"Have you seen a woman about so tall?" Jason held a hand up to his shoulder. "With long black hair? She was wearing men's clothing."
The other woman, Sally, waved her hand at the mention of Krystyna and she moved toward the men. "Oh, that one. She can't give you as good a time as I can." She brushed her body up against Jason's, determined to get the men's minds off anyone else but her.
But Jason placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her back. "Then you've seen her. Where is she?"
Annoyed, Sally turned her attention to Sin-Jin. One was as good as another. She tossed her red hair and smiled. "How about you then, luv?" She leaned forward, exposing almost all of her breasts to his gaze.
"I'm afraid that I'm with him." Sin-Jin nodded toward Jason. Then his tone grew less friendly. "Where is she?"
Sally frowned, sullen. "I don't know."
Sin-Jin dug into his coat pocket and flipped them both a coin. "Does that jar your memory a bit?"
Trisha caught the coin and bit it. Satisfied that it was real, she dropped it inside her stained bodice.
"Sure to lose it there," the other woman mocked.
Ignoring her, Trisha turned to Jason and Sin-Jin. "Some man took her."
Jason took hold of her shoulders. "What man? Where did he take her?"
"Take it easy, guv'nor." She pulled away. "I'm not even sure it was her. He had someone in a sack slung over his lackey's shoulder. Funny bloke, talked with an accent. Made us get out of the room when he talked to her. I don't think she liked him." The camp follower flashed a grin. "We listened."
"She acted like she knew him," Sally chimed in, not to be left out.
Jason looked at Sin-Jin, worried. "Krystyna doesn't know anyone here. There're only British sympathizers."
Sin-Jin blew out a breath. "Well, some man with an accent got her. We'll have to find out who he is and where he took her." He turned toward the women. "Did you see which direction he went?" When there was only silence, he dug out another coin. Sally caught it first.
"Him and his friend took the wagon and drove away from the fightin'." Sally's dark eyes were stripping the clothes from Sin-Jin's body.
Sin-Jin grinned, aware of what she was thinking. "Have you ever seen the man before?"
Both women shook their heads, then Trisha suddenly remembered something. "Well, I think I seen him lurking about the general's office once in Norfolk. Wallace sent me away when his soldier boy came in to tell him Count Andy Somebody-or-other was waitin' to see him. Sent me out right quick, too. I think the man that took her was sneakin' around behind the building."
A dark suspicion was taking hold of Jason. The man who was his contact, the one whose accent had reminded him of Krystyna's, was a Count by the name of Andrej. And he had known where Jason would be. If he was at Norfolk, then he was with the British. The Count had betrayed him, and now he had Krystyna.
Sin-Jin noticed Jason's odd expression. "Something wrong?"
"I don't know. Let's see if we can catch up to the wagon."
"Ain't you gonna stay for a little while?" The buxomy woman laced her arms about Jason's neck.
Gently, he disengaged himself. "I'd really like to, but some other time."
Sin-Jin was already out the door, laughing at Jason's dilemma. "I'd say you had woman trouble."
"I'd say you talk too much." They hurried to find their horses.
In the background, the women cursed them roundly, then returned to packing up their belongings.
Chapter Forty
The trail was not difficult to follow. The Count, assuming no one would follow them, had done nothing to hide it. It was the anticipation of what might lie ahead if they didn't reach Krystyna in time that made the ride hard.
It could already be too late? Jason pushed the nagging thought from his mind. It would do no good to brood on it. He'd find her. No matter where she was.
"I don't understand why they kidnapped her," Sin-Jin said aloud, taking care to keep his own emotions banked and out of his voice. "There're all those available women around the camp. Most of them can be had for a song. Or less."
"But not one of them looks like Krystyna," Jason muttered as he kept a sharp eye on the path. The ground had grown hard, and the trail was becoming difficult to follow. He looked for wagon-wheel tracks, signs of freshly broken twigs, any marks that would indicate a wagon had passed recently.
Sin-Jin glanced at him. "Really have it bad for her, don't you?" He saw the slanted look that Jason gave him before turning away. "Don't get defensive with me. I can understand perfectly. She's beautiful, and I envy you. She reminds me a bit of my brother's wife." A fond look came into his eyes as he remembered the first time he had made love to Vanessa. "My first love."
"You make a habit of loving other men's women?"
Sin-Jin kept his face expressionless, but his tone had shifted, sobered. "She was mine before she was his."
"Sorry."
Sin-Jin shrugged. "She liked money better than either one of us. He had it, I didn't. So you see," Sin-Jin continued philosophically, "I'm used to losing out. A second son is born and bred to accept second best. Krystyna's all yours. I shall have to console myself with your sister." He sneaked a side glance to see how Jason received that information.
"Krys mentioned that Savannah was interested in you." He looked at Sin-Jin, certain that he could read the truth in the man's eyes. "Is it true?"
Sin-Jin smiled. "At the risk of sounding immodest, I believe it is. She's really a lovely girl. That lout she was engaged to was totally unworthy of her."
Jason raised his hand, signaling for Sin-Jin to stop. He debated which way to go. The road split before them. Dismounting, he carefully examined the ground, then made his choice, hoping it was the right one.
"Was?" he prompted, remounting his horse. It seemed that much had happened in the short time he'd been absent. Aaron had finally found his backbone, and Savannah had thrown over Winthrop. He wondered what else had occurred.
"He tried to rape your sister." Jason's face turned dark with fury. "I was fortunate enough to be there and stop him," Sin-Jin said quickly. "She's fine." More than fine, he added silently, but it wouldn't do to say that to her brother.
"I'll kill him," Jason swore. Whatever else Savannah might be, she was his sister and there was her honor to think of.
"That wouldn't be a very good idea, tempting though it might be. His father is in the thick of this thing, and he's on our side. On the British Army's side," Sin-Jin amended. It was going to be difficult separating himself from that, at least for a while. "Any American sympathizer who harmed his son would be dealt with very harshly."
Jason looked at Sin-Jin. The man's voice was that of calm, of reason. It didn't alleviate the anger in Jason's breast.
"I promise you that Winthrop is the worse for wear. And the best part is, he won't be marrying into your wealth and having his way with your sister."
"And how do you feel about her?" All things considered, Jason realized that he'd much rather have this blond ex-British officer in his family than Winthrop.
"I must admit she's caught more than my passing fancy." Sin-Jin grinned, thinking of his times with Savannah. "She has many qualities that she keeps hidden beneath a spoiled and shrewish nature."
Without doubt, he has a clear image of my sister, Jason thought. "Savannah can get under your skin."
Sin-Jin smiled fondly. "That she can. When this war is over, or perhaps even sooner," he cast a guarded glance in Jason's direction, "I should like to see more of her." He laughed as he thought of Morgan McKinley, barricaded in his room. "I'm sure that won't go far in pleasing your father."
"You're a lot better than Winthrop."
"I'm not certain how to accept that. A pig would be better than Winthrop." The road grew steep, and Sin-Jin took care to sit his horse well. Unlike Jason, he had no affinity for riding. It was just another arduous task a soldier had to accept. He preferred a carriage.
"They deal badly with deserters," Sin-Ji
n said suddenly, voicing his thoughts aloud.
Jason studied him a moment. "Are you considering it?"
The other man shifted in his saddle. When would they reach journey's end? "Yes." The answer came quietly.
Sin-Jin looked around as Jason dismounted again to search for fresh signs. Below them was a valley. Peaceful and green, untouched by war. It would be nice to settle here.
"There's nothing for me back home, and I'm beginning to tire of this existence as a soldier." Sin-Jin's face sobered as he thought of the real reason. "I don't like killing people, not for a cause that has little to do with me. Advancement in the army is beginning to mean less and less to me as the days wear on. I think I'd like to find a place here and try my hand at plantation life. I do have a little money put by. My mother left it to me." It had been meant only for emergencies, but this, Sin-Jin thought, is beginning to feel like one.
"There's land to the south of us that no one's claimed." Jason swung back into the saddle. "The carriage is heading north."
Sin-Jin toyed with the idea as they rode. "South of you, eh?" He grinned. Jason saw where Savannah might find him attractive. And Krystyna. "Might be interesting, being your neighbor."
Jason knew that he was speaking of Krystyna, of possibly trying to woo her away. "Savannah would keep you in line."
Sin-Jin laughed. "That she would."
Krystyna felt herself being lowered to the ground. Suddenly, the sack was yanked from her and she tumbled out, rolling on the floor. The light blinded her as she scrambled to her feet. Still unsteady from the blow to her head, she tripped and fell against a desk. She was in a room, a study, she realized as she began to focus in on her surroundings. But whose?
Andrej was in the room with her. And Fargo. She fought back the bitter taste of bile. The pungent taste of fear. "Where have you brought me?" she demanded.
The bitch. When would she treat him with the respect he deserved? He'd get his revenge on her, make her beg for mercy as he used her flesh for his pleasure. The thought made him smile. "To the house of a loyalist sympathizer." He studied her, tearing away her clothing with his eyes. "I am borrowing it." He gestured around grandly. It was a fine room. "My headquarters, so to speak."
Her eyes darted about, looking for a way out. She saw by glancing out the window that they were on the second floor. "You are a Tory. I might have known."
He reached out to touch her hair, and she pulled away. "There is no other side to be on."
"Why are you not at home? You are obviously in league with the people who helped our enemies partition Poland." She spat out the words.
He enjoyed admitting that to her. "Yes, I am." He indicated a sofa to her left. "Sit down."
Krystyna raised her chin. She was taller than he, but not by much, though his sloping shoulders made him appear even shorter than he was. "I shall stand, thank you."
Placing a large hand on her shoulder, he pushed her down onto the sofa. "You will sit when I tell you to sit and stand when I tell you to stand. You will do everything I tell you to do, or it will go badly for you."
She glared at him, fire in her eyes. "I will not be treated like this by the likes of you!"
He hit her across the face, but nothing took away the hatred in her eyes. So be it. In time it would dull. He would wipe it away. "You are no longer the high and mighty Countess. I now have your lands."
"So, it was you." She wished a weapon was nearby. She'd snuff out his useless life in an instant.
This, too, he enjoyed telling her. "Yes, I seized your lands. They are a reward for the work I have done to bring the partition into being. Even now, I am working to sustain that goal. The Americans are almost throwing their money at me. A rich man can go far in Poland."
"Animal!" Hands raised, she threw herself against him and raked his face with her nails. He seized her hands and shoved her onto the floor. Fargo stepped closer, ready to help his master. Krystyna waited for the inevitable.
But it didn't come.
He wiped his cheek with a lace handkerchief, which he then threw down in disgust.
His voice was deceptively calm. "It will do you no good to call me names. You are at my mercy now, and I shall do what I want with you, you high-nosed whore."
"I shall never marry you!" She scrambled to her feet.
"Marriage?" The room rang with his laughter. It made her shiver. "Who said anything about marriage? That was when I needed you." His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "I do not need you anymore. I have what I want." The expression on his face was triumphant, evil. "I always get what I want. I will take you as my mistress."
"I will die first."
"No, I think not." He shrugged his hunched shoulders. "It does not matter if you do not come meekly. As a matter of fact, I prefer spirit. And I shall greatly enjoy breaking yours."
"You are not man enough to do so!" she spat out.
"We shall see about that." He lunged for her, grabbing hold of her wrist. As she cursed him, he pulled her closer.
Desperately, she pulled back, throwing him off balance. He fell, dragging her down with him. Suddenly, he was over her, his body on top of hers, his hands ripping her clothing.
Raising her head, she caught the tip of his ear in her teeth. He screamed in pain, but she kept her teeth clamped firmly on his flesh. His hands went to her throat. He was choking her breath away.
Someone knocked. The noise seemed to bring the Count to his senses. He realized that he was killing her.
That would have been a waste. He had worse things than death planned for her.
Releasing her, Andrej rose and looked accusingly at the man who had stepped into the room. He touched his ear. There was blood on his hand.
"Well, what do you want?"
The man tried not to look at Krystyna, who sat on the floor, gasping for air. "There's a man to see you, sir. He says he's had business with you and that you'd understand if I was to say 'Dutch traders.' "
Jason! Krystyna's heart began to pound wildly. Jason was here.
Andrej was instantly alert, the bloodied ear forgotten. "Stupid fool." He laughed, unable to believe his good fortune. "He came with the money after all. These Americans are a strange lot." He looked at Fargo and motioned toward Krystyna. "Get her out of here."
Taking her by the arm, Fargo began to leave through the same door the other man had used. "Not that way, you idiot! He'll see you. Take her up the back stairs to my bedroom. And tie her to the bed."
Krystyna tried to scream for Jason, but before she could open her mouth, Fargo clamped a hand over it. Then he dragged her from the room.
Andrej watched them, satisfied. She would pay for every slight she had ever given him. He would use that supple body well, he promised himself. There were things even prostitutes had refused to do. But Krystyna wouldn't refuse. She couldn't. She was his prisoner.
The thought pleased him well as he dusted off his vest and fixed his coat. He touched his ear gingerly. Good, it had stopped bleeding. She'd pay dearly for that, too.
Savoring the thought, he opened the door that led into the long hallway.
Chapter Forty One
"Come in, come in, my boy," Andrej said warmly, motioning Jason into the room and closing the door behind them. "You are late. I was beginning to worry about you. I was afraid that something had gone wrong with the exchange." He studied Jason. The man looked like a ruffian. What did Krystyna see in such a heathen and how could she prefer this man to him?
"It did," Jason answered flatly. Because of what the camp followers at the fort had told him, he knew that his contact and the man who had kidnapped Krystyna were one and the same. Nonetheless, when the trail he and Sin-Jin were following led him to the same door where he had received his initial instructions for the clandestine trade only a few short weeks ago, Jason was numbed. Angered at his trust being betrayed, stunned at being set up, and enraged over the possible harm that might have come to Krystyna, it was all Jason could do to keep from grabbing the man by the throat
and choking him.
But for now, he had to play his part. He turned to look at the Count. "I was captured."
"No?" Andrej tried to look properly sympathetic. "But you are here." He went to the decanter that stood on the table and poured a small glass of wine. It was a shame to waste it on someone like this, but the charade demanded it. He turned and handed the wine to Jason. "By what miracle have you come back to me?"
Jason watched him pour another glass, and only when Andrej had taken a sip of wine did he follow suit. "I was freed by some friends."
"How fortunate for us all." Andrej set down his glass. "Did you, perhaps, manage to recapture the money as well?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did." As he produced the money belt, Jason saw the Count's face brighten.
Andrej hurriedly opened the compartments on the belt. He didn't notice Jason slipping around behind him until it was too late. Jason seized his arm, holding the tip of a knife to his throat.
"All right, where is she?"
So, the bumpkin wasn't as stupid as he looked. Next time, I won't underestimate him, Andrej vowed. "Where is who?" he sputtered. "You are breaking my arm."
"I'll break more than that if you don't tell me. I've no patience with thieves and liars." Jason wrenched the man's arm higher, and Andrej cried out in agony. "You played me for a fool once, but that won't happen again. What have you done with Krystyna?"
"You mean your whore? Ah!" Andrej screamed as Jason yanked again. Sweat poured from his brow. "You will never get out of this house alive. It is filled with British soldiers. They will shoot you without so much as a thought if I order it!"
"Then we'll make sure you won't issue any orders." Jason pressed the knife closer. "Now, take me to her."
Andrej's arm was about to snap. "The stairs." He pointed to the other door. "She is in my bedroom."
Still holding Andrej's arm behind his back, Jason loosened his hold on it for only a fraction. "Lead the way," he said, urging him on with the point of his knife.
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