by Connie Mason
Once their passion was temporarily sated, Adam told Alexa that Cornwallis had retired to Yorktown to rest and await developments. Alexa was happy to learn that Adam would remain at Foxworth plantation until the Ghost’s arrival in about four weeks. It was a time of renewal for them—a month in which Adam rarely ventured to Savannah, devoting his days and nights to his wife. Until one day their bubble unexpectedly burst with disastrous results.
That day in August of 1781 dawned clear and hot like so many other summer days in Georgia. Adam had arisen early as was his custom and, taking advantage of his time on the plantation, was in the fields with Forbes, catching up on the workings of his large holdings. Alexa, finding time heavy on her hands that particular morning, wandered into the study, one of her favorite places because it was quietly located in the rear of the house and accessible not only through the door off the hallway but by French doors opening into the garden. When Adam was in the fields he often came into the house through the garden entrance, since it was closer than going around to the front or entering through the kitchen and disrupting the servants.
Overcome by a strange restlessness Alexa wandered about the familiar room, touching objects Adam had touched, sniffing the pleasant odors of leather and tobacco, wishing he were with her to still the unexplained tension that had gripped her from the moment she lifted her head from the pillow this morning.
Alexa smiled a secret smile, her hand splayed across her flat stomach. She couldn’t wait to see Adam’s face when she told him of her suspicions. She hoped he would be as pleased as she to learn she was expecting a child. According to her calculations it had happened on the island. She had deliberately waited to tell him until she was certain. There was no longer any need to wait. In seven months she would bear Adam’s child.
So engrossed was she in her thoughts of bearing Adam a healthy baby that she failed to hear the altercation taking place at the front of the house. She had no notion of what was transpiring until the door to the study flung wide to admit a fuming Gwen. Jem followed helplessly in her wake, sputtering. “I’m sorry. Mistress Katy. I told Lady Gwen that Mastah Adam was in the fields but she insisted on waiting in here for him.”
Alexa felt the color drain from her face. The last person in the world she expected to see this morning was Lady Gwen. Courage, Alexa, she told herself, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. If she passed the test with Gwen it was unlikely she would be recognized by anyone else in Savannah.
“So, it’s true!” Gwen ground out from between clenched teeth as she glared contemptuously at Alexa.
“I beg your pardon,” replied Alexa, feigning ignorance. “Who are you?”
“I am Lady Gwen Wright. Lord Penwell’s fiancée,” declared Gwen boldly, “and you don’t have to tell me who you are. I heard from my dressmaker that Adam recently purchased a gown for some woman. It wasn’t for me so I concluded he must have a mistress tucked away here at Foxworth Manor. How convenient for him.”
Alexa flushed but refused to be cowed by Gwen’s snide remarks. “Adam’s financée?” she questioned guilelessly. “I was under the impression that Adam already had a wife.”
“He did have a wife but she is dead. She was a traitor and rescued on the eve of her hanging by a pirate. Nothing has been heard of her for years and Adam is convinced she is no longer alive.”
“I see,” was all Alexa said, turning her face so her long, blond hair partially obscured her features.
“Where did Adam find a lowborn slut like you?” demanded Gwen disparagingly. Alexa refused to rise to the bait, further angering Gwen. “Probably on one of those mysterious trips of his,” she sniffed, answering her own question, “that he takes so frequently. Where is your lover?”
“Adam is in the fields, just as Jem told you. No doubt he’ll be back shortly. Do you wish to wait?”
While Alexa spoke in a soft, whispery voice she hoped would fool Gwen, a nagging suspicion tugged at the haughty Englishwoman and she peered sharply at the beautiful blond, her eyes narrowed in thought. “Do I know you?” she asked, observing Alexa closely. “For some reason you look familiar.”
“No, I’ve never seen you before,” insisted Alexa, stifling the urge to run as far away as she could in order to escape Lady Gwen’s sharp eyes. “I’ve just recently come down from Charleston.”
“So, that’s where Adam found you,” Gwen snarled, in her anger forgetting Alexa’s similarity to someone she was certain she knew. “In some brothel, no doubt.”
Alexa lowered her head, blushing, which to Gwen was a near admission of guilt. “Ha! I knew it!” crowed Gwen triumphantly. “Surely you must know that a whore like yourself can mean nothing to a man like Lord Penwell no matter how beautiful … Adam and I are to be married soon and I suggest you leave of your own accord while you are still able.”
Gwen’s thinly veiled threat hung in the air like heady autumn smoke. “I will leave when Adam tells me to and not before,” Alexa declared, her voice laced with loathing. Try as she might Alexa could not forget that the despicable Englishwoman standing before her had intimate knowledge of Adam’s love.
“I don’t believe I’ll wait for Adam after all,” Gwen announced. “It’s degrading to me to remain in the same room with his whore. Tell him for me he has much explaining to do and I’ll expect him in Savannah within the next twenty-four hours or our engagement is off.”
“Somehow I don’t think Adam will care,” replied Alexa softly. Highly insulted as well and enraged at Adam, Gwen turned and flounced from the room in a snit, unaware that she had dropped her reticule just outside the door in her haste to leave Alexa’s daunting presence.
The moment Gwen rushed from the room Alexa’s knees began to wobble and she clutched at the back of a chair to keep from collapsing. For one awkward moment during the entire interchange Alexa feared Gwen had seen through her feeble attempt to disguise her true identity. After all, she had done little more than bleach her hair. But thankfully, Gwen’s anger had prevented her from delving too deeply into her memory.
Suddenly a loud voice interrupted her ruminations. “Alexa, my love, look who’s here!” Alexa whirled as Adam came striding through the French doors followed by Mac and Drake. “I thought I’d find you here,” Adam grinned, slipping an arm about her slim waist.
“Adam, please be quiet,” Alexa warned, placing a finger to his lips. “Gwen was just here.”
“I know,” Adam replied, “we saw her carriage drive off as we came through the fields. What did she want? Did she recognize you?”
“I’ll tell you later, Adam, after I’ve properly greeted our friends,” smiled Alexa, offering her hands to Mac and Drake. A handshake did not satisfy Mac as he drew Alexa into his arms and planted an exuberant kiss on her soft lips despite Adam’s jealous glare.
“Now I can tell you,” Alexa said, turning back to Adam. “I don’t think Gwen recognized me though she did give me quite a scare. But let’s forget her for the time being.”
“Alexa, had I known I was creating the Vixen when I taught you to sail and use a weapon I would have refused your request outright instead of letting you wheedle me into doing something that went against my better judgment,” Mac declared with a twinkle. “I’m surprised Adam still speaks to me, let alone allows me in his house.”
“It’s over with, Mac.” Alexa smiled almost regretfully, for she did miss the excitement of her former life. “I am no longer the Vixen.”
“You don’t know how happy that makes me,” Drake cut in, greeting Alexa every bit as exuberantly as Mac. “I was hoping when you and Fox clashed on the island he would insist you return to Nassau.”
“When did you find out about Fox, Alexa?” Mac asked. “On the island?”
“No,” Alexa grinned impishly. “I knew Adam was the Fox long before that.”
“I’ll bet that’s some story,” leered Mac wolfishly.
“One that shall remain untold,” Adam declared, slanting Alexa a challenging look.
Alexa glare
d back defiantly. “You kept me in the dark concerning your activities for so long you deserved whatever you got.”
“Alexa,” warned Adam, tempering his warning with amusement.
“Oh, all right, Adam,” Alexa capitulated, feigning defeat. Then she burst into laughter until Adam followed suit, quickly catching Mac and Drake in their hilarity.
Had Alexa and her companions been able to see through the closed door they wouldn’t have felt so joyous and carefree. Lady Gwen did indeed leave in her carriage but she hadn’t rounded the bend before she missed her reticule and ordered her driver back to the house. Certain that she had dropped her bag in the hallway, Gwen did not bother to knock but slipped through the unlatched door and retraced her steps to the study where she had encountered Alexa a short time earlier. She spotted her reticule almost immediately and bent to retrieve it. It was then she heard loud voices and the names of the infamous pirates, Fox and Vixen, spoken.
Gwen felt no qualms about putting her ear to the door and listening to the conversation. Her eyes grew round as saucers and her mouth trembled in disbelief as she shared secrets no one but the people in the room were privy to. That the woman she had spoken to only moments before was Adam’s wife came as no surprise for she had already begun to suspect the blond woman was other than she pretended. But to learn that Alexa was the Vixen was a stroke of luck she hadn’t counted upon.
What she heard so stunned her that her legs refused to hold her and she dropped to her knees before the door. Adam Foxworth, Lord Penwell, the man she had hoped to marry was the Fox—that wily privateer who seemed at times to disappear into thin air to stymie his foe! And no wonder! In reality he was a respected member of English nobility. And now, she alone knew their secret. But not for long. She grinned deviously as she picked herself off the floor and left the house as quietly as she had entered.
Inside the study the four privateers celebrated their reunion oblivious to Gwen’s hasty exit as they raised glasses of sparkling brandy in a toast to a United States of America free from English intervention.
“I know the Ghost is on its way here to pick up Adam,” Alexa said after their toast had been made, “but what are you two doing here with your ships?”
“Good news, Alexa,” Mac revealed, elated. “De Grasse and a large contingent of twenty-eight French vessels and 3300 troops sailed from Haiti for the Chesapeake. We are to rendezvous here with the Ghost, pick up Fox, and depart immediately to join the battle in the north which is bound to be decisive.”
“Oh, Mac, you mean the war will be decided by this one battle?” Alexa sparkled.
“It’s very likely,” Adam forestalled Mac’s answer. “We’re bound to beat the English with so large a force. From there it’s on to New York where Cornwallis is holed up. The end is in sight, my love.”
“When must you leave?” Alexa asked shakily, unwilling to part with him so soon. She hadn’t even told him yet about the baby.
“In a day or two, as soon as the Ghost arrives.”
Alexa nodded solemnly, swallowing the lump forming in her throat. “I understand,” she said, blinking her eyes rapidly to dispel the tears gathering there.
Later they shared an excellent supper and then continued their visit over coffee and brandy. It was late when Drake and Mac returned to their ships and Adam and Alexa were allowed to escape to the privacy of their room.
Needing no words to express what they both felt, Adam undressed her leisurely, her senses fully awakened by his touch. They made love slowly, reverently, almost as if it were their first time, or their last. Words of love flowed freely, unhampered by mistrust or deception. Alexa knew she had no experience for comparison; to her it was an instinctive knowledge that only in Adam’s arms could her body, her mind, her love, find such perfect joy.
No other lips had the ability to tease, caress, and titillate as did Adam’s. No other hands had the power to elicit so dramatic a response as they explored, parted, probed the secret places of her body. And when he finally pushed his way inside her, she welcomed him with a throaty purr, feeling his desire swelling within her.
Beneath his mouth the rosy tips of her breasts surged and stood erect as his forceful thrusts carried her from darkness into blinding light. When he grasped the rounded mounds of her buttocks to still her mindless writhing as he labored to bring them both to climax, Alexa cried out her joy into the stillness of the night. Only when her tremors ceased did Adam allow his own passion free rein and join her.
They lay closely entwined in the aftermath, basking in contentment and filled with awe at their total surrender to each other. It was a perfect time in which to tell Adam about the baby, Alexa smiled drowsily. But the words she formed in her mind were never uttered.
Both Adam and Alexa were startled from their euphoria by a loud banging on the door and angry voices calling out to them. Alexa froze, recalling that day so long ago when she had been disturbed in the same manner. The day she and Mac had been carted off to prison.
“Open up!” a loud voice demanded. “Open in the name of the king or we’ll break the door down!”
“Oh God, Adam! They know!” Alexa wailed, clinging to Adam. “You must get away.”
“We know you’re in there Fox! You too. Vixen! You won’t escape so easily this time!”
“They want us both,” Adam said grimly, pulling on his trousers. “I have to get you out of here, my love. Hurry, slip into your robe. I won’t allow them to take you again!”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to stall them while you go out through the study doors to the cove where the Lady A and My Lady Vixen are anchored.”
“Adam, no!” protested Alexa. “I won’t leave without you!”
The men outside began battering down the door and in desperation Adam grasped Alexa’s slim shoulders in an effort to shake some sense into her. “Use your head, Alexa! I’m better prepared to take care of myself than you are! There are ways and means to escape as long as I don’t have you to worry about. Go!” he ordered, shoving her roughly. “I want you out of here before they break down the door. Hurry,” he called, “tell Mac what happened. And Alexa, I love you!”
Then he was out the door and racing down the steps, sword raised high in a futile effort that did little more than allow Alexa sufficient time to run into the study and out the French doors—into the waiting arms of Charles Whitlaw!
19
Beneath the relentless barrage the door finally splintered and broke apart. Adam was momentarily stunned but not surprised to find nearly twenty men storming through the shattered opening. With sinking heart he realized there was no possible escape this time for the Fox. Maintaining his stance at the foot of the curving staircase. Adam fought bravely but from the onset he knew there could be but one outcome. His one burning desire was for Alexa’s escape and that once Mac and Drake learned of his plight they might join forces to rescue him much in the same way he had once spirited Mac and Alexa out from under the noses of the English.
It took a wound in the side and another in the shoulder to subdue Adam, and even then it required four men to pin him down. “Up the stairs!” ordered the lieutenant in charge. “Find the Vixen! I want them both!”
After several long minutes, minutes in which Adam hoped Alexa would make good her escape, the men surged down the stairs to report no one but servants on the upper floors. “Where is she?” asked the lieutenant, prodding Adam with the tip of his boot. “We know the Vixen is here and we know who she is, so don’t try to lie.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Adam retorted, feigning ignorance. “There was no one here but my mistress and she returned to Charleston earlier today.”
“We know better,” snarled the lieutenant. “Lady Gwen told the General everything. By now it is common knowledge that Lord Penwell is the Fox and his wife the Vixen.”
“Gwen,” spat Adam contemptuously. “I might have known. It’s too late, gentlemen, there is no one here but mys
elf.”
The entire house was searched thoroughly, and when the study doors were discovered open the grounds were searched as well as the slave quarters. Next the fields, outbuildings and surrounding woods were scoured while Adam lay in a ever widening pool of congealing blood, praying that Alexa would not be found and that the secret cove where the Lady A and My Lady Vixen lay at anchor would remain undiscovered.
With the advent of dawn the search intensified and the path through the woods leading to the secret cove was indeed discovered. But when the troops stood at the edge of the water not a ship was in sight, and Adam rejoiced when he heard the news, too sorely wounded to realize that had his friends known he was in trouble they would have come to his aid. Only then did he allow weakness and loss of blood to overcome him as he slid gratefully into darkness.
Alexa squirmed and struggled but the arms holding her were too strong. Panic seized her as she realized she was caught as well as Adam and she could do nothing to help him. Now Mac and Drake would have no way of knowing what had happened tonight until they returned to the house and questioned the servants. By then it might be too late.
“Don’t struggle so, Alexa. I won’t hurt you,” said a voice she had thought never to hear again.
“Charles!” Alexa gasped. “How could it be?”
Immediately a large hand was clamped over her mouth. “Quiet, damn you! Do you want that stupid lieutenant to take you back to hang?”
His words confused her. Why would Charles want to save her after what she did to him? Hadn’t he heard she was the Vixen? And how had he escaped from a northern prison?
Alexa ceased her struggling as Charles drew her deeper into the woods where he had two horses tethered and waiting. “Up you go,” he boosted her. Then he surprised her further by tying her hands to the pommel with his scarf. His eyes raked her thinly clad body insolently one long moment before he sprang on his own horse and grasped the reins of Alexa’s mount, urging them both through the dark woods. They were miles down the road by the time the English soldiers took their search outside the house and into the surrounding area.