"Some rooms have become available. I've secured them for Lila and her daughter, at least until we can gather some information."
Isabeau sat down, then Hawk followed suit, taking the chair next to Lila. "I've explained to Isabeau it may take several days to make the necessary inquiries about your husband's family." Hawk rose to his feet. "I have several matters to attend to, so if you ladies will excuse me for the remainder of the afternoon, I'll proceed with this immediately."
Lila nodded timidly, but did not speak. A quick glance told Isabeau the woman appeared on the verge of tears.
Hawk handed Isabeau a key. "Perhaps you can help Lila and Megan get settled," he said. Clearing his throat, he seemed to be almost ill at ease. "I took the liberty of explaining that you two were family members and to be treated accordingly. I have no wish for your reputations to suffer." His words were directed at Isabeau, though she sensed it was to put the other woman at ease.
Nodding in silent agreement, Isabeau pocketed the key and guided Lila from the lobby. Throwing one last look over her shoulder, she saw Hawk go out the main door onto the street. Isabeau swelled with pride. She had known Hawk would help. His heart was also easily involved.
Turning her attention back to her two companions, she said brightly, "I think you'll feel better after a hot bath and something to eat."
When they reached the top of the stairs, Isabeau lifted a hand to smooth her hair. Grimacing, she decided the sooner she could take a hot bath the better she would like it.
Still looking incredibly miserable, Lila preceded Isabeau into the airy suite of rooms.
After settling the still-drowsy child on the large bed, Lila sank down into a plush, rose colored tapestry chair, hands to her mouth as tears rolled slowly down her pale cheeks.
"Lila!" Isabeau exclaimed, moving to sit beside her, "what's the matter?"
Trying to wipe away the tears, Lila's eyes met hers. "All this," she finally blurted, throwing her arms wide. "I'm so afraid. No one gives all this without exacting payment of some kind."
Light dawning, Isabeau sought to reassure her. "I suppose you're right," she admitted slowly, "in most cases. However, Hawk is an honorable man. Without getting into a life history, not too long ago I found myself with something of a problem. I, er . . . kind of stowed away on one of his ships. They found me and could have turned me over to the authorities or dumped me anywhere." She thought it prudent to only give the bare details.
"Mr. Morgan allowed you to stay in his home while you searched for your friend?" Lila asked incredulously.
Isabeau grinned, nodding. "Yes."
"It is so incredible!" Lila exclaimed. "We find you by a mere stroke of luck, and events are moving like a whirlwind. I am afraid I shall wake up and find this didn't happen at all." Her lips started to tremble. "I am afraid I will find myself back in that shanty down by the river."
"This is real," Isabeau said softly, squeezing her hand.
"I don't wish to be a burden to Mr. Morgan," Lila choked out, bending her head. "For my daughter's sake, I pray we yet have a future to look forward to."
Isabeau persuaded the other woman to have a hot bath, then left the suite with the promise to return in time to share dinner with them.
She owed Hawk an explanation, so she hurried to his suite on the next floor, anxious now to get it out of the way. She had no doubt he would be furious all over again.
When Isabeau arrived, the suite was unoccupied and the door unlocked. She supposed locks were not a necessity, but in her own time she was used to chains and locks as a necessary evil.
Deciding she had the perfect opportunity to get herself cleaned up, Isabeau went to her room and drew a hot bath, pleased with the fairly modern plumbing.
Several washings later, it was an immense relief to feel her hair clean once more. Rising from the cooling water she stepped from the tub, rubbing the heel of her palms over her eyes and across her face. Reaching for the towel on the warming rack, Isabeau wrapped herself in a large towel.
One moment she thought she was alone, the next Isabeau saw a figure rush toward her in a blur of motion. Frightened, she turned to run, but the intruder grabbed her from behind, encircling her neck with his arm. He pulled her back against him. Her shriek of rage and fear was cut short as her mouth was quickly covered with a gloved hand.
Terrified, Isabeau turned her head, briefly saw brown eyes, but a scarf concealed the lower part of his face.
Desperately, she twisted sideways and loosened her grip on the towel. As it fell to the floor her captor's eyes widened incredulously. She felt a vicious pleasure as, taking advantage of his momentary surprise, she brought her knee up hard and fast, satisfied when she connected with his groin. Her assailant doubled over in pain and Isabeau fled the room.
Half-hysterically, she again thanked Leif for persuading her to take street fighting classes as a means of self defense.
As she cleared the doorway, Isabeau ran into a hard bulk and stopped.
"I'm happy to see you too, sweetheart," a husky voice murmured as familiar arms enclosed and steadied her.
"Hawk!" She felt him stiffen as he looked past her.
"What the hell --" The pleasure in his initial greeting changed to violence as he set her aside and lunged after the figure trying to exit through the bathroom window.
Isabeau quickly retrieved a clean towel.
Grabbing the intruder by the back of his shirt, Hawk yanked him back into the room. The man fell, landing heavily on his side, his boots sliding on the ceramic flooring as he tried to bolt. Hawk grabbed the man's arm and twisted it up behind his back.
"Let go, you're breaking my arm!" the intruder cried out.
"Who the hell sent you here?"
"Don't know."
Hawk pulled the man's arm up tighter and the man yelped, coming up on his toes. "Who?" Hawk asked again.
"Somebody hired me to nab her, that's all I know. I was supposed to drop her in the river. Here, look in my pocket." He tried to indicate his right front pants pocket. "The note and money's in there. I was to get the other half of it when the job was done."
Hawk looked at Isabeau. She had moved to the sitting room couch and huddled on it, her eyes wide. He pulled the man into the other room.
"What's your name?"
"Lonnie Becker."
"Well, Lonnie, I hope you're prepared to spend the night in a cold, damp cell."
"Now, wait a minute, here. I came clean with you, and no harm's been done --"
"Maybe sitting in a New York holding cell will refresh your memory as to who hired you and why."
"All I know was I'm supposed to get rid of her."
Isabeau closed her bedroom door. Her whole body was ice. The shivering wouldn't stop. Ignoring the scuffling in the hallway she huddled into the towel.
She twisted around when she heard a footstep behind her. It was Hawk. Gently, he pulled the towel closer, up under her chin, then grabbed a blanket from the bed and covered her with that also.
Her eyes clung to him, unable to control her chattering teeth.
He lifted her and carried her to the settee and settled the blanket around her. Kneeling down before the hearth he started a fire. Moving back to her, Hawk lifted a glass to her mouth.
Isabeau gulped the liquid, then gasped, feeling it tear a fiery path all the way to her stomach.
She pushed his hand away and sat up. "No more," she whispered.
"Malry's out there and I handed the guy over to him. I've told him to keep an eye out for any other intruders, but I think this man was alone."
Isabeau relaxed, closing her eyes. At least some of the shivering had quieted. Hawk put more wood on the fire, pulling the blanket closer about her shoulders. He lifted her feet and put them across his legs, carefully tucking the soft blanket around her cold feet. He was taking care of her. She swallowed past the lump tightening her throat. She wanted nothing more than to be with him.
When he pulled her close, Isabeau closed her eyes, kno
wing no matter what, this is where she wanted to be.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded.
"I let myself in with the key. Do you know how he came in?"
"I guess the bathroom window. I thought I'd take a bath and get cleaned up." She closed her eyes again and snuggled up to him, feeling incredibly drowsy all of a sudden. "When I got out of the bath, he was suddenly there." She moved into a more upright position. "He put his arm around my neck. I-I couldn't breathe." She heard the shakiness of her voice and cleared her throat.
"Did he hurt you?"
Isabeau shook her head, a semblance of a grin lighting her face. "I kneed him in the groin."
He grimaced. "Remind me never to get in a fight with you."
Isabeau heard the outer door in the next room open. Hawk got up and walked into the other room. She was aware of a short conversation, but she couldn't make out the words.
Hawk reentered the room. Isabeau could tell by the look on his face he was not happy with what he had learned.
"The man insists an anonymous person left him the note and money, promising more if he'd get rid of Hawk Morgan's woman." Grimly, he stared at the fire. "Why the hell would they target you now?"
Isabeau stood up. "Maybe because they know I've been able to prevent you from being hurt on two different occasions," she said in a low voice, her entire body shaking. "I'm an extra pair of eyes."
"The only ones who would know that would be family or servants."
Hawk put his hand on her arm. "I'm calling the doctor back and have him check you out."
She shook her head. "No, I'm fine."
"Maybe it was the same person who grabbed you last night," Hawk said. "They know you're here with me."
She laughed shakily. "It wasn't the same person."
"What the devil! The sooner we leave this place, the better I'll like it."
Isabeau nodded in agreement. It had been one hell of a week, all around. "Let me get dressed, then I'll tell you what happened."
She went into her room and looked through the clothes Hawk had purchased for her. She put on a simple black dress trimmed around the neck and sleeves with ivory lace. She was actually getting used to playing dress up. The dress fit her perfectly, its dropped waist complimenting her slimness.
Hawk was seated at the desk when she reentered the suite, writing in his journal. From across the room, Isabeau could see the discarded gold band as it lay on the wooden surface of the desk, brightly gleaming as the light caught it.
She moved over to him and picked up the band to run her fingers experimentally over the green stone.
"It's an emerald."
She looked at him in surprise, smoothing the stone against her palm. "It doesn't really look like one."
"It's rough cut."
"Where did you get it?" Curiously, Isabeau held it up to the light.
Hawk stood up, his eyes running appreciatively over her. "Hawk won it in a wager."
With a frown, she placed the band back on the desk. "Why did you say it like that?"
"We have much to talk about, but you first."
She drew a fortifying breath. "While I was waiting for you on board, I read part of your journal." She turned away, loathe to see his disappointment. "I know I shouldn't have, but I did. There's no excuse. I don't blame you if you're angry," she finished shortly, looking at him over her shoulder. "I'd be angry if the situation was reversed."
"There are things in there no one should ever read," he said, his face expressionless.
Isabeau bent her head. "To tell you the truth, I felt ill. Having read the first page, I wanted to stop, but I didn't. I was afraid and curious at the same time. What you've been through," she whispered brokenly.
Hawk tipped her chin back with his finger. "Before you go any further, we have to discuss my past and my amnesia."
"You have to let me get this out. I came here to tell you everything. Last night," she swallowed hard, "after we made love and you argued with Malry, I went for a walk to clear my head."
Hawk leaned against the desk, arms crossed in front of him.
"I took a walk down the boulevard. I walked further than I realized. I was getting ready to come back, but I was waylaid." She clasped and unclasped her hands.
"Waylaid?" His manner was less than encouraging.
"Well, yes -- I was preoccupied, and then I stopped to watch a little show in the park. There was quite a crowd, it seemed safe, then suddenly some men grabbed me."
Hawk idly rolled a pen on the desk surface.
"They grabbed you?" he repeated quietly.
"They dragged me into an alley."
He clenched the pen in his hand. "And then?"
"They covered my head with a sack, trussed me up like a Thanksgiving turkey, and put me in a rowboat. They rowed to a bigger ship in the harbor and made me climb up the side. At which point -- " she lowered her voice, "-- at which point, I decided enough was enough and evaded them and swam for shore."
She dropped into a chair.
"How did you get away if you had just climbed up the side of the ship?"
"I was only halfway up the ladder. I dove into the water."
Hawk took a moment to swallow hard, knuckles white on the wood of the desk.
"Do you know the name of the ship?"
"No."
"How many men?"
"Two."
"Did you see their faces?"
"One was Connors."
"Malry!"
She jumped at his sudden bellow.
The outer door of the suite opened, and Malry ushered two men before him. They moved into the room with a shuffling gait.
Isabeau drew a startled breath and stepped back hurriedly. Hawk's hand cupped her shoulder in reassurance.
Connors, looking quite rough and wearing a black eye, was shackled hand and foot with another man, hence the awkward entrance. A uniformed guard stood on either side of them just inside the threshold of the door. Other than a betraying narrowing of mean eyes, Connors showed no reaction to her presence.
"Are these the men?" Hawk inquired mildly, still in that strangely detached voice.
"Him," she pointed to Connors. "The other one, I'm not sure."
Hawk approached the two men. "Well, gentlemen, since you were working together this morning, I assume it was you scouring the streets last night in search of prey."
"I told him Cap'n wouldna want a woman on board," the taller of the men mumbled, hunching his shoulders away from Connors.
"Shut up!" Connors hissed.
"I'm afraid you men will be out of circulation for some time," Hawk murmured mildly, motioning for them to be taken out.
They left and the door closed.
"So you knew all along," Isabeau stated quietly, collapsing into a chair, peeved that he had let her ramble through her attempt at an explanation. "I wonder how Connors got the black eye," she muttered, disgruntled. "I would've liked to do that myself."
"If you like, I'll have him brought back and you can blacken the other eye," Hawk offered obligingly.
Eyes wide, Isabeau spun to face him, suddenly realizing the tight rein he held on his temper, a control which seemed to dissipate as he proceeded to drive a clenched fist into the wood of the closed door. Isabeau winced for him as she stared at his bleeding knuckles.
She had an idea how Connors had received a black eye.
"Hawk?" Hesitantly, she approached him. "How did you find out those men were responsible?"
He dropped all pretense of calm, letting her see the anger seething within. "Malry has several …connections. When inquiries were made on the street, this is what trash turned up. Needless to say, I was astounded to meet up again with Connors. The captain of the ship will also be questioned, although they haven't discovered his whereabouts yet. If he is involved, he'll also be arrested.
"Isabeau, you have no idea the luck of your escape. Dammit! No one will ever know how many young boys alone have been impressed…they may be out to sea f
or years!"
Tentatively, Isabeau whispered, "Is--is that what happened to you?"
His head swiveled around, dark eyes rooting her to the spot with a piercing glitter. "You're talking about what you read in the journal," he stated.
"It's true, isn't it? You recorded everything in your journal. That's when you began to keep a journal, when you were imprisoned at sea?"
"Hawk kept an account of his struggle to survive," he allowed, frowning.
Tentatively, Isabeau said, "I get the idea it's not something you want to talk about. That's the second time you've referred to it as if it were someone other than yourself. I know it's got to be a painful, terrible memory, but to pretend it's another person --"
"It is," he said.
Isabeau shook her head, a tight ache in her chest. "Please, Hawk, don't deny it. I read how you were beaten when you tried to escape. Was the captain who impressed you ever caught and brought to trial?"
"He had his day of justice." Hawk's brows were drawn together in a formidable line.
"Then why deny it?"
"You're misunderstanding me, Isabeau, and I'm not explaining very well. I'm not denying anything. Everything you read in the beginning of that journal happened to Hawk Morgan. It is all true."
Isabeau felt her heart pick up a weird pace, fast, then slow. Her throat felt dry and her scalp began to tingle. She felt strangely lightheaded. "What are you saying?"
"I'm not Hawk Morgan."
Chapter Fourteen
Isabeau gaped at him, shocked. "Not Hawk -- b-but, who are you?"
"My name is Pierce. Pierce Morgan. Just as you named me when we first met."
Isabeau shook her head. "No, no -- you can't be Pierce. He's back where I belong in the future, or ahead in the future --" she shook her head in confusion. "He invited us to his home."
She rubbed her forehead. "This just can't be happening. Maybe I need to see a shrink. Maybe when I get back to the present -- oh, my God," she cried, "what is happening?" She paced the floor, trying to clear her thoughts.
He reached forward and gripped her hands in his own.
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