“Jesse wants to see her.”
His mother’s face softened. “Oh.”
He gathered the babe in his arms, and she stopped fussing instantly. His mother shook her head. “Well, that’ll be good for Jesse.”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “You’ll see.”
He chose to ignore her strange comment and hastily brought the baby to Jesse. Once he put her in her arms, he stepped back and watched as Jesse carefully inspected the newborn. She checked her fingers and toes and then propped her up on her lap and stared into her eyes. After a second of sizing each other up, they both smiled at the same time.
“She likes you,” he said and grinned.
“It’s just gas,” Jesse denied, but he saw her face light up as a connection was made with her stepdaughter. “From this day forward, Roberta Nadeen Dulac, I am your mother, and I will love you as much as I love Rebecca.”
She then rained kisses all over the baby’s face before picking her up and holding her close. She inhaled the fresh baby smell and softly patted her back. Before long, Roberta was sound asleep.
“Do you want me to take her?” he asked.
Jesse shook her head. “No, but you can join us for a nap if you’d like.”
Dulac didn’t need a second offer. He laid down beside them and nestled up to Jesse. Seconds later, he was out like his baby.
* * * *
April 10, 1901
The next week was hard on both he and Jesse. The girls woke them at all hours of the night; sometimes at the same time but mostly opposite each other. They were both grateful when the nanny finally arrived to help.
Dulac watched as the carriage took Bonny to be hung. Neither he nor Jesse wanted to watch her swing. He prayed it was the last time he ever saw that woman’s face and sent an additional prayer that Roberta would look like his side of the family. Only when the carriage was lost to sight did he move from his spot on the sidewalk.
It was pre-dawn, and he looked around to see if any neighbors were lurking about. He had a plan to keep Roberta’s true parentage a secret, but he was fearful Jesse wouldn’t like it. With heavy steps, he made his way up to their room. He watched her sleep, thinking of her unmerciful attack on him only hours before. It had been a delightful experience, and his manhood rose at the mere memory of it.
Unable to resist, he kissed her lips, and she soon woke to his gentle assault. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “G’morning.”
“Hello.”
“Is she gone?”
He nodded. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Ooo, that’s a difficult task for you, isn’t it?” she teased.
He half-smiled. “I think we should move to Baton Rouge.”
“What? Why?”
“To give the girls a chance at respectability. I propose that we keep the house here, of course, and purchase another there. I can come back every now and then to oversee my business interests, and of course, we can come back to visit family.”
It took a few minutes for her to digest the information. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”
“I want them passed off as twins. My connections ensured privacy from the start of the trial to the moment she was gone from here. But neighbors can be curious, and you weren’t big enough for two babies. I was just thinking that when you’re ready to travel, we can move. In the meantime, I’ll go to Baton Rouge and find us a suitable home.”
She chewed her lip. “One with lots of space to run and play? And even have horses?”
“And maybe a cow or two.”
“Well, I suppose that plan makes sense. Okay, my love, lead me to the end of the earth.”
Chapter 29
September 3, 1901 – Tuesday
New Orleans
Dulac yawned so hard that his eyes watered. He stopped working on the books and sat back. His desk was scattered with paper. He was trying to finish up so he could return to Baton Rouge where Jesse and the girls were. He missed them and their new home. He hoped to be on his way by Friday morning.
The clock on the mantel said that it was two in the morning. His eyelids were drooping. He hadn’t realized that owning his own fleet of ships would be so time consuming, but at least he was on land and at home with his family rather than sailing the seas. Well, mostly home anyway...
Dulac carefully set his pen in its holder and wearily got to his feet. He picked up the lantern and headed for bed.
The second his head hit the pillow, he was out. It seemed like only moments later, he woke when he heard a loud crash. He started to sit up, but a cloth was pressed to his mouth. A pair of strong hands held his shoulders to the mattress, and someone else sat on his legs. He tried to kick them off, but the blanket was twisted around him. There were at least three men involved to keep him from struggling, but he tried anyway. However, they had planned his kidnapping well, and he soon succumbed to the effects of the chemical on the cloth.
* * * *
Dulac woke to a pounding headache, but when he tried to raise his arm, he found his hands tied behind him. Then he smelled dirt and the fact that he was laying face down did not bode well. Neither did the blindfold and gag.
He tested the ropes that bound him, but they were tied tightly. Struggling would only make it worse. The hours dragged by as memories of his last captivity plagued him. Several times he was nearly consumed with panic. He had to get free, and he wore himself out trying to do so. His wrists bled, and his silk pajamas were drenched with sweat.
He knew the instant someone was in the room. Sweet perfume assailed his nose, and a soft breath warmed his ear. The female voice was deep, but he didn’t recognize it.
“Don’t worry, darling. No more sex for you this time. I think the position of eunuch would serve you well.”
Bonny? But how? Did she escape? Damn me! I knew I should have attended her hanging.
The unknown woman ran her fingers through his hair. “Nice. You have beautiful hair. I’d love to see your eyes. I’ve heard so much about them. But, alas, I cannot allow you to see me. That would spoil the fun.”
“Take off the gag,” he grunted into the cloth.
“What, darling? I can’t understand you.”
He shouted once more, and she obligingly pulled the rag down. “What was that, darling?”
“Who hired you? I’ll pay you triple.”
“Darling, you could offer me ten times all the money I’m being paid, and it wouldn’t matter. Let’s just say blood runs thick.”
“Please don’t do this. I have a family to take care of.” She was silent for too long, and he began to fear that they were in danger as well. “Don’t hurt them. Do what you want with me. Just leave them alone. Please.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you see it my way,” she purred. “Don’t cause me any trouble, because if you do, little Roberta will join you in captivity.”
He swallowed the bitter taste of fear as the unseen woman placed a kiss on his lips. He tried to instill fear in her. “If you take her babies, Jesse will hunt you down and kill you.”
She bit his lip roughly. “You mean, she won’t come after you? Aw, what a pity.”
“I’ll never make it home alive, will I?”
She kissed him again. “Oh, darling, I wouldn’t be so sure of that. There are worse things than death.”
She pulled the gag up and left him to his nightmares.
* * * *
Dulac blinked at the harshness of the gas lit lamps on the table before him. He had been blindfolded for so long his eyes were super sensitive. Tied to a chair, he couldn’t see who sat on the other side of the massive table.
“What day is it?” he asked, not even sure if anyone was actually in the room with him.
“Slaves don’t need to keep track of time.”
His jaw clenched at being referred to as a slave. Past experience, however, helped him to hold his tongue. “Why are you doing this?”
“It’s simple—reveng
e, and yes, I do find it satisfying.”
Dulac licked his lips. “So, when do I begin my...”
He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word. The woman snickered. “Aw, it’s not so bad. Maybe your master or mistress will take a liking to you and treat you like gold.”
It was Dulac’s turn to snicker. “Ha. Not likely.”
“Yes, you are probably correct,” she purred. “Your current master wants to meet you before you go to the auction block.”
A man stepped around the table and sat on the corner of it. He leaned his face close to Dulac’s. “Remember me?”
Recognition hit Dulac like a ton of fish. The hawk-like nose and black eyes unmistakably belonged to the sheik who had bought him and Jesse from LeBlanc.
“And you are correct in presuming I hold a grudge. The woman means nothing to me. She has no value since you stole her virginity from me, but you,” he paused and grabbed Dulac’s muscular forearm, “you make good field slave in middle east.”
Dulac’s flesh crawled at the man’s touch, and he clenched his jaw. His fingers dug into the soft wood of the chair. He sorely wished they weren’t tied to the arms. His left eye twitched in annoyance, but he kept his mouth shut.
Alam smiled. “Good. I see you remember the lashing you took.”
A wad of spit suddenly dangled off the end of Alam’s long nose. Dulac had done it without thinking but only regretted the stinging slap he received for it.
“Is that all you got?” he said and sneered.
The sheik wadded up the handkerchief used to wipe his nose and tossed it to the floor. He smiled grimly. “Nice try, but I don’t want to damage the goods.”
As the man’s hands headed toward Dulac, he pulled back his head until it cracked against the back of the chair. Alam laughed as he held his hands in front of Dulac’s face.
“Relax. I’m only going to pull your blindfold back down so my sister can feed you. I don’t wish you to lose your eyes. Our slaves are not allowed to look at our women.”
Dulac was plunged into darkness again, and he tilted his head as he fine-tuned his hearing. They walked quietly, and his nose was soon assaulted with her musky perfume. Her fingers traced his mouth.
“My brother is gone.”
She tapped something against his mouth. “Open.”
He obeyed, and he bit into a grape. She kept shoving food in his mouth so he wouldn’t ask any questions. She held a glass of wine to his lips and helped him drink. Some of it fell on his chest and seeped through his silk pajamas. She sighed.
“I wish I could keep you. I’ve been so lonely since my husband died.”
Dulac quickly gulped in air before something else could be shoved in his mouth. He turned his head to the side. “I’m full. Thank you. Were you part of his harem?”
Silence filled his ears, and he figured that he had overstepped his boundary. He was surprised when she started talking again. Her words were whispered, and he strained to hear them.
“I was first wife of a harem of two. I loved Sarif, but that other bitch hated him. She poisoned him, and so I, in turn, poisoned her. With no son to claim his name, the prince claimed all that Sarif had left. My brother took me and my daughter to live under his roof, but he is very domineering.”
She rubbed a cloth against his face. “All he has talked about is getting revenge.”
“Help me escape.”
She laughed cruelly. “I cannot help you. I cannot help me.”
“Then why are you telling me your sad story? Because honestly, I could care less,” Dulac growled bitterly.
She slapped him hard. “Insolent slave.”
“You were a slave to Sarif,” he snapped cruelly.
She slapped him again. “I was first wife. She was slave. Not I.”
Dulac licked the corner of his mouth where it had cracked from her hand. “We don’t treat our women like dirt. Please don’t take your misplaced anger out on me...mistress.”
She rubbed his cheek. “Good. You do learn quick.”
“Do you like America?”
“Yes, what I’ve seen.”
“I can help you escape your brother. I have friends.”
She played with his hair, lost in thought. “Hmmm, tempting, but he has my daughter.”
“She can come too.”
“She’s at home in the middle east.”
Her thumb rubbed his forehead. Then she touched his cheeks and something oily slid down his face. She touched his lips last, and he instinctively licked. There was no taste to the oil.
“What is that?” He suddenly realized how relaxed he had become. His next words were slightly slurred. “I hate being drugged.”
“Shh,” she whispered as she dripped the oil on the back of his hands and bare feet. “You’ll do as I say, Cristienne Robert Dulac. You’ll do exactly as I tell you without a fuss.”
“Hoodoo,” he scoffed. “I don’t believe in that nonsense.”
She continued repeating her words in a monotone voice, and she retouched the places on his body with oil. He wanted to laugh, but he suddenly felt too strange. He didn’t know what drug they had fed him, but it was working. He wasn’t sleepy but very relaxed, and when the ropes slipped away from his wrists, he didn’t feel compelled to even move.
He sat that way for a long time and daydreamed about being on a ship. He could taste the salt in the air and hear the seagulls cry. He was so lost to the dream that he had trouble remembering his own name. A lady in a mask suddenly appeared on deck and took his hand. Her voice seemed vaguely familiar.
“Follow me, Cristienne Robert Dulac. Your crew needs to see you.”
Obediently, he did as she asked and soon they were below deck. A sea of faces stared at him curiously, and though he tried to address his crew, no words would come to mind. He simply stared at them, dumbfounded. He couldn’t remember what he was supposed to tell them.
He turned to the masked lady, and she raised a finger over where her lips should be. He nodded and looked back at his crew. Oddly, they shouted numbers at him, but he couldn’t fathom why.
“Do as I say, Cristienne Robert Dulac,” she said. “Look at your crew, and do not move.”
Unable to resist, he did as he was told. His eyes searched the sea of faces, and one in particular stood out among the crowd. The man was a giant, and he seemed familiar to Dulac. He stared at him, and the man shouted numbers.
The masked lady stepped in front of Dulac. “Time to show your muscles.”
She unbuttoned his silk pajama top, and he simply watched her hands. She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, and it fell to the ground behind him. The cool air caused goose bumps on his skin.
“Pick up those baskets of apples. Your crew is hungry,” she ordered.
To his right were two huge baskets overflowing with apples. He strained under their weight but managed to hold them at waist level. His biceps bulged and sweat beaded his brow. Minutes dragged by, and just when he thought he was about to drop them, the lady told him to put them down.
The voices shouted numbers louder than ever. He wanted to cover his ears but instead waited on the masked lady to tell him what to do next. At the moment, her focus was on the crowd. He wanted to look at them too but seemed rooted to the spot. When the shouting finally ended, someone behind him yelled.
“Sold, to the tall gentleman in the back.”
A foreboding tingle raced up his spine, and though he was not told to do so, he spun around to look at the man behind him. He didn’t recognize him and so turned to look at the tall man in the crowd. Something nagged at him.
Sold? Sold. What’s sold? Me? Am I being sold? No! Not again.
He turned to the masked lady. She was instantly at his side and apparently unaware of his inner turmoil. She held out her hand. He merely looked at it.
“Let’s go, Cristienne Robert Dulac. It’s time to go.”
Though his head was in chaos, his body obeyed her. He grabbed her hand and let her lead him off the stage.
Strange—I don’t have this on my ship.
They climbed a set of stairs and walked down a long hallway. The first room they passed was filled with men who were tied to the walls. He wanted to stop, but they were moving at a fast pace. The next room was filled with women. They were tied up as well. This time, he dug his feet in and forced the masked lady to stop.
“Who are they?” he asked, feeling the fog slipping away. “What are they doing on my ship?”
She hesitated. Panic edged her words. “Do as I say, Cristienne Robert Dulac. Follow me.”
He yanked his hand from hers as a mind-numbing headache attacked his eyes. He closed them and bent over. It was gone in an instant, and he saw her clearer.
“I told you,” he said quietly. “I don’t believe in Hoodoo.”
He hated to hit a woman, and while his soul screamed at him for doing so, he refused to be sold into slavery again. She fell against the wall and slid down. Her mask was knocked askew, and her closed eyes confirmed he’d knocked her out.
He looked in at the room full of captive women. They all stared at him hopefully. He felt like a dog as he took off down the hall. He was sure someone would come soon, and he had to escape. He took six steps, stopped and hung his head. With a great sigh, he turned around and went to help the women.
His hands shook as he tried to untie the first woman’s ropes. They were too tight, so he looked about for something sharp. Of course, the room was void of anything but the women. He looked at each of them and spoke as clearly as he could, despite the thickness of his tongue. “I will come back. I have to find something to cut the rope.”
He turned to the doorway and stopped in his tracks. The blood drained from his face at the sight of a six and a half foot man. He stood his ground as the giant approached.
Dulac held up his hands. “Wait. I can explain.”
He ducked as a fist flew at his head. He stumbled back. The drugs still swam in his blood. He held up his fists. “Wait.”
The Arab obviously did not speak English as he kept coming after Dulac. His fist was grabbed, and his bones cracked. He tried not to but soon found himself on his knees before the man. He tried like hell to get his hand free but knew this was the reason they kept the giant here. Stars exploded before his eyes, and the last thing he saw was the masked lady standing behind the giant.
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