by Connie Mason
“I know, Alexa,” Mac acknowledged softly. “I’ve known for some time.”
“You must hate me.”
How could she think such a thing? “Not you, milady, never you,” came Mac’s impassioned reply. “Only Adam for taking advantage of you and then abandoning you without a thought for what might occur.”
“He didn’t know.”
“Don’t make excuses for that blackguard. He should have anticipated that possibility and made provisions.”
“I was going to tell him but he left without so much as a good-bye. Besides,” Alexa said bitterly, “it would have made little difference to Adam. Knowledge that he had sired a child upon me would only serve to sweeten his revenge.”
“Perhaps you do him an injustice,” suggested Mac.
“We both know I meant nothing more to Adam than a means of getting to my father. This baby is mine and mine alone. I’ll raise it to the best of my ability.”
Mac marveled at Alexa’s courage in the face of such adversity and he was determined that she would not suffer because she was unfortunate enough to be born the daughter of Sir John Ashley. Nor would her child. But for the time being Mac thought it best to keep his plans to himself for he knew Alexa would never agree to them.
“Alexa, you must know I’d never abandon you,” Mac said tenderly. “I will do whatever is necessary to help you.” And hope you don’t hate me for it later, he silently added.
Somehow Alexa was comforted by the knowledge that Mac shared her secret. Whatever Mac was, pirate or no, he was her friend and could be depended upon for help.
They were nearly within sight of land when the Lady A crossed the path of an English merchantman. The first sign Alexa had of any trouble was the loud cheer arising from the men on deck who had been itching for a chance to engage the enemy in battle. She watched from the safety of the passage as Mac readied his ship for battle. It was obvious to Alexa that Mac had learned much during his years of tutelage under the Fox aboard his Gray Ghost.
The crew immediately sprang into action, loading and priming the twenty-four eighteen-pounders on the upper deck and eight nine-pounders on the quarterdeck. A brace of pistols and cutlass were strapped about each man’s waist in anticipation of hand-to-hand combat.
Before allowing the British ship the advantage. Mac turned the Lady A leeward and ordered a warning shot fired across the bow. “Strike the colors!” he yelled to his crew. Immediately the Stars and Stripes were hoisted up the flagpole, caught the breeze and waved proudly above the Lady A. The British ship returned a warning shot of her own.
“Look lively, men, we’re coming about!” shouted Mac as he brought the sails into the wind, coming up almost on the prow of the enemy ship. “Fire your guns on the swivel deck!” came the crisp order.
The volley that followed rendered the merchantman nearly helpless. Mac ordered the sails lowered as he came up against the hull of the English ship which was unable to fire her guns, for by that time the Lady A was far too near. Much to the chagrin of the American sailors the fight was finished before it really began.
In quick order a boarding party led by Mac leaped nimbly across the short distance separating the two ships and swiftly subdued the last pocket of resistance. After impressed American seamen were ferreted out, the remaining English crewmen were set adrift in their longboats to be picked up by another of their ships in the vicinity while Mac made an inspection of the merchantman’s cargo. He was well pleased with the variety of goods he found aboard which would bring a good price in the West Indies.
A skeleton crew was put aboard the merchantman to sail her to Barbados and dispose of her cargo. Because the ship was old and slow, Mac thought it best to sell her also. It was a good day’s work and each crew member would be richer for their efforts, Mac mused happily as he watched the merchantman sail away manned by his most trusted men.
Nearly six weeks to the day that the Lady A left London, the first green crescent of land came into view. But to Alexa’s surprise the ship did not make for port but maintained a course parallel to the coast. When questioned, Mac explained his tactics.
“Just before I arrived at Penwell Castle to take you back to London, I saw Captain John Paul Jones of the Continental navy, who with a small squadron based on French soil carries on a series of raids against British coastal shipping. Fox and I are part of his operation-harassing British ships close to their own shores. Just this year France allied herself with the colonies so that the British not only had to contend with the colonies but with the French fleet.
“Captain Jones had recently received a dispatch outlining plans of a British expeditionary corps to march into Savannah in late fall. It’s already December and I have no idea what I’ll find if we sail directly into Savannah Harbor.”
Alexa slowly digested all this, then suddenly something clicked in her brain. “Savannah! That’s not in Virginia!”
Mac smiled slyly. “It’s in Georgia, milady.”
“But … I don’t understand,” said Alexa warily. “I thought we were going to Virginia.”
“A slight change in plans, Alexa. One that will work well in your favor. Trust me, I would do nothing that would harm you,” he assured her most emphatically.
Alexa shrugged. What did it matter where she went? One place would serve her purposes as well as another. She would pose as a young widow expecting a child and hope to find work eventually.
The Lady A appeared to hover just out of sight of land until nightfall. Only then did she cautiously nose toward shore. Under cover of darkness the ship unerringly made her way into a small cove with an opening barely discernible to the eye. Alexa held her breath as the ship gracefully traversed the coral reef and finally bumped against a dock in the deep but small body of water that Mac told her had been dredged out to accommodate a sailing vessel the size of the Lady A. It was on private property and not many people knew of its existence.
“On whose land is it?” Alexa asked curiously.
“It belongs to a friend of mine,” Mac murmured non-committally. “Are your bags packed, Alexa? We will be going ashore soon.”
“Aren’t we going to Savannah?”
Mac gave her a oblique look. “No, I’ll leave you off here. You’ll be safe enough.”
“But … are you staying here too?” A shiver of foreboding shook Alexa’s small frame and she pulled her cloak tighter about her slender shoulders. Some innate sense warned her that everything was not as it should be. Surely Mac wouldn’t lie to her, would he?
“Alexa. I have to see to the docking right now. But the moment we are ashore, I promise to tell you everything.”
Not entirely satisfied but unable to persuade Mac otherwise, Alexa returned to her cabin to finish her packing. By now she had let out every one of her dresses and her pregnancy could no longer be concealed beneath her skirts nor covered by her cloak. Well into her fifth month, her waistline had virtually disappeared. Somehow, during the weeks of the voyage the baby growing beneath her heart had become very precious to her. A tiny entity with a character all its own, living, breathing, taking nourishment from her own body. Against her will Alexa began to love the tiny being, to wonder what he or she would look like. Which invariably led her to thoughts of Adam. From there everything became muddled as images of Fox warred within her brain for prominence. Most times her child looked like Adam. But at other times she pictured her baby’s face as being completely featureless, for she had no idea what Fox looked like.
A short while later Alexa’s baggage was set ashore on the dock and then Mac came for her. Glancing at her warily he grasped her hand and guided her down the gangplank. Once on land he hesitated for a moment then led her along a well-defined path that crunched beneath her feet.
“Seashells,” Mac smiled, sensing her question.
“Where are we going, Mac? It’s so dark I can barely see the path.”
“Just hang on and follow me, milady. I know this path well. You’ll see the house as we come out of the
woods.”
Suddenly Alexa balked, her mouth set in stubborn lines. “I will go no farther, Mac, until you tell me where we are going. I think I’ve been patient long enough. What is all the mystery about?”
Mac sighed regretfully. What he was about to tell Alexa was sure to shock and anger her. Alexa, I hope you won’t hate me for what I’ve done but it’s what I judged best for you and your child. One day you’ll thank me.”
Not only did Mac’s words confound Alexa, but she felt as if a hand had closed around her throat. Frantically she searched for a meaning behind his words. “What … what are you talking about? Why should I be angry with you?”
While they talked Mac urged her along the path, and unconsciously she followed. Suddenly they came out of the woods and onto the well-kept grounds surrounding an imposing two-story house whose every room blazed with the light from thousands of candles. Dozens of coaches lined the curving driveway and it was apparent a party was in progress.
“Jesus!” breathed Mac irreverently. “I hope it’s not too late.”
“Too late for what?” Exasperation furrowed Alexa’s fine brow. “Whose house is this?”
“Alexa, these lands belong to Adam and this is his house.” Mac held his breath, waiting for the inevitable outburst. He was not disappointed.
“What? You’ve brought me to Adam? Damn you, Mac. I trusted you! What do you expect to gain from this? Or will you enjoy watching my humiliation when Adam turns me out?”
“Alexa, give me credit for something. I think I know Adam better than you do. He won’t turn you out. I … I believe he’ll do the right thing if it’s not too late.”
“To late for what?” she repeated. “You’re talking in riddles again.”
“Alexa, I’m asking you to trust my judgment. I’d never leave you stranded should Adam prove me wrong. What have you got to lose?”
“My pride!” bristled Alexa angrily. “Adam Foxworth has taken everything else and I’ll be damned if I’ll give him that, too!”
“You’re coming with me even if I have to carry you the rest of the way!” Mac insisted, determination hardening his features. “Which will it be, Alexa? Will you go under your own power or must I prove my strength to you?”
Tossing her head to show her defiance, Alexa reluctantly moved forward. Mac smiled indulgently as he followed. He loved her most when her eyes spit violet flames and her cheeks burned with anger. A spirit such as hers could never be quelled. Beneath his breath he prayed he was doing the right thing, that it wasn’t too late, for he was privy to Adam’s plans for his future. But most of all he prayed that he wasn’t thrusting Alexa into a situation more volatile than the one in which she now existed.
7
Savannah 1778
By all accounts this should be one of the happiest moments in Adam Foxworth’s life. To be sure the stately blond on his arm was the most beautiful woman in the room. The perfection of her face and figure was certainly not lost on Adam. Nor was the fact that she was passionate in bed, for he had tested her charms often enough in the past weeks.
The lady was Gwendolyn Wright, niece of the royal governor who even now waited to announce the engagement of Lady Gwen to Adam Foxworth, Earl of Penwell and staunch Tory. It was an advantageous match which would bring Adam a large dowry in addition to entrance to all the prominent Tory homes in Savannah.
Until Adam had inherited a title he was just another Colonial, but since returning from England he had been besieged by royalists to join their inner ranks. He was acquainted with Lady Gwen before he left for England but it was not until he returned that he was in a position to offer marriage. All his scheming had worked out beautifully, Adam congratulated himself as he smiled blandly at his beaming fiancée.
But if the truth be known. Adam was far from pleased with himself. Inexplicably his thoughts flew back over the water to a raven-haired, violet-eyed girl whom he had callously used and discarded. The experience left a slightly bitter taste in his mouth. The knowledge that he was capable of employing such dirty tactics to gain his own ends had wrought subtle changes in Adam. For one, there was a certain ruthlessness in him now that was more refined. For another, he completely disregarded the feelings of others.
And at the root of it all was a woman. There had been many women in his life and he could not remember what most looked like, including the woman beside him who faded from his memory the moment they parted. But at any given time he could conjure up Alexa’s beauty in perfect detail. She haunted his dreams until he grew to hate the vivid memory of her soft, warm body entwined intimately with his.
Their final night together Adam had attempted to demonstrate by his actions that she had no place in his life, and looking at her face when he took her callously, without apparent regard for her feelings, he was certain he had succeeded. No doubt by now Alexa was married to her Charles and could be carrying his seed. Somehow the thought was not comforting. Not once did the thought enter Adam’s mind that Alexa could have conceived as a result of their own numerous couplings.
He was distracted from his bleak ruminations when the slim blond at his side nudged him with her elbow. “Adam, darling.” Gwen pouted prettily, “where are your thoughts? Two of Uncle James’s friends just spoke to you and you completely ignored them.”
“I’ve been thinking of us, my sweet,” Adam lied smoothly. “Soon it will be time for Sir James to announce our engagement.”
“It can’t be too soon for me,” riposted Gwen, her clear blue eyes promising delights yet to come. “I want to be with you every night, not just on those occasions when we can slip away for a few hours.”
“So do I, my sweet,” Adam allowed cryptically, “More than you’ll ever know.”
Lady Gwendolyn Wright, the beautiful, pampered niece of Governor James Wright, had accompanied her uncle to the colonies to act as his official hostess since the governor’s wife had died leaving no children. She became the immediate toast of Savannah, wined and dined by prominent Whigs and Tories alike. But her bright blue gaze fell upon Adam Foxworth and there it remained, though it wasn’t until Adam had suddenly inherited a title and lands in England that Gwen’s uncle had pronounced Adam a suitable husband for his beloved Gwen.
Adam’s inheritance had changed his position in life overnight. Until Adam hinted he could offer much more after his return from England. Gwen had seriously considered accepting the proposal of Captain Lance Barrington who sprang from illustrious parentage. Although pushing twenty-six, Gwen waited and had not been sorry. Upon Adam’s return they became lovers: shortly afterwards he proposed, and Gwen promptly accepted. Of course, Lance had been livid with rage at Gwen’s reversal, but with Adam an earl there was nothing he could do about it.
Aware that many of his guests were looking at him expectantly, Adam decided that the moment had arrived to signal Governor Wright to make his announcement. His hand already extended to alert the governor, Adam’s motion was halted before it could be completed by Jem, his butler, who approached his master with a puzzled look on his broad, black face.
“You have guests, Mastah Adam,” Jem announced hesitantly.
“Show them in, Jem,” Adam whispered, annoyed by Jem’s sudden lack of protocol.
“They insist on seeing you alone,” informed Jem. “I showed them to the study. I hope that’s all right. Mastah Adam.”
Adam nodded curtly, spoke a few words to a thoroughly disgruntled Gwen and followed Jem from the crowded ballroom. “Who are my mysterious visitors. Jem? Do you know them?”
“It’s Mastah Mac, suh, and a lady I never saw before.”
“Mac is here?” enthused Adam, hastening his steps. “Why didn’t you say so? And you say he has a lady with him? That devil!” Adam grinned roguishly.
“Mac!” greeted Adam exuberantly as he burst into the study. “You sly dog! What are you doing here? I thought you were for Virginia.”
If Mac’s greeting was less than enthusiastic Adam seemed not to notice. Thus far he had not seen
Alexa who had removed her cloak in the warm room and stood slightly behind Adam clutching the back of a chair.
No man has a right to be so outrageously handsome, Alexa thought distractedly. His thick tawny hair barely brushed his collar and was unpowdered. His nose was classic, straight as a blade, and arrogant, while the harsh lines of his broad cheekbones and wide brows could have been sculpted by a master. Elegantly clad for the occasion, his garments were neither gaudy nor elaborate, yet molded and enhanced his muscular form perfectly. Her heart jolted and her pulse pounded. Suddenly Alexa was anxious to leave his disturbing presence.
“You and your lady are just in time to join the party.” Adam smiled.
“I’d hardly feel comfortable with all your Tory friends,” answered Mac jerkily. “We travel in different worlds now, Adam.”
Adam fixed Mac with a baleful glare, then shrugged. “Where is the lady Jem told me about? Introduce us,” he said, whirling to search the room for Mac’s elusive lady. Finally he spotted her and his steady gaze bore into her with silent astonishment. Slowly his eyes dropped from her face to her breasts, and finally to her protruding stomach. Tearing his gaze from Alexa’s obviously pregnant form, Adam turned and glared defiantly at Mac.
“What in the hell is she doing here, Mac?” he gritted out angrily. “Why didn’t you leave her where she belongs? I should have known from the beginning that your interest in the lady was more than passing.”
“You bastard!” retaliated Mac. “Can’t you see Alexa is pregnant? She’s carrying your child, Adam. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
Adam had the decency to flush guiltily. “You know my plans, Mac.”
“Change them, damn it! You owe. Alexa. Her father turned her out, she has no place to go.”
“So she came crying to your for sympathy! You always were a fool over a pretty face and tears. What in the hell do you expect me to do?”
“The right thing, Adam,” Mac insisted quietly.
Suddenly Alexa gained her wits and stepped forward, red dots of rage exploding behind her eyes. “Both of you, stop it! How dare you talk in front of me as if I didn’t exist! I never intended to come here, Adam. Mac took it upon himself to bring me here against my will. I had no say in the matter. Besides, I knew I was expecting your child before you left Penwell Castle but I chose not to tell you. You owe me nothing because that’s exactly what I want from you.”