her rapier at her side. He chuckled softly at the thought, then felt himself tensing at the picture he created. She would be magnificent in anything she wore. He wondered idly if Howe expected her to appear with her dagger drawn.

  He got the attention of the shopkeeper, a small woman with shrewd violet eyes, and explained what he wanted. She showed him pages and pages of drawings of gowns and he imagined each of them on Alexis’s slim, elegant form. He stopped in his search, pressing a finger to the gown on the page in front of him. The gown in the picture appeared to be made of a heavy material, possibly velvet, but it was not the richness of the material that caught his eye. The style, the lines of the gown, matched Alexis. It had short, puffed sleeves, a rounded neckline; and below the empire waist the dress hung freely.

  “This is the one,” he said with certainty.

  “It is very beautiful,” the woman agreed, eyeing Cloud with satisfaction. “Will your wife be choosing the material?”

  “Ah…no,” he stammered and could hardly believe he had done it. The reference to Alexis as his wife took him by surprise. “I will choose. I don’t want a heavy material like the one in this drawing. Do you have something very delicate? In blue perhaps?”

  She nodded and left him, returning quickly with a swatch of sky blue material, so sheer it seemed to him only a film of air in his hands.

  “This is exactly what I want,” he said, letting it slip through his fingers into her hand. “Can you have the gown ready by Thursday afternoon? Also the suitable undergarments?”

  The shopkeeper was aghast, the curved lines of her rounded face were drawn tight with shock. “It is impossible! That is only three days away. It would take at least a week and I need your wife for a fitting.”

  “Alexis cannot come in for a fitt
ing and I must have the gown ready on Thursday,” he persisted. “I am willing to pay extra for your inconvenience. Alexis and I have been invited to a dinner at the home of Representative Davidson. The President will be there. Perhaps Dolley.” He knew it was a lie but it was interesting to see how Dolley’s presence at the occasion suddenly made the impossible possible. He knew the woman was thinking what a wealth of orders she would have if the President’s wife saw one of her gowns.

  The woman smiled, her keen sense of business was surfacing quickly. “I think it can be done, but it will mean some trouble for me,” she said, alluding to the fact he had agreed to pay for it.

  Cloud laughed, marveling at the way the woman’s devious mind responded. “Any price, madam. I must have the gown and I assure you Alexis will be the best model you have had in years.”

  “Then you understand why I am agreeing to this insane pace.”

  “Of course. Now as to the measurements…”

  The woman listened closely, jotting down notes, as Cloud described Alexis’s proportions with uncanny accuracy. She was immensely pleased to meet a man who knew his wife so well and who appeared to be as astute as herself. She raised her eyebrows slightly when he asked for a modification in the design of the dress he had chosen.

  “The back must be higher,” he said.

  “But Captain, it is not the style or—”

  “Madam, I am already paying an exorbitant sum for this gown. We both know it. Humor me on this point.” He was not going to explain the scars that made it impossible for Alexis to wear a garment that would reveal her back.

  The shopkeeper gave in, as he knew she would. The captain was very insistent over what seemed a minor detail to her. If his wife was as he described, then any change seemed worth it in order to have her wear this gown. A pity, she thought, that she would never see her wear it.

  They haggled over the cost of the undergarments and slippers, and although she knew she lost money on this part of the transaction, she more than made up for it by the price he was willing to pay for the gown. He had no sooner left the shop than she called for her assistants to begin working on what surely would be her masterpiece.

  Cloud stopped one more time on his way home when the glint of silver caught his eye in a jeweler’s window. He stared for a long time at the necklace before he walked in to purchase it. He thought of what he had said to Howe about Alexis preferring to come in chains. He wondered if the senator would see the significance of the slender silver choker. Alexis would understand what he meant by the gift. As he slipped the velvet case inside his pocket he conjured up the image of her standing before him.

  Golden hair framed her oval face. Her amber eyes were like soft flames, lighting the room with delicate sparks. The sheer blue gown hung softly from the curve of her shoulders and the low, rounded bodice revealed the tawny hollow of her throat and the gentle swell of her breasts. He could see the faint movement of the pulse in her throat as she lifted her hand to her neck to touch the silver chain caressing her skin. Her lips parted slightly and her eyes lowered, as if in supplication, then her hand dropped once more to her side. He followed the movement of her bare arm, allowing his eyes to gently touch her slim waist, only hinted at by her movement in the gown. His eyes dropped still lower to the long, straight line of her legs, legs he could not see except through the silhouette provided by the dim light behind her. The gown showed nothing, yet revealed all of her. The empire waist enclosed the curves of her breasts while the long blue folds of material defined the form they hid. Her fingers slowly drew again to her throat, and she touched the chain lightly, raising her eyes to him, telling him she understood its meaning, a tremulous smile playing on her lips. He caught the glimmer of a tear in her eye, brighter than the facet of a diamond. The image shattered.

  What right? he thought. By what right did he have to present her with the necklace and announce her bondage to him? The answer came to him as almost a physical jolt. Though he had said it to her often and to himself more times than he could count, it never seemed more real than at this moment. He pressed his hand against the case in his pocket. He loved her. Hadn’t she once said his love was more binding than any chain could be? He had not fully understood then. He did now. He would offer her the necklace but the decision to wear it would be hers. She would have to decide if she was ready to accept all the necklace signified between them, even if she could not say the words he wanted to hear.

  Briskly he continued his walk, his thoughts turning to more mundane matters, like the emptiness in his stomach and the fact he had had very little sleep in the past few days.

  Alexis tilted her head toward the door at the sound of a knock, anticipating Cloud’s entrance. She started for the door but Harry by-passed her and got there first. She gasped when she saw Mike on the threshold, his eye almost swollen shut, his lip and jaw cut. Behind him were Frank, Forrest, and a few others. None of them looked any better.

  She stopped Mike’s intended explanation by forcefully leading him to the kitchen where she could see to his battered face. “What have you all been up to?” she asked, pushing Mike into a chair. “None of you look as you did when I left you this morning.”

  Forrest smiled, seating himself at the table. He moved his jaw back and forth, making certain it still functioned properly. “There was a disagreement at the wharf. We settled it.”

  Alexis lifted an eyebrow suspiciously. “Nothing is worth all this damage to your bodies,” she said firmly. “John, get me some wet towels so I can see whether these men will ever be fit for duty again.”

  “I assure you this was worth it,” Mike said, looking directly at Alexis. The others agreed emphatically.

  Alexis did not understand why they were all staring at her when they answered, but Landis and Harry saw immediately that she had been the cause of the disagreement. They exchanged knowing smiles, and Landis patted Mike on the back.

  “I hope you settled the difference of opinion in your favor,” Landis said to Mike.

  “Oh, yes. We did,” he answered, grinning.

  “Well, I don’t like it,” Alexis broke in, shaking her head as she washed away the dried blood on Mike’s lip. “And you all have been drinking. I suppose the losers were forced to buy.”

  Forrest laughed, then winced. “Not at all, Alex. We bought them a few rounds—to soften their defeat.”

  Alexis looked at all of them, taking special notice of Tom, who was doing his best to avoid her eyes. “I think you’ll all survive. Mike, you’re finished. Tom, get over here and sit down. I want to see what you call a toothache.”

  “Sorry, Alex,” he said when he took his seat.

  “Just open up, Tom. Let’s see how many teeth you’ve knocked loose.” Alexis pronounced him fit. “You may as well look as presentable to your captain as possible, although I don’t know how you are going to hide those black eyes. Frank, you’ve got a real shiner. You’re next.”

  Frank saluted her smartly and took Tom’s place. Alexis and Landis nursed them all until she was satisfied they retained some resemblance to their former selves.

  When she was finished she smiled at them. “And to think you are supposed to be guarding me. I’d have the lot of you keelhauled!” The laughter in her eyes belied the seriousness of her tone.

  “It’d be worth it,” Forrest answered, “if you were around to take care of me afterward.”

  “You’re impossible, you old goat!” she said, tossing a wet towel in his face. “All of you are just impossible.” They joined her laughter and when it subsided she shooed them out of the kitchen. “I’ll wager you haven’t had anything in your bellies but ale, and I intend to remedy that. Forrest, you go with the others. I’ll cook myself. These men have suffered enough for one day.”

  The others gave Alexis a grateful look and pulled the blustering cook down the hallway before he could protest. She could hear his grumbling and the good-natured taunts of the rest of the men as they seated themselves in the drawing room.

&nbs
p; Later they ate in Cloud’s spacious dining room and the men insisted Alexis preside at the head of the table. Their talk was light and friendly as they embellished the actions of their fight. Alexis listened intently, trying to discern the reason for their violence. She remained in the dark until Mike, feeling the effects of the wine served with dinner on top of the ale he had imbibed earlier, accidentally blurted out, “And when he called her the captain’s whore, I couldn’t…”

  His voice drifted off into silence, broken by the sound of Alexis’s fork clattering to her plate. Mike sobered instantly and looked around the table for support. The others glared murderously at him, leaving him to smooth the incident over. He watched Alexis pick up her fork and place it beside her plate, never lifting her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Alex. I didn’t mean…” He faltered, not knowing exactly what he wanted to say. He was relieved when she rescued him.

  “Don’t apologize, Mike,” she said evenly, folding her hands in her lap. “You did nothing save repeat what you heard.” She paused, gathering her strength. “So you fought for the captain’s whore. I suppose I should be grateful or at least flattered that you saw it as a reason for abusing yourselves, but I can’t thank you for fighting something I should have faced alone.”

  Frank caught her eyes and held them. His boyish smile had faded, and he spoke earnestly. “We fought because we knew it wasn’t true, Alex. And you’re wrong about it being only your fight. We are powerless to do anything about you being a prisoner, but we could do something about how those men saw you. It was for ourselves that we fought, as well as for your name and the name of our captain. Our respect was on the line back there too. The men who saw you led away had no idea who you were. They thought we had wasted our time, not sighting any British ships, refusing to do battle. They did not realize we had finished one of the most valuable missions of the war, and no matter how we hate our assignment, we all retain some pride that the woman in question is Captain Alex Danty. They still know nothing about you, except that you are certainly no whore.”