by tiffy
ʺI want you, Elise, as well as our daughter. You are my woman, just as Orlena is my child. We can begin again, put mistrust behind us. Castal is dead. Let Claiborne deal with the intrigues here. Forget the past.ʺ
She met his eyes and saw such earnest entreaty that it wrung her heart. ʺItʹs just as it was in New Mexico, Santiago. Can we simply ride west and forget my husband? Legally, he is the one who can claim Orlena.ʺ
ʺFor quite a few years before you met me, you conveniently forgot your husband.ʺ
She blanched. ʺUntil I met you, I was never an adulteress!ʺ
ʺYou donʹt love him, Elise. Why use him as a shield to hide behind now?ʺ he retorted, fighting to control his temper.
Her face took on a haunted sadness. ʺThere are things about Edouard . . .ʺ She shook her head, as if to banish thoughts too horrible to voice. ʺI donʹt wish to speak of him.ʺ Her trembling transmitted itself to the baby, who awakened with a fretful cry. As she rocked little Orlena, she looked at Santiago. ʺPlease, I need time to think. I never believed . . . Castal was so certain you would follow me . . .ʺ
ʺAnd you were just as certain I would not. Did you never once think I had a right to know about her?ʺ
Her eyes darkened to violet fire. ʺYou did come only to claim your child. Well, you canʹt have her. Sheʹs mine!ʺ
ʺIʹll have you both, dammit! I love you, Elise, and I wonʹt give up you or my daughter.ʺ He stood and paced across the floor, feeling caged and frightened, hurt and angry. ʺAna told me your husband would die.ʺ
She gasped in horror. ʺAnd youʹll kill him to fulfill the prophecy?ʺ
His shoulders drooped. ʺI donʹt know, Elise. I asked Ana that same question. She had no answer. But he does deserve to die, doesnʹt he?ʺ
She shook her head in confusion, and Orlena began to wail in earnest this time, sensing the explosive emotions sizzling between her parents. ʺIʹm no judge or jury. Much as I want to be free of him, I donʹt want his blood on our hands. It will stain Orlena as well as us. In societyʹs eyes, weʹve committed a grievous sin, Santiago. I wonʹt have her marked with it!ʺ
ʺYou cannot believe the love that created our child was a sin.ʺ
She made no response as the infant continued crying. Orlenaʹs thin voice frightened and distracted her mother. He watched Elise soothe Orlena, then walked to the door. ʺYou need time to regain your strength. Weʹll talk again when youʹve recovered.ʺ
After he was gone, the tears she had held in check rolled down Eliseʹs cheeks.
What was she to do? If only she had heeded Thomas Jeffersonʹs advice and let him secure the annulment for her five years agobut the ugliness of what it would have revealed still made her shudder. ʺIʹll not have you branded a bastard . . .
and worse,ʺ she whispered as she sheltered the frail little bundle protectively.
Santiago spent a restless night, tossing and turning in the uncomfortable narrow bed next door to Elise and their daughter. When he awakened, he had no more answers than he had possessed the previous afternoon. If he killed Louvois, Elise was rightthe Frenchmanʹs ghost would stand between them, tainting their relationship. Yet there was more to the dissolution of her marriage than she had told him. A man of unspeakable evil. He knew that he would die or kill before he would ever let Louvois near Elise and Orlena.
He decided that he could deal with one matter that admitted of a somewhat easier solution. Juliette. Grimly, he headed downstairs to confront her, knowing none of the servants would have allowed her to escapenot since her brother had tried to kill Jacob in cold blood. Miraculously, the tough old man was still alive and apparently would survive. One sin neither he nor Julie had on their conscience. He laughed to himself, thinking how lightly the matter would weigh on her mind.
When he reached the front hall at the foot of the stairs, the subject of his ruminations materialized from the dining room, in artful dishabille. Her chestnut hair was brushed down her back, with a few curls veiling her shoulders and lying at the base of her pale, slender throat, which was clearly revealed by the gaping silk robe belted carelessly at her waist. One sleek leg was exposed and her breasts, straining against the sheer yellow fabric, were as blatant an invitation as the look in her round brown eyes.
ʺOh, Santiago. I did not expect you to awaken so soon,ʺ she said breathlessly in French.
His eyes raked her from head to toe. ʺWhat were you planning? To bring me breakfast coffee in my room?ʺ
Juliette wanted to scratch the cynical Smirk from his handsome face but smiled wickedly instead. ʺA delightful thought indeed, darling.ʺ She moved closer, raising her hands to his chest. Just as she did so, she caught a faint movement from the top of the stairs behind Quinnhis whore and her bastard!
Before he could push her away, as she realized he was going to do, Juliette seized his hands and laughed playfully. ʺCome, darling,ʺ she said, pulling him toward the doorway, ʺlet us talk in the dining room. I will at least pour you coffee. You do still like it very sweet, do you not?ʺ
Elise froze at the top of the stairs as they vanished around the corner. The aching weakness she had vanquished that morning bore down on her again with a vengeance. When she first awakened, she had felt so much stronger that she had decided to test her wings and walk downstairs. Orlena was so much better, she no longer needed the warm‐water immersion. Elise planned to tell the much-overworked older servants that they need not heat more water. Now, painfully hurt and confused, she turned slowly back to the bedroom, clutching her sleeping daughter to her breast.
Surely Santiago could not want the treacherous Juliette back after the way she had betrayed him! But bits and pieces of memory returned. Castal had told her that Santiago had bedded Juliette. When they fought on that hellish flatboat, he had snarled something about his worthless harlot of a sister. Santiago had sought Juliette out in New Orleans and brought her here. Exactly what was her role in the bloody drama that was yet not concluded?
ʺYou want your child. But do you want meor your first love?ʺ
Santiago shoved Julietteʹs grasping little hands from his neck and pushed her into a chair. Odine and Claudy had made a half‐hearted attempt to clean the cluttered dining room and had arranged a passable breakfast on the sideboard.
Right now, all appetite fled him as he looked down at the scheming bitch who seemed to be slyly smiling about some secret only she was privy to.
ʺSeduction will not work, Julie,ʺ he said wearily in French.
ʺSurely you cannot just ignore our common bonds, our heritage. I was once a foolish girl, forced to do things by Raoul, but nowʺ
ʺNow you are a murderess, involved in a filibuster plot, and you have lost your protector, Clark Jamison. I would not take his place, Julie, even if it were not for Elise and my daughterʺ
ʺThat American trash,ʺ she hissed. ʺShe does not want you.ʺ She will not when I am through with her! ʺForget her.ʺ
ʺI would suggest you eat a hearty breakfast, then have Claudy help you pack what you need. I will take you to Claiborne this afternoon. Let him figure out what the devil to do with you.ʺ With that he left the room, heading for the stable to instruct Rufus to saddle their horses for the ride. Perhaps with the disrupting influence of Juliette gone, he and Elise could work out their problems and decide what to do about Louvois. While he was at it, he would also check on Jacobʹs progress. Juliette seized a delicate china plate from Grandmere Doubertʹs heirloom set and almost flung it at Quinnʹs retreating back, then lowered it. No, she must be cunning. If she could not have the Irishman, she would make damn certain that black‐haired American did not get him! She waited until Santiago disappeared in the direction of the slave cabins, then quickly headed upstairs.
Elise had just finished feeding Orlena and changing her napkin when the door to her room opened. The beautiful Creole stood silhouetted in the doorway, dressed in an elegant riding habit of dark green wool.
A prickle of unease washed over Elise. Was Juliette as deranged as her brother had been? She quickly
laid the baby on the bed and covered her, then turned to stand between the bed and the woman advancing slowly into the room. ʺWhat do you want, Madame Doubert?ʺ
One dark brow arched disdainfully. ʺYou know who I am? I suppose Odine told you I was Gasparʹs sister‐in‐law. But did she also tell you I killed the miserable fop to save Santiagoʹs life?ʺ She watched Elise for some telltale expression which would indicate whether the taciturn old slave had divulged the truth about the fight, but Elise displayed no emotion except a waiting wariness. ʺThe Irishman was my fiancé years before he ever met you. He does not even like Americans.ʺ
A small smile twitched the corners of Eliseʹs mouth. ʺQuinn does not like Spaniards either, nor the French. His loyalties lie with the Apaches.ʺ
Juliette scoffed. ʺHe is Count of Aranda. He will not return to living with savages.ʺ
If Elise knew anything about the enigmatic man she loved, it was that he would never desert the Lipan or his brother and sister in New Mexico. She looked the shallow, beautiful Creole straight in the eye and said levelly, ʹʹIf you hope to make a courtier out of Santiago Quinn, you are in for a great disappointment.ʺ
A slow, catlike smile bowed Julietteʹs lips. She wet them with the tip of her tongue and swished across the floor. ʺI was certainly not disappointed in him as a lover. What a savage he is in bed! And those scars on his backdid his Indians do that to him?ʺ
Her eyes gleamed with a light of sick animal lust that made Eliseʹs stomach clench. ʺSo Raoul was right when he said you were Quinnʹs whore,ʺ she managed in an icy, clipped voice, betraying none of her pain.
ʺYou would call me whoreyou who stand with the very evidence of your stupid lust lying on my bed! I will never be so foolish as to allow even the Irishman to get me with child . . . until we are wed.ʺ
Elise smiled coldly. ʺHe asked me to marry him in New Mexico, before either of us even knew of the child. I refused. If you think he will wed you . . .ʺ She let her words trail off with patronizing disdain. ʺAs I said, you are in for a great disappointment.ʺ
ʺWe shall see who is disappointed. Santiago is waiting right now to ride with me into New Orleans, where we shall book passage on a ship bound for Spain. He grows tired of all the childish intrigues of fools like my brother. Perhaps he shall send for his daughter one day. In the meanwhile, I shall see you are both provided for,ʺ Juliette said with mocking solicitude in her voice.
ʺHow very gracious of you. But then, you do expect to become a countess, do you not? Noblesse oblige? ʺ Eliseʹs violet eyes were round and guileless as she gave her haughty adversary a withering smile.
Juliette felt something had gone not quite as she planned in the interview, but she was not certain exactly where it went wrong. She nodded her head regally and swished from the room, eager to find Santiago and convince him to take her to New Orleans immediately before he had the opportunity to speak with the infuriatingly cool American again.
Quinn thwarted her plans, however, by curtly ordering her to wait downstairs while he bade Elise and his daughter farewell. She fumed in the dusty sitting room, hoping her contrived scene with him that morning and her fabrications to Elise would succeed in driving a wedge between the two.
When Santiago knocked on Eliseʹs door, he realized that he had not felt compelled to do so earlier when he had interrupted the tender tableau of Elise with Orlena at her breast. She was holding him at bay with her own misplaced guilt. Perhaps I am fated to kill that Frenchman if we are ever to settle matters.
When he stepped inside, Elise studied his mended buckskins and boots from the easy chair beside the hearth, where she sat holding the sleeping infant. ʺAre you going somewhere, Santiago?ʺ she asked calmly.
ʺTo the city. Iʹm taking Juliette to the authorities. I should return before dark.
Youʹll be safe here with Rufus and Odine.ʺ
Her throat choked with tears. Damn him. He was not worth this pain! Perhaps Juliette had been telling the truth. She longed to ask him, but if she did, it meant admitting her own vulnerability to the renegade. He followed you, a voice whispered. He came for his child, her own inner fears replied.
ʺWhat do you think Governor Claiborne will do with Madame Doubert?ʺ she asked, testing the waters.
He shrugged. ʺThe whole city is in turmoil. I donʹt know, and I honestly donʹt care.ʺ ʺRather callous of you, querido, ʺ she replied scathingly, ʺconsidering how well you performed in her bed the other night.ʺ She saw him pale and knew the thrust had hit homebut it wounded her as much as it did him.
ʺSo Julie has been up here to feed you her lies, and you believed her,ʺ he said in a tight, sad voice. Damn the bitch!
ʺShe was most convincing. She even knew about the whip scarsʺ
ʺForget Juliette Doubert and her lies. I never bedded the bitch. In fact, I threatened her with Apache torture to get her to betray where her brother had hidden you. How the hell do you think I found this godforsaken place?ʺ
ʺAnd you didnʹt make love to her?ʺ
ʺNo.ʺ He took heart, for his cool Elise was betraying signs of real jealousy. ʺShe threw herself at me in a prearranged attempt to get me to kill her brotherat Jamisonʹs behest. I played along with her until I got her alone. The woman betrayed me ten years ago, Elise. Now sheʹs betrayed her own brother to me. Do you honestly believe I still lust after the spoiled, brainless little slut?ʺ He held his breath, trying to read the emotions on her guarded face.
ʺCold words indeed for the woman who saved your life by shooting Gaspar Doubert,ʺ she replied, daring to hope once more.
He looked at her as if she had grown a third arm and held Orlena with it. Then he burst out laughing. ʺShe told you that?ʺ
ʺWell, did she or did she not?ʺ
His eyes began to take on that old green fire, daring her. ʺTesty, arenʹt we, Elise?
Jealous perhaps?ʺ
ʺYou always answer questions with more questions,ʺ she hissed as her frayed temper threatened to snap. He was laughing at the schoolgirl jealousy she had revealed!
ʺA trick I learned from a certain very clever lady spy. To put an end to this suspicionyes, she did shoot poor Gasparbut she was aiming for me. Juliette never was the markswoman you are, querida.ʺ He walked over to the chair and placed one hand on each arm, leaning over her. Little Orlenaʹs face was serene in sleep now, her tiny rosebud mouth forming a perfect O as she breathed.
He glided his fingers beneath the heavy swaddling and stroked her head. ʺSheʹs growing stronger each day. Soon sheʹll be able to travel.ʺ
Elise stiffened. ʺShe canʹt be separated from me for a long, long while, Santiago,ʺ
she whispered.
He reached up and touched her cheek, then leaned lower, raised her chin with his fingertips and kissed her softly. ʺAnd how strong are you now?ʺ
ʺIn a few weeks, I should be fully recovered, according to Odine. Orlena was so small, the birthing was far harder on her than me.ʺ
ʺIʹll remember that,ʺ he replied huskily. ʺWeʹll talk tonight.ʺ
With the taste of him on her lips, the feel of his hard, virile presence still accelerating her wayward heart, Elise stood at her bedroom window and watched him ride away with Juliette Doubert. ʺHe loves me,ʺ she whispered aloud in the shabby old room. Orlena awakened and began to whimper, as if echoing her motherʹs doubts.
Chapter Thirty‐Three
Evening came and darkness fell with an evil, miasmic fog veiling the chilly spring night. Santiago did not return.
ʺDoan nobody ride de swamps when de fog come down,ʺ Odine said as she placed a dinner tray on the table beside Eliseʹs bed.
ʺYes, Iʹm sure youʹre right, Odine. Heʹll be along in the morning.ʺ
But morning came and went. The fog lifted its thick gray grasp over the plantation, and warm spring sunshine spilled in the windows. Elise tended Orlena, keeping to the bedroom, too dispirited by afternoon to even look out at the winding, weed‐infested pathway.
Odine brought her a simple evening meal of baked chi
cken and sweet potatoes.
She had no appetite, but forced herself to eat all of it so she could feed her daughter. ʺAs soon as youʹre strong enough to travel safely, little one, weʹll go to New Orleans. Governor Claiborne is probably frantic with worry, not to mention Samuel, if he has chanced to return.ʺ Both of them probably cared a great deal more about her than her childʹs own father.
Yet Santiagoʹs parting words haunted her. Weʹll talk tonight. Had he truly intended to return? The road was dangerous in this ghastly, subtropical wilderness, filled with wild boars and alligators and even more menacing men.
What if something had happened to him?
Washington, DC, March 1807
What an idiotic way to die. Samuel Shelby held the flimsy fencing foil with its deadly point gleaming in the hazy morning sunrise. He would much prefer his sturdy cavalry saber, but since it was he who was the challenger, the choice of weapons had been his opponentʹs.
He examined the slightly overweight man with graying dark hair and a meticulously groomed moustache over his fleshy lips. His eyes were as pale as dirty ice and twice as cold. There was a constrained desperation etched into every dissipated line in his face, every movement of his once splendid physique.
You may have the advantage of weapons, but I have youth and reflexes on my side, Shelby thought. That and a killing rage to destroy this monster. Just thinking of what he must have put Liza through for all those years made him want to slice Edouard Louvois to ribbons. Years of military discipline helped him bring his emotions under control. He must destroy this obscenity posing as a man and free his sister once and for all.
He listened to the instructions being recited by rote, then heard the command, ʺ En garde.ʺ Louvois, confident that his skills were far superior to those of Eliseʹs crude backwoods brother, took the offensive. The metallic clash of foils rang out across the clearing. They circled, taking each otherʹs measure for a few moments.
Neither scored a significant hit as they thrust and parried, but the Frenchman nicked Samuel several times.