Journey of the Wind

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  her to be his mistress. The longer such a thing was put off, the better the chance

  Alsandair would find a way to rescue her. Not once did she doubt he would. Though

  she didn’t want anything to happen Andre, she wanted to be with her true love even

  more.

  “What if you don’t go to the Council?” she asked.

  “Louis will take you away from me and install you in his house until I do,” he

  answered. “I doubt you’d either be welcomed or happy with him and Antoinette. She’s

  a tawdry bitch.”

  “Can’t you just tell him no?” she asked.

  “I wish it were that simple, precious,” he said. “There is more involved here than

  you know.”

  “I know your brother has entirely too much authority over you even if he is older,”

  she said. They hadn’t discussed Louis all that much. Each time she’d brought his name

  up, Andre had changed the subject. She didn’t even know how they’d found one

  another again after Andre had been brought to Wicklaw Cay as a child.

  “Go on to the house,” he said. “I’ll take a quick dip to cool off then join you. Put me

  out a clean set of clothes to wear before the Council.”

  “Andre—” she began, but he held up a hand.

  “Complaining about it won’t keep it from happening, bébé. Arguing won’t either.”

  She watched him head down the path through the forest which led to a waterfall

  that fell just beyond the edge of his estate. Angrier at his brother than she was with

  Andre, she flounced around and started for the house. Cursing Louis Corsair beneath

  her breath, she came up short when that man stepped directly in front of her, blocking

  her way. She jumped back, her eyes wide, her hand to her throat.

  “You scared me!” she said, the blood pounding in her ears.

  “Hurt my Andi and I’ll do more than scare you, bitch,” Louis spat at her. “He’s had

  more than his share of trouble in his thirty-odd years. He don’t need no more and

  especially not from some skirt!”

  “And whose fault was that?” she said, lifting her chin. “He was just a child, a

  defenseless little boy. You were his big brother and you should have protected him.

  Instead, you left him at the mercy of a man you knew would neglect him and—”

  Louis moved so fast she had no time to step away from him. He came toe to toe

  with her, grabbing her arm to jerk him to her. “You don’t know nothing about what

  you’re speaking of!” he hissed into her face.

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  “I know you left him to a man who sold him for another man’s perverted pleasure,”

  she said, and strove hard not to tremble in his hard grip. “You have to know what that

  did to him. He has nightmares about his stay with Bertrand.”

  Pain flickered through Louis Corsair’s eyes for just a second and he released her

  arm as though the contact had burned him. He moved back although he was still too

  close to her for her comfort. She imagined she saw guilt settling on his beefy face.

  “Nobody could have anticipated what the old man did,” he said in a breaking

  voice. “If’n I’d known what he had planned, I would have taken Andi with me when I

  left. Better he starve to death than have had that happen to him. All I wanted was to get

  away so I could make enough money to care for him properly as a man should care for

  his…” He shook his head as though to clear it of the thought that stung him. “You don’t

  know nothing!”

  Realization came like a lightning bolt through Rylee and her mouth dropped open.

  She stared at Louis. “Oh dear god! You’re not his brother. You’re his father,” she

  whispered.

  Louis Corsair straightened his shoulders. “Breathe one word of that and I’ll pull

  your tongue out by the root, wench. I swear to the gods I will,” he warned. That said, he

  pivoted on his heel and disappeared among the lush foliage.

  “Oh my god,” Rylee said as she put a shaky hand to her mouth. She felt sick to her

  stomach at the thought of a fourteen-year-old boy having an incestuous affair with his

  own mother. The mere thought of it was revolting.

  “We did not have the same mother,” Andre said quietly.

  Rylee turned to find him walking toward her, his hair wet and tousled about his

  tanned face, water cascading off his chest, the waistband of his pants wet. He was

  barefoot, carrying his boots in one hand.

  “Walk with me, precious,” he said, and held out his free hand to her.

  She took his hand without question and felt the wet coolness of his flesh against

  hers. He led her to a little gazebo he had built with his own hands, a fanciful creation in

  which she loved to sit and read in the late afternoon while he was with his men in town.

  Indicating one of the two large white wicker peacock chairs with thick, floral cushions,

  he waited until she was seated then sat down in the other chair. A fresh breeze lazily

  turned the wicker fan in the ceiling.

  Andre sat forward with his hands clasped between his legs and looked at Rylee.

  “I had been here about three years before Captain DuMont’s wife agreed to allow

  him to take me on as his cabin boy. At eleven, I was big for my age and could pretty

  much take care of myself. The men of the Cay had taught me things no eleven-year-old

  should ever know and it was because I was starting to get some attention from the

  whores down at the waterfront that Miss Libby, the captain’s wife, thought it was time I

  went pirating.” He smiled slightly. “Truth be told, I was more than ready to go because

  I was growing tired of finding ways to fend off those whores.”

  He turned his head and gazed at the beach beyond.

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  “On the first day we were out, the lookout spied a navy transport from Françasia.

  Normally the captain wouldn’t have bothered engaging a military ship but he’d heard

  there was a cache of weapons being delivered to Espange and that meant a lot of money

  if he could get them. Military ships are hard to take because they’ll stand and fight

  whereas a merchant ship is rarely ever equipped with guns and even with those that

  are, the crew isn’t all that proficient with them.”

  “It was more dangerous for you pirates,” she said.

  “Very much so,” he agreed. “But we had speed on our side and we outmaneuvered

  them. We got in a few good broadsides and for the most part skipped well out of range

  of their gunners. The battle lasted several hours but in the end, the Flying Pearl had only

  minor damage while the transport was floundering. We knew we had to get on the ship

  quickly and get the guns before she sank.”

  Rylee drew her knees up into the wide expanse of the comfortable chair. “Where

  were you during all the fighting?”

  “Below deck,” he said with a bit of disgust. “The captain said if anything happened

  to me he’d best not return home else his wife would fillet him. He feared that little

  woman, believe me.”

  She laughed. “I imagine so.”

  “The fighting was fierce once our men boarded the transport. We lost a lot of good

  men that day but the military men fared worse. Their captain had died in the first volley

  and the first mate had been grievously wounded. The
man who was next in command

  was a coward and surrendered as soon as Captain DuMont boarded the transport. I

  came up on deck as soon as I was allowed and it was then I saw Louis among the

  prisoners about to be executed.”

  “Did he see you?”

  Andre nodded. “At about the same time I saw him. He recognized me, he said,

  because I looked just like him at that age. He yelled out to me and I tried to get over to

  the transport but Gaston caught me and wouldn’t let me. I begged Captain DuMont to

  spare Louis and—as he later told me—he did so against his better judgment.” He

  looked down at the floor of the gazebo. “Louis was the only one to survive among the

  military men that day.”

  “He had joined the military then.”

  “Not intentionally,” he said with a snort. “He’d been looking for work and

  managed to get impressed into the Françasian navy. He has the scars on his back to

  prove it. He seemed relieved to see me yet even more relieved to be away from the navy

  and its cat-o’-nine.”

  He went on to tell her how Louis had taken easily to the life of a pirate. His hatred

  for the military held him in good stead and even though the transport upon which he’d

  been billeted had not carried the expected weapons, he was able to provide invaluable

  information to the pirates concerning the ships which did.

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  “Louis developed a reputation for being a cold-blooded murderer,” Andre said.

  “Like DuMont, he took no prisoners and was excessively brutal when we encountered a

  military ship. Even with merchant and passenger ships, he is known for his savagery.”

  He looked up at her. “It was a good thing his ship was not the one who intercepted the

  Mary Constance. I hate to think what might have happened to you and the boy.”

  So did Rylee. She shuddered at the thought. “When did you find out he was your

  father and not your brother?” she asked, trying to drag her mind away from what could

  have happened.

  “About two years after he joined DuMont’s crew,” Andre replied. “I was thirteen

  years old, about the same age he’d been when my mother came to live with our father.”

  He smiled grimly. “I had reached the age where I was becoming very interested in the

  girls down at the waterfront. One night he caught me sneaking off down there and

  grabbed me up by the scruff of the neck and gave me a backhand that nearly broke my

  jaw. He yelled at me, telling me he wasn’t about to let me ruin my life with one of the

  diseased doxies who plied their trade on the docks and that if I needed to polish my

  whistle, it would be with a woman of his choosing.”

  “I bet that went over big with you,” she commented, blushing.

  He shrugged. “At that point and at that age, I just wanted to have sex with a female,

  any female. I wasn’t particular who or what she was. I also knew I wanted nothing to

  do with the men who kept giving me looks because of what Bertrand had done to me.

  So Louis dragged me down to Antoinette’s brothel that night. He’d set her up with her

  own place when he’d brought her to the Cay and he was making a pretty good living

  just off her and her girls. While I was in with Toni—he didn’t trust anyone else to

  initiate me as he put it—he tied on a helluva drunk downstairs. I had to go get Gaston

  to help me take him back to the hut where he was living.”

  Rylee was watching his face closely and she could see the pain that began shifting

  across his countenance.

  “It was while I was helping Gaston undress him and put him to bed that he started

  talking about Janelle, my mother. From the things he said, I began to realize what had

  happened, what the two of them had done. I ran out of the hut and hid in the jungle,

  horrified and filled with revulsion. I was out there four days before he finally found me.

  As soon as I saw him, I attacked him.” He laughed. “A thirteen-year-old boy can’t do

  much damage to a twenty-seven-year-old man twice his size and with ten times the

  experience with fighting. Before I knew what was happening he had me down on the

  ground, pinning my shoulders with his knees. He was one heavy bastard, let me tell

  you.”

  She listened as he explained that Louis’ mother had left her husband for another

  man when Louis was twelve. After that, his father had hidden his hurt and

  embarrassment at losing his wife in every rum bottle he could get his hands on. He had

  also started taking his frustrations out on Louis, blaming Louis for his mother leaving.

  A year later, he’d come home one night with a woman in tow—the woman who would

  become Andre’s mother.

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  “According to Louis she was stunningly beautiful,” Andre said. “She was a sixteen-

  year-old from l’Hongrie and our father had won her in a card game. Louis said he fell in

  love with her the moment he saw her and—as he swears—she fell in love with him.

  Together, they made me.”

  “Did your father know you weren’t his child?” she asked, thinking of the card game

  in which Alsandair had won her from Kyle.

  “Oh he knew,” Andre stated. “He had drunk so much by then he couldn’t maintain

  an erection long enough to take any woman. It seems the only way he could get

  satisfaction was orally and that was how he used my mother.”

  Rylee blushed and looked down at her hands. “I’m surprised he didn’t cause her to

  miscarry you.”

  “I don’t think that ever occurred to him,” Andre said. “He professed to be a gods-

  fearing man.”

  “Thank the gods for that,” she said. “What happened when he learned she was

  pregnant?”

  “Louis says the old man did his damnedest to kill him when he found out. He

  probably would have if Louis hadn’t gotten away from him. As it was, he’d beaten him

  so badly Louis was in bed for several days, being cared for by a neighbor.” He ran a

  hand through his hair. “The neighbor threatened to go to the sheriff if it happened

  again. From that day on, the old man was careful not to hurt Louis too badly when he

  beat him and to beat him where the bruises didn’t show.”

  “What an awful time that must have been for Louis,” Rylee said.

  “The worst years of his life, he says,” Andre told her. “But nothing compared to the

  night he lost the only woman he swears he will ever love.”

  “Was it a complicated birth then?”

  Andre sighed deeply. “My mother was too young, too small. She started

  hemorrhaging and the healer couldn’t stop the loss of blood. Before she died, she made

  Louis promise he’d look after me, not let anything happen to me. I think she feared

  what the old man would do if given the chance.”

  “Yet Louis eventually left you alone with your father,” she said.

  “He said he thought I had reached the age to look after myself long enough for him

  to find a decent job and come back for me. I believe him when he says he had every

  intention of doing that had not the press-gang taken him.”

  “How did you feel about him leaving?” she inquired.

  “I didn’t think much about it to tell the truth. His was one less hand to feel across

  my face,�
� he answered.

  “He hit you?”

  “Often enough. Though he had promised her to look after me, he did so

  begrudgingly, and I grew up feeling his anger and hatred, thinking it was because I was

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  the one responsible for our mother’s death.” He sighed again. “It was not an easy

  childhood.”

  “I imagine not,” she agreed. “I can’t begin to understand how both he and his father

  could blame you for something you had no hand in causing.”

  “They had to blame someone,” he said as he bent over to pull on his boots. “Louis

  had truly loved my mother and having lost her, having had her taken away from him,

  he was heartbroken.”

  “Now you know how I feel about Alsandair,” she said softly.

  Andre slowly raised his head and turned to stare at her. His eyes were cold, his

  handsome face as hard as flint. “Don’t ever say his name to me again,” he warned her.

  “Haven’t you ever loved anyone, Andre?” she asked.

  “Not until now,” he said.

  Rylee drew in a quick breath. “Andre—”

  “I have to go to the Council,” he said and shot up from the chair so quickly she had

  no time to stop him. The last she saw of him, he was striding down the path to the

  waterfront.

  * * * * *

  Half an hour later, Rylee was starting to go upstairs when she heard heavy footfalls

  on the veranda. She turned to find Gaston coming in the door, his hat in his hand.

  “Milady,” he said then cleared his throat to continue. “You need to come with me.”

  “Has something happened?” she asked.

  “The Council is demanding your appearance,” Gaston said, unable to meet her

  eyes.

  Rylee’s shoulders slumped. “For the Joining?” she inquired in a barely audible

  voice.

  Gaston nodded. “Aye, milady.”

  “It won’t be legal,” she said.

  “It will on the Cay, milady,” Gaston reminded her. “And that’s all that matters to

  him and Louis.”

  Knowing she had no choice in the matter, Rylee walked over to Gaston. He still

  would not look at her and she could feel the old man’s discomfort. “Then let’s get it

  over with,” she said, and headed out the screen door.

  When she returned to L’endroit Sûr, she returned as Andre Corsair’s bride. He

  brought her over his threshold as was customary and carried her up the stairs to their