by Jo Goodman
Travers did not answer. Cloud’s anger gave him the opportunity he needed to move away from the mantle. He managed to move out into the open and with more freedom available he achieved a glancing strike on Cloud’s arm.
Lafitte was forced once again to hold Alexis in her position on the sofa. He watched her. Even in her distress she would not call out to her lover, knowing the distraction could mean his death. Still, there was a strength in her that refused to be harnessed, as if by sheer force of will she could cause Travers to go to his knees and ultimately to his death.
Cloud laughed off the scratch lightly. “You will have to do better, Captain, if you hope to leave Barataría alive. Did you know while the Royal Fleet was losing valuable ships she was only after you?” The point of his rapier struck Travers in the shoulder. Cloud pulled it out immediately and let him have a moment to recover. “No, I suppose you didn’t. Otherwise you would not have slept so easily these years since you murdered her parents.”
Travers ignored the small pain in his shoulder and advanced on Cloud. “What is your interest in this? What lies has she told you to make you defend her?”
“Lies? You’re a fool. I was there, Travers! Do you understand? I was there!”
Travers looked at him blankly. The memory of the help the Quintons’ received registered at the same time Cloud pierced his side with the tip of his rapier.
Again Cloud gave Travers a chance to strike back, circling him slowly. “Those marks were for her parents, Travers. They do not begin to equal the marks you left with her. The lashes you delivered to her back.” He thrust, missed, and lost his balance, stumbling to the floor before he could right himself. Travers lunged but Cloud rolled to one side and quickly regained his stance. “That was your chance, and you missed it. I still have one mark to put on you. The fatal one. For her friend.”
Alexis stared, transfixed as the two men continued their struggle. There were no more words between them. Each was in earnest to see the other defeated. Cloud had only toyed with the captain thus far. The wounds he had inflicted were minor, their pain minimal, and they did not appear to slow Travers. She was conscious of their labored breathing and the sharp, biting sting of the clashing rapiers.
She had almost forgotten the presence of Lafitte until his fingers closed on her shoulders painfully as Travers’s weapon made a deadly sweep down Cloud’s thigh. She welcomed the firm grip because it took her mind off the open wound and the spreading crimson line.
Cloud launched a new attack, perceptibly favoring his good leg, but not to the point that it cost him his balance. As Cloud advanced Travers retreated to the entrance of the drawing room and in a moment both men were in the foyer, out of the line of vision of the three spectators. Pierre quickly entered the foyer and almost as quickly Lafitte lifted Alexis and carried her to the doorway.
Travers was trapped against the banister of the wide, winding staircase. He teetered for a second, unsure whether to move up the stairs or down. His indecisiveness gave Cloud the opportunity he had been seeking. With lightning-like motion his blade cut a jagged path through the air and found its mark in Travers’s chest. This time he did not pull it out.
The captain sagged against the banister, his sword falling noisily on the polished floor below. He clutched the thin blade in his two large hands and pulled it out. Groaning softly, eyes filled with hatred, he made one last effort and tried to toss the rapier at his opponent. It fell only a few inches away from his own feet.
“That was for Pauley,” Cloud said as Travers struggled to remain upright and, failing, fell heavily down the stairs.
Lafitte released Alexis. She ran for the protective embrace awaiting her on the stairway. Enfolded in Cloud’s arms, she was oblivious to Jean and Pierre as she was to the figure at the bottom of the stairs. His kiss gave her the nourishment she had been seeking, and she forgot the time she spent in the hold. She forgot everything but her need for him.
“Your leg,” she whispered against his chest.
“Your eye,” he countered, his lips touching her hair.
“It’s nothing. But your arm—”
“It’s nothing. But your jaw—”
She pulled away from him, laughing, and he joined her. She took his hand and led him down the stairs into the drawing room, past the bemused faces of Jean and Pierre. Still laughing, they collapsed on the sofa, thoroughly enjoying the sound of their voices as a reassurance their time had finally come.
Cloud brushed aside the tears that had formed at the corners of Alexis’s eyes and called to Lafitte. “Jean! Are you and your brother going to stand there and stare as if we’ve gone mad or are you going to find someone to care for our wounds?”
“Neither of you appear to be experiencing any great discomfort to me,” Lafitte answered smugly. He sent Pierre for André anyway.
“What are you going to do about Captain Travers, Jean?” asked Alexis when the pirate had pulled up a chair and seated himself across from them.
“I will take the responsibility for his death. Something like this would be expected from me.”
“No!” Alexis and Cloud protested at once.
“There is no other way. I can protect myself here. Tanner, you would be sought by the British and Alex, you are still a criminal.”
“I think there is another way,” Alexis said. “If you will bring the ship’s doctor here and the lieutenant, Mr. Smith, I think I can persuade them to come up with something that will satisfy the crew and the Admiralty.”
Lafitte eyed her skeptically. “What can they do?”
“I’m not sure but they were friendly to me. Smith knows who I am, and the doctor was willing to risk a great deal to care for me.” André came into the room. At Lafitte’s direction he began cleaning and bandaging Cloud’s leg and arm. While he was working, Alexis related how she had been brought aboard after the storm and how Smith had come to know her identity.
Lafitte listened carefully and decided to follow her suggestion. “Pierre, send someone to bring the two men here. Tell them nothing. We will explain everything when they get here.”
Pierre was on the point of leaving when he offered a hasty apology to Alexis for believing Travers’s story about her. Alexis accepted his embarrassed regret graciously and warned him to take special care of the lieutenant when he brought him from the ship.
When André had finished with Cloud, Lafitte brought him an ottoman to rest his leg on. Then the servant turned his attention to Alexis.
“Are you cold, mademoiselle?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then I think you would be more comfortable if you would remove your cloak.”
Alexis hesitated, not wanting them to see the scratches on her arm and the top of her breast. The other marks were hidden by the dress.
“Is something wrong, Alex?” asked Cloud, sensing her reluctance to be rid of the cloak.
“No. I’ll take it off.” She unfastened the button at her throat and stood, tossing the cloak to an empty chair.
“Dieu! Did Travers do this to you?” Lafitte asked tightly. Alexis nodded and sat beside Cloud again, aware of his anger in the tight grip he placed on her hand. “He is better dead then. He was of no value alive.”
André made a compress for her eye which she held in place after being ordered to do so by all three men. He cleaned the scratch on her arm and applied a salve but he balked, blushing, when it came time to care for the thin line that started at her shoulder and snaked to the curve of her breast.
“It’s all right,” she told him. “I will take care of it later. There are others I have no wish to reveal here.”
Lafitte dismissed his servant. “Others? Why did he do this to you?”
“To punish me for trying to kill him,” she answered simply. It was of no consequence now. She leaned against Cloud’s shoulder, drawing her legs beneath her dress on the sofa. “Jean, I want to thank you for taking care of my crew. I am most grateful.”
“It was my pleasure.”
Jean was on his feet immediately. “Why did you not say something earlier? I will prepare something for you now.” He left them and went to find Jeannine.
Cloud chuckled. “Your friend says tact is not necessary between us, Alex. If you wanted to be alone with me, you could have just said so.”
“I would have, if that’s what I wanted. As it happens I really am very hungry. I was reduced to drinking my bath water.” She wished she had not told him that. His eyes were opaque with pain for her.
Cloud closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing her hand gently. When he opened them, the hurt had vanished and he said lightly, “And I thought you were only interested in me. You have severely injured my pride.”
“You’ll recover.” She ran her hand lightly along the length of his thigh, her eyes shone with a promise that gave meaning to her words. “I will make sure of it.”
When Lafitte returned with a tray of food Alexis slipped to the floor at Cloud’s feet and placed the tray on the cushions of the sofa. The two men watched in amusement as she attacked the cold meat, bread, and cheese ravenously. She had no way of knowing what pleasure they derived from watching her do such an ordinary thing. The fact they thought never to see her again made her every move, every word, important in some way.
When she finished eating she put the tray aside and returned to her place beside Cloud, sharing a glass of wine with him. Their conversation, aimed at filling in gaps in information, was almost concluded when it was interrupted by the arrival of Pierre, the doctor, and the lieutenant from the Follansbee.
Alexis dropped the compress from her eye as she rushed to the drawing-room door to greet them, her gaze resting momentarily on the body behind them.
“What happened?” Smith asked as Alexis took him by the arm and led him to a chair.
“I will explain everything to you. First, are you all right? I did not want you to come if it meant endangering you.”
“I’m fine. Nothing could have kept me away. I told you I would be all right.”
“Yes, you did. And do you remember what I told you?”
Smith hesitated, eyeing Lafitte and Cloud.
“It’s all right. They know. Everyone here does except Dr. Jackson.”
Jackson laughed and the action seemed to take years of age away from him. “I know too, Captain Danty. Don’t blame Ian. I wheedled it out of him after you were taken away this evening. After what you told me in the hold I had to find out more. We’ve been able to piece some sort of story together on the little information we had.”
“I am ready to tell you everything now and I am going to take shameless advantage of our short friendship and mutual dislike for your captain. Would you please get a chair, Doctor?”
Alexis made hasty introductions. When everyone was seated in a small circle she explained the situation to the doctor and Smith, starting with her reason for assuming the role of Captain Alex Danty. With Cloud’s reassuring presence beside her she told the story slowly and clearly, knowing this was the last time she would ever have to go over all that happened since she’d met Travers. Jackson and Smith listened thoughtfully, not condoning her actions at any time, but giving the impression they understood the course she’d taken. That was all she wanted from them.
Cloud finished for her. “Your captain told us Alexis was a runaway slave who hid aboard your vessel. Having no idea she was really Danty, his only thought was to get rid of her and hide what he had done to her and her family. As soon as we saw her and her condition, we knew he had mistreated her. I completed what Alexis tried to do aboard your vessel.”
“And I sanctioned it,” Lafitte added, unwilling to place the sole responsibility on Cloud’s shoulders. “It was a fair duel. Your captain fought well. As you can see, Captain Cloud did not escape unscathed.”
Smith nodded and looked at Jackson. “Is there a problem, Hugh?”
“A fair match. There is no problem.”
“I agree. Monsieur Lafitte…Captain Cloud…Alexis,” he addressed them, looking at each in turn. “There are very few men aboard the Follansbee who will mourn the death of Captain Travers. In a sense you have freed us all. The doctor and I will take care of the body. He will be given a proper burial at sea, and we will falsify the cause of death. No one need ever know what took place here. In return for our silence I would like some assurance that Captain Danty has retired her command. Is that possible?”
“Captain Danty’s career is over, Mr. Smith,” Alexis said quietly, her voice trembling with emotion. “I will not seek out the men who were with him that day. They can live with the guilt of what happened. For them I think it will mean something. You have nothing to fear from me.”
“Good. Monsieur Lafitte, may I have the answer you were prepared to give my commander concerning the reason for his visit?”
“The answer is no. I will not give aid to the British. I suspect I will be asked again but you can tell your superiors I will remain firm.”
Smith nodded, then he turned to Cloud. “And you, Captain? We are at war. Do I have the right to ask that the Follansbee be able to leave Barataría safely?”
“You have that right. And you have my word.”
Smith stood and ran his fingers through his flaxen hair. Alexis was quick to notice the eager light in his blue eyes. He was ready to assume command and she silently wished him good fortune. “I have need of nothing else, then. We are done here. If the doctor and I could have some assistance with the body, we will return to the ship and sail immediately.”
The goodbyes were brief, but when Alexis stood beside Cloud on the portico, Smith and Jackson each took a turn to whisper in her ear.
“What did they say to you?” Cloud and Lafitte asked her almost as soon as they were out of sight.
“Dr. Jackson told me to put the compress back on my eye.”
“And Smith? What did he say?”
Alexis smiled. “He said he would cherish the scar I gave him because he could say he’d met Captain Danty and lived.”
Lafitte decided the reunion between Alexis and her crew could wait until morning. With Cloud’s assurance that Jordan was well and Peach mending rapidly, Alexis finally admitted her total exhaustion.
Back in the room Lafitte had provided for Cloud, Alexis let him undress her and apply medication to her cuts. Her muscles relaxed under his tender ministrations until she thought she would never be able to move again.
“He was not so hard on you this time, Alex,” he said as he smoothed the salve along a thin line on her thigh. “It’s a miracle, considering what you tried to do to him.”
“He only wanted me to beg.”
“Did you?”
“What do you think?”
“I think that’s how you got the black eye.”
“You’re right.”
Cloud put the bottle on the bureau and undressed and joined her in bed, pulling a sheet over them. Alexis blew out the candles on the nightstand, then nestled close beside him, fitting the contours of her body to his own.
“I thought you were dead,” Cloud said after a long silence.
“I know,” she said softly, her voice breaking in her throat. “I thought about it all the time I was aboard that frigate. Revenge was little comfort when I realized I might not see you again. I would not have hesitated to kill Travers if I hadn’t thought that. Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to do it until he said he was going to get rid of me…to pass me off as a slave. Then it all came back. The hate, the disgust—everything.”
“It’s all over now. You are free of all of it.”
“Except you.”
“That’s right. You’re my captive. Do you mind?”
“What do you think?”
“I think we should get married.”
“You’re right.”
Exhaustion and pain were ignored, overridden by a driving hunger that sought pleasure as an expression of all
they meant to each other. Cloud’s light touch elicited soft moans and gentle urgings. His mouth on hers stilled her whispered pleas until his lips moved to her throat, her breasts, and she could not remain silent. Her hands moved across his back, up his neck, and while he caressed the length of her leg, her fingers wound in his thick copper hair.
“When we’re together…like this, I feel alive.” She expressed herself softly, not wanting to break the special reverence of the moment. “Do you know what I mean?”
Cloud lifted his head and searched Alexis’s face. His eyes were darkly passionate and his thickly lashed lids were heavy with his desire as he gazed into her slumberous amber eyes. “From the very beginning, Alex. I’ve always known you were necessary to me…like the air and the sea. I was only afraid you would never admit it was the same for you.”
“I was scared.”
“I know.” He kissed her briefly, soothingly. “So frightened in some ways—so courageous in others.”
She returned his kiss, tasting his mouth with the tip of her tongue, asking his forgiveness for a time when she had not been brave enough to be honest with him or herself. She felt him tremble as his fingers moved caressingly along the edge of her brow, her jaw, then along the slope of her neck. She noticed her own hands were trembling as they traced a similar pattern along the ridges and angles of his face.
Her smooth legs sought the masculinity of his. Her hips and thighs, vulnerable to his pleasure, arched searchingly to find and satisfy him, ensuring that her own desires were met.
When they joined there was no longer the sense of a battle between them. Each only strove to give the other greater pleasure than had been known before. Alexis found it first, her senses assaulted, her mind teetering on the edge of oblivion and moments later, unable to withstand the contraction of her muscles, the demands she placed on him with her mouth, her hands, he joined her.
Breathing slowed, heartbeats found a normal rhythm, as muscles ceased to quiver and tremble. Cloud touched the chain at Alexis’s throat and brushed his lips against hers.