The jewelry was another matter. Jeffery had personally examined each piece. Pieces of lesser value and beauty had been packed in one crate; pieces of higher quality had been placed in another. Those rare and expensive items which boasted of unusual artistic design or of valuable stones were laid aside to be carefully wrapped and packed in still another crate. This was naturally after Jeffery had selected numerous pieces for his private collection, a collection which represented only the highest quality in value and in beauty. Nothing less than the personal possession of a chief was allowed into his collection.
As he handled his own items, he knew there were only two articles missing, two treasures which were more valuable than the entire miscellany in the large room. It had been months since he had sent out word of his extravagant bounty for the scalp and wanapin of the legendary Gray Eagle. April had shown her capricious face; yet, his hands remained empty. He would be leaving this territory in Mary or early June, but not before his greedy hands could fondle that midnight mane and snow-white eagle!
So far, no man—white or Indian—had dared to bring it to him. Still, his hopes remained high; his greed steadily increased. Perhaps the snows had prevented his success; perhaps that vital scalp was already hanging upon some man’s belt, just waiting to be delivered. Yet, if he did not receive any promising word by the end of this month, he would up the tempting bounty to ten thousand dollars in gold. Surely that amount would force some man to risk his life!
He left the door standing ajar as he went into the kitchen to get something to drink. But the spring night air was so cool and inviting, he stepped outside for a few moments. He absently leaned against the porch post and gazed out into the gathered shadows before him. All he could think about was having some man lay that priceless treasure across his waiting palm.
Unable to sleep and restless with tossing, Alisha threw the covers aside and got out of bed. Perhaps something cool to drink would calm her frayed nerves and help her to get to sleep. For certain her ruse on Jeffery was not plaguing her with a guilty conscience! Her inability to come up with a plan to extricate herself from this marriage was the real problem.
She pulled on the crimson robe which Jeffery had brought to her from his last mysterious trip down-river. She slipped her small feet into the matching slippers. Quietly opening her door, she walked down the hallway to the head of the steps. She hoped she could secure a drink without his knowledge. She listened for a few moments to make certain there were no strange noises coming from the study or the drawing room.
Hearing nothing which might suggest company at this late hour, she soundlessly made her way down the steps. She looked into the drawing room and glanced into his study. Seeing no one, she assumed he must have gone out for a walk or to see someone. As she headed for the kitchen, she naturally passed the secret room. She halted instantly as her vision touched upon the unsealed door. Hearing no sound from within, she curiously shoved the door back to peer inside.
She could not believe the gruesome sight which greeted her terrified eyes. Lantern lights danced eerily over the piles of horror and sacrifice. Unable to stop herself, she walked into that den of evil. She looked down into the crates which were still standing open. Her trembling hand reached out and touched many items before her dazed vision, hoping they were not real. She noted the countless sealed crates which were stacked on top of each other on the far side of the room. Her incredulous gaze slowly and painfully swept the entire room, not wanting to venture a guess as to how many lives had been taken in order to fill it. Without a doubt, none of these articles had been taken from a person who still lived.
Terror raced through her as she heard two masculine voices coming from the kitchen. Jeffery was speaking to some man at the back door. She fearfully listened. “Course it isn’t too late for a little business, Frenchy. Been expecting you all evening. Alisha’s in bed ill. The doctor ordered her there for the next few days. She couldn’t have chosen a better time! Before she’s up and around, we can have all those crates loaded and out of here. The timing’s perfect. I doubt we’ll be getting too many more items before I leave here in a few weeks. Come on in. Drink?”
Alisha missed the muffled voice which accepted his offer as she cautiously eased out the door and silently moved toward the stairway. As the two men headed for that same lurid room, she feared to alert them to her perilous presence if the stairs creaked, as they frequently did while ascending or decending them. So, she merely pressed her slender body against the far wall and prayed they would not come her way. Hopefully they would close the door once inside that room, offering her an escape. She held her breath in fearful anticipation of discovery.
“Been a great winter, Frenchy,” Jeffery was saying as they came down the hallway from the kitchen. “Those men we hired have certainly done a superb job for us. I’ve never seen so many pelts and furs of this high quality and excellent condition. Real generous of all those trappers to hand them over to us without so much as a fuss.”
The two joined in sardonic laughter. Jeffery went on with his assumptions, “As for that Injun stuff we ordered, we have enough to sell for a tidy fortune back in the Colonies. Amazing what folks will pay for such souvenirs from savages and barbarians, isn’t it? The bounty’s still out for chiefs and notable warriors. We have enough booty just from the common redskins! Nothing but the very best from now on.”
Alisha felt queasy and weak. There was so much more evil to absorb too quickly: river pirates, murders, robberies, bounties, Frenchy, drugs, defilement of innocent girls, deceit, lies, revenge, cruelty, horror and more horror…. Was there no end to his evil, no depth too low to sink, no deed too vile to command? What black demon resided within his body?
Her head began to spin with its futile attempts to block out these new, deadly facts. She feared she was about to faint; she struggled to retain control of her senses. What region of Gehenna had she unwittingly stepped into when she had landed on that dock—Christmas Eve of all nights?
Her torment was not over yet. Another voice forced its smooth French accent into her already battered mind. “Those magic potions you ordered, I brought you a small gallipot of each. Just out of curiosity, mon ami, who do you use them on?” Henri inquired with a lecherous laugh.
Henri . . Frenchy? Many times she had unknowingly conversed, laughed, and smiled with that satanic fiend in this very house! No! her troubled mind and ravaged heart screamed in unison. No more; please, God, no more…
Overwhelming desperation and panic filled her. As she attempted to rush up the stairs, her loud steps were later assumed to be from her careless decension. She tripped over the fluttering tail of her trailing housecoat; she tumbled back down the few steps which she had just taken upwards. An instinctive cry of surprise was torn from her lips just prior to the moment when she lightly struck her head upon the post at the base of the steps. She was instantly rendered unconscious, but not seriously injured.
Hearing the loud commotion, Jeffery and Henri rushed to her side. They found her limp body lying at the foot of the stairs. Her gown and wrapper were tangled around her legs, offering both men an ample view of long and shapely limbs. Jeffery knelt over her and called her name. When she did not respond, he picked her up and hurriedly took her back to her own bed. As he lay her down, Henri was wetting a cloth in cool water and bringing it over to him.
Jeffery gently wiped her pale face with its colorless lips. When her eyelids finally fluttered and opened, her emerald eyes appeared cloudy and confused. Her shaky hand came up to touch the rising knot upon her forehead. She focused on the two men standing by her bed, frantic expressions still visible upon their faces, worry written in their eyes.
“What… hap…happened?” she stammered, not knowing how to react to her perilous situation.
“You fell down the steps. My God, Alisha, whatever possessed you to get up at this late hour? You know the doctor told you to remain in bed! You’re weak and feverish. Why didn’t you call out if you needed something? Are you hurt
anywhere? Shall I send Henri for the doctor?” he inquired, genuine lines of anxiety furrowing his brow.
“I couldn’t sleep. I was so thirsty and my throat was dry and scratchy. It’s so raw and painful that I was afraid it would hurt to call out that loud. I didn’t realize I was so weak and shaky. Halfway down the steps, my head started spinning and everything went black,” she lied very convincingly.
She moved her slender body this way and that. “I don’t think I’m injured, except for the lump on my head. It’s so late to disturb the doctor. Couldn’t we wait until morning to send for him? I’m all right, really I am. I promise I won’t try to get up again. I’m sorry, Jeffery.”
“If you’re sure you’re all right? Would you like for me to get you something to drink?” he politely offered his services.
“Would it be all right if I had some sherry or brandy? I’m so tired, but I keep tossing and waking,” she meekly stated.
“I don’t see why not. The doctor didn’t put you on any medication. I’ll get some for you.”
“Stay here with Alisha, mon ami. I will fetch the sherry for her,” Henri declared gallantly, then hurried downstairs.
Doubting that even Jeffery would drug his ailing wife, she obediently accepted the proffered glass when Henri returned with the decanter and a goblet. She hastily tossed down the first drink, then slowly sipped the second one. Rosy color began to ease back into her face and lips. She began to relax and to doze.
She smiled up at Jeffery and Henri. “Thank you both. I’m feeling much better now. Goodnight, Jeffery. I’m sorry to be such a bother. I hate being sick and helpless,” she murmured.
“Forget it, Alisha. Next time you want or need something, call me,” he gently scolded her. “Get some sleep, love. Mrs. Webster will be over to take care of you in the morning.”
Mainly for Henri’s benefit, Jeffery placed a tender kiss upon her parted lips and lightly caressed her rosy cheek. She smiled wanly and thanked him again. Jeffery tucked her in like some small child, then grinned rakishly at her. She smiled at him once more, then closed her eyes. Thanks to the sherry and to her injury, she was soon asleep.
Staring down at his sleeping wife, Jeffery inquired of his accomplice, “Think she heard anything?”
Henri stepped up beside him and studied her serene, lovely face. “I think not, mon ami. She is much too ill and weak to be spying upon her husband, even to be out of bed. See the dark smudges beneath her eyes? See the paleness of her skin and lips? Note the feverish flush and the chilling dampness upon her body? Those things, plus the glassiness of her enchanting eyes, say she is indeed ill. Do as the doctor says. She must have rest and care. She is far too precious to lose to death. No matter how much resilience and stamina you think she possesses, she has suffered and endured much for one so delicate and young. Her body and her emotions are drained and weakened. It would be too easy for her to give up hope and to slowly waste away, especially if her beloved husband does not show her love and care.”
Baffled by the concern and affection which was revealed in Henri’s eyes and tone, Jeffery glanced over at him. Henri actually flushed, then flashed him a sheepish grin. “Can I be blamed for admiring and recognizing a rare gem? Were she mine, we would not be so far apart,” he noted. At the look of surprised guilt upon Jeffery’s face, he remarked, “You do not permit her to get close to you or to trust you, mon ami. I read fear and mistrust in her lovely jade eyes. There is hesitation in her smile and response, as if she fears to annoy or to anger you. Why is this so? Do you blame her for her painful past? Does she still suffer from such memories?”
Jeffery’s eyes chilled and narrowed. His glacial voice remarked, “There are some matters which should not be discussed, even among the best of friends, mon ami. Alisha is one of those private matters. Comprendez-vous?” he almost sneered at Henri.
“As you wish, mon ami Jeffery. I was merely offering my ample knowledge of women for your own profit.”
“Alisha is unlike any other female. Such vast knowledge in your area of females would be of little help where she is concerned,” he growled, subtly admitting to some problem without meaning to.
“Perhaps it is none of my affair, but I should like one last answer. You do not plan to make use of the opiate on her, do you? Its addiction can be most dangerous and damaging. I can easily replace a whore who has become too adjusted to it. A ravishing wife cannot so easily be replaced.”
Jeffery chuckled humorously. “Come now, Henri, surely you do not honestly think I would drug my own wife,” he stated indignantly. Yet, his tone betrayed his lie.
“I should hope not, mon ami, for the pleasures would not outweigh the risks. She needs but patience and kindness.”
“No man could be more patient or unselfish than I,” he boasted arrogantly, a resentful tone in his voice. “I have waited a long time to have her; what is a few more weeks or months?”
With that, they returned to their business downstairs. Not another word was mentioned about Alisha. Many hours and drinks later, Henri left. Jeffery came upstairs. Before heading to his own room, he decided to look in on her. As he pushed the door open, she quickly closed her eyes and feigned deep slumber.
Jeffery swaggered over to her bed. Her steady respiration and stillness caused him to think her asleep. She was lying upon her stomach, her face snuggled into the softness of her feather pillow. Several curls had fallen across her face, concealing most of it from his view. The moonlight did nothing to aid his obscured vision, inspiring him to make a serious mistake with an unwitting confession.
He sighed heavily. In such deep thought, he did not even realize he was speaking aloud or that she heard every word. “Damn you, Alisha!” he swore softly. “You have no idea how much I want you even now. You have stolen my last chance to possess you as that red bastard has done countless times. Yes, my bewitching wife, you will make me the perfect wife in every way but one. But it I thought for one instant those magic creams would remove my impotency; I would smear the whole damn container on my manhood and I would ram you until you begged for mercy… or for more,” he added with a lewd, cruel chuckle.
“Those red snakes will pay for what they did to me that day. I’ll spill every drop of Injun blood I can to make up for every seed I’ll never be able to spit into your lovely body. Damnit! If that blasted arrow could take away my ability to enjoy a woman, then why didn’t it take away these tormenting hungers, too? I would trade anything I possess to have you just one time. You’d never give that savage another thought afterwards! It was bad enough he had you first, but he’s also had you last.”
He lifted a curl and watched it wind itself around his index finger. “How I wish you could wind your body around mine like that. But if you think for one instant I would permit you to learn about this humiliating condition of mine… never! I can hear your taunting laughter now. ‘Poor Jeffery, he wants me so bad it hurts; but he will be forever frustrated,’” he mocked what he assumed her reaction would be to such news.
She was momentarily tempted to shout a fierce denial to that charge, to offer her sympathy and understanding to his bitterness and hatred. Caution prevented such an absurd, generous notion. He would only hate her all the more for her vast knowledge of his evil secrets. She was ecstatic to hear he had never touched her sexually and never could. Ecstatic until she heard his following words!
“Yes, my refined and ravishing wife, you will be the perfect wife and companion for Jeffery Clayton Gordon. For now, you can believe I am being the patient, unselfish husband. Later, I will decide how to deal with my continual celibacy. You will be deep within my power and control before you ever learn anything. Such an innocent should not possess the body of a seductress! I even convinced you of your attempt to seduce me, my naïve beauty.”
Alisha could not see his wicked smile. “Once we have returned to my plantation and you have conquered that old dragon of a father, I will take good care of you. I’ll find some worthy young stud who looks just like me if I have
to search the entire Colony. Then, my deprived wife, I will breed you with him for an heir. If you’re not hungry enough by then to cooperate with my orders, my little potions will make you plead for a thorough feeding. Your luscious body will beg for sweet relief. It will do anything I command of it. I shall observe this stimulating event, the conception of my son. You have denied me the pleasure of your body, but you cannot deny me the sight of such entertainment. I shall watch you play the wanton with my own image. How I wish those creams would have the same effect upon my dead stallion as they had upon Mary all those times. To imagine you carrying on like that with my image!”
Alisha reluctantly listened as he rambled on and on about Mary’s innocent, yet uncontrollable, participation in those many obscene happenings. Alisha felt repulsed by his plans for her as he outlined them in vivid detail. The only thing she saw to be grateful for was the fact he did not intend to share her with men like Tommy and Slim. A child, his heir, seemed his only interest in forcing her to submit to another man’s lovemaking. Yet, he sounded as if he would enjoy watching her perform such obscene acts with his likeness; he sounded insane and sadistic. And Alisha knew that if he did find enjoyment in such a horrible perversion, he would continue to force her to perform the unspeakable acts.
She prayed he would soon tire of his wicked confession and go away. But before he did, he revealed yet another fact. “If you thought I would permit that half-breed scout to ram you when I never could, you were both mistaken,” he snarled, then revealed how he had rid himself of his two annoying foes.
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