Destiny's Daughter

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  "If all goes well, there should be a shipment coming through the bayou tonight." Giving her a bright smile, Chase downed his coffee and reached for another fried cake.

  Annalisa watched the slow transformation in the older woman. A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Her eyes warmed. "You have an answer for everything, don’t you, Chase Masters?" Her voice lowered. "They won’t beat us, will they?"

  "Never." His tone was light, but Annalisa heard the underlying thread of steel. "Their kind can never beat us."

  Hattie Lee seemed to draw herself up straighter. Noting the maids who lingered in the kitchen, she began giving orders in that low, honeyed voice. "Why is the parlor not aired out yet? Have you set up a bed in the office for our guest? What about Eulalie’s room? She’ll need water, towels, blankets for Luther. Why are you standing about? Sweet Lord almighty, there’s work to be done."

  The women scattered, and Annalisa found herself alone with Chase.

  "How do you manage to sweep away everyone’s bad humor with a few words?"

  He smiled, that familiar self-deprecating smile. "It’s part of my charm."

  She shook her head. "I wouldn’t have believed you could calm Hattie Lee with so little effort."

  "She was just tired. All of you are. It was a long night." His tone softened. "How did you sleep?"

  She shivered at the tender look in his eyes. "Like a babe in a cradle."

  As she reached for a beignet, he caught her hand and turned it over, studying the raw, blistered flesh. His smile faded. His mouth tightened to a grim line. Lifting her hand to his lips, he pressed a kiss into her palm. She stood very still, absorbing the shock. Outside, one of the men called his name. Ignoring the distraction, he touched a hand to her cheek. The workman called him again, in a louder voice. With a sigh, Chase turned away. At the door he paused. "I want you to have Dr. Lynch look at those hands when he comes to examine Luther."

  "It isn’t important. They’ll heal."

  He was across the room in swift strides. Catching her roughly by the shoulders he muttered, "I won’t brook any argument about it. It’s important to me. Now have the doctor look at your hands."

  Without another glance he strode from the room.

  * * *

  The talk that night was animated.

  "Hooded men, you say? Did they recognize any of them?" Edmond Lafourcade watched as Annalisa moved about the room, smiling, flirting, as if nothing had happened.

  "They claimed not to," the police chief said, sipping his whiskey.

  "They should have given up the nigger," the mayor-elect responded dryly. "They could have done without a handyman easier than they can do without a barn."

  "I suppose then they’d be back the next night demanding Hattie Lee."

  "No loss," Lafourcade said with a shrug. "Just one more nigger."

  "Miss Montgomery seems to be a woman of strong principles," Boulanger remarked.

  One of the group laughed. "She may be a dead woman of principles."

  Chase showed no expression as he listened to the conversation drift around him. When Charles Montagnet entered, his eyes narrowed. It was the only change in his expression.

  "Good evening, my dear." Montagnet bowed over Annalisa’s lace-gloved hand and brushed her knuckles with his lips. "What is this I hear? A little trouble last night? I hope none of you was hurt."

  "Your concern is touching. My handyman was seriously wounded. He lies upstairs, fighting for his life."

  "And you, Annalisa? Were you harmed?"

  She gave him a cool look. "As you can see, I survived."

  "I’ve never seen you wear these before." Lifting her hand, he studied the lacy, fingerless gloves, then turned her palm up. Through the ivory filigree he could see the stark white bandages. "Have you cut yourself?"

  Yanking her hand from his grasp, she said in a low tone, "You wear your false concern well, Charles. But now you can stop this hypocrisy. You know very well that my life was threatened last night."

  "And how could I know that?"

  "Because it was done on your orders."

  "If you are suggesting that I was somehow involved in last night’s incident, you are wrong." Catching her shoulder, he leaned close and whispered, "If I had wanted you dead, you would be."

  "Take your hand from me." Seeing the surprised expression on his face, she pressed her advantage. "If you should forget and touch me again, I shall be forced to do something most unpleasant."

  "Weep?" he asked with mock concern.

  She lifted her chin and gave him a look of cool dismissal. "I’ll be forced to shoot you."

  She swept past him without another glance. Across the room, Chase saw the look of pure hatred that clouded Montagnet’s features. The man was getting close to the breaking point. And that made him even more dangerous.

  The hour was late when Nate Blackwell arrived. Seeing Annalisa across the room, he hurried to her side.

  "I heard that your barn was burned. Were you hurt?"

  She was moved by the look of concern that marred his handsome features. "No, Nate. I’m fine. But where have you been? You’ve been away so long."

  As she studied his face she noted the faint smudges beneath his eyes, the weary lines that etched his mouth.

  "I have been—keeping to myself. I needed to be alone."

  "It isn’t good to be alone." Linking her arm through his, she led him to a settee. "Stay awhile. Have a glass of sherry with me."

  With a little half-smile playing about his lips, he allowed himself to savor her tender ministrations. "You spoil me, Annalisa." Accepting a glass of the amber liquid from a maid, he sipped and felt himself relax. It was the first time the tension had left him in weeks. "I heard a rumor that your attackers were hooded. Is this true?"

  Annalisa nodded and quickly told him what had happened. When she finished, his face was visibly paler. Reaching out a hand to hers, he said, "You must not stay here."

  Annalisa glanced at the hand covering hers and wondered, as she had so often, why she felt nothing at his touch. Meeting his gaze she replied, "Where would I go?"

  "I don’t know. Somewhere far away from this place." His tone deepened. "Leave New Orleans, Annalisa. Something evil is happening here."

  "We can fight it, Nate." She wondered if this would be the time that he would tell her about his role as the Archangel. She wanted him to share his secret with her, so that she could finally tell him how much she admired him. Pressing on, she said softly, "We’re strong enough to fight the evil. Look how much has already been done to help the less fortunate."

  "And do you think some mysterious archangel will intervene in your fight with these hooded ones? Is that it, Annalisa?" He sounded genuinely frightened. "What will it take for you to stop believing that good always triumphs over evil?"

  Annalisa gave him a gentle smile and squeezed his hand. "Are you testing me?" At his blank expression her smile grew. "That’s it. This is a test of my will. Oh, Nate. You know I believe in miracles. And though you try to hide it, you do, too."

  Signaling for the maid, Annalisa handed him another glass of sherry and noted that while they talked, his color gradually improved.

  Across the room, Chase watched the two figures on the settee and fought a wave of bitter jealousy.

  * * *

  Wearily Annalisa made her way to the office with the night’s receipts. The evening had seemed endless, and the last of their visitors had left an hour ago. As soon as they were alone, Chase’s men had arrived with the shipments that had been transported through backwaters and bayous to avoid detection. Hattie Lee had insisted on checking every crate and box before going to bed. Now, with the others having retired, Annalisa couldn’t wait to record the night’s receipts and go to her room.

  Opening the door, she paused at the sight of Chase, standing shirtless by the window.

  "Oh. I’m sorry. I forgot that Hattie Lee had a bed set up in here for you."

  Turning, she was almost out the door whe
n Chase’s voice stopped her. "Come in. This is still your office. I don’t want my presence here to be a problem."

  A problem? She nearly smiled, then swallowed it back. The sight of Chase’s flat belly and hair-roughened chest was more of a problem than he would ever know. If only she knew more about men and women.

  "I’ll just put away the money and let you sleep." Tearing her gaze from him she hurried to a small bookcase and removed several books, revealing the money box behind them. Hearing his chuckle, she said, "You did tell me to keep hiding the money in different places."

  "So I did."

  Replacing the money box, she set the books back in place and turned. Chase had moved and was standing directly behind her.

  Swallowing, she said, "I hope you’re comfortable here."

  "I’ve learned to be comfortable anywhere."

  She took a step around him. "Sleep well."

  "Stay awhile."

  Annalisa froze. What was he saying? She couldn’t possibly stay here with him. She couldn’t. As she took another step, he placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She felt him take a step behind her until their bodies were touching. She could feel the heat of his body, his warm breath against her temple. And then his hands were gripping her shoulders, drawing her firmly against the length of him.

  "Stay with me, Annalisa."

  "Oh, Chase." The words of protest died in her throat as his arms came around her, his fingers splayed across her rib cage, his wrists brushing the underside of her breasts.

  "Don’t say a word." His lips caressed a tangle of hair, sending a spasm of sensation along her spine. "Just stay here, and lie in my arms, and let me love you."

  She leaned back against him, feeling her softness melting into his strength. How easy it would be. How right it seemed. This attraction had been there from the first moment they’d met. All these long months she’d been fighting her feelings for this man. But she was afraid. There was so much she didn’t know. She would die if Chase laughed at her inexperience.

  Ever so gently he turned her in his arms until she was facing him. She forced herself not to stare at his naked chest, the wide sweep of shoulders. A terrible fascination seemed to hold her enthralled. In her eyes was a look of expectancy he’d never seen before. Without a word he bent his lips to hers. She felt the sudden jolt, as her heart slammed against her ribs, and then an ache that started deep inside her and seemed to fill her with a need greater than anything she’d ever known.

  His kiss filled her, then drained her. And still it wasn’t enough. As he took the kiss deeper, she knew she could never again be satisfied with just his kiss. She needed to be closer, to be one with him. She clung, as if needing to crawl inside his skin. As if sensing her need, he drew her so tightly against him she could feel him with every part of her body.

  Tentatively bringing her hands to his shoulders, her fingertips played over his muscles. How wonderful his flesh felt to the touch. How strong he was. How different his body was from hers. And yet they complimented each other. His angular hardness, her softness. His fierce strength, her delicate gentleness. Wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers tangled in the dark hair at his nape. His breath carried the tang of whiskey and the fainter bite of tobacco. So male. So different from the soft woman scents of this house. She breathed in the musky scent of him and found it oddly intoxicating.

  Her breath was coming faster now, and her heart beat a steady tattoo in her chest. It excited her to feel the irregular beat of his heart, and to know that his breathing was as ragged as hers. Had she caused this excitement in him, or did men feel this for any woman?

  As he bent his lips to her throat, the blood began roaring in her temples. Louder, louder it roared, until it seemed to shake the walls.

  Reluctantly, Chase lifted his head, and she felt a sense of loss. Why had he pulled away? Had he sensed her lack of experience? Did he find her inadequate? Annalisa took several deep breaths and heard the pounding once more. Louder. And then louder still. And then she realized. It wasn’t her pulse. Chase had heard it, too. Someone was pounding on the back door.

  "Maybe it’s a drunk." Chase’s voice was gruff with anger. "He’ll go away."

  Annalisa laughed at the frown of impatience on his face and felt a growing elation. He hadn’t wanted to pull away. He hadn’t yet discovered her—inadequacy.

  Bending his lips to hers, he nibbled on her lower lip, nipping, suckling, until he again felt her acquiescence. Taking the kiss deeper, he groaned when the pounding began again.

  This time Annalisa drew away. All of this was happening too quickly. There was so much she didn’t know. She needed time to sort out her thoughts. With her hands pressing against his shoulders, she struggled to speak. "I have to go. That pounding will wake the others."

  He continued to hold her, loving the way she looked. Her eyes were dark with desire. Her lips were still moist and swollen from his kiss. Brushing his lips over hers, he dropped his hands, clenching them at his sides. She heard his little hiss of anger. "All right. But hurry back. I miss you already."

  His words, spoken so gruffly, sent tremors through her.

  * * *

  As she hurried from the room, Chase cursed himself for his carelessness. His desire for her was clouding his thinking. Heaven only knew what danger could be outside that door. Swearing under his breath, he pulled a gun from the pocket of his coat and followed along the darkened hall.

  At the glass, Annalisa was stunned to see Nate Blackwell’s face.

  Throwing open the door, she called, "Nate. Whatever are you doing here at this hour?"

  "Annalisa, you must wake everyone and get them out of here."

  "What are you talking about?"

  Wordlessly Chase came up behind her, holding the gun at his side.

  If Nate was surprised at his presence, he was too distracted to show it, and too much the gentleman to dwell on the fact that Annalisa’s hair was mussed, her face infused with bright color. And Chase was wearing nothing more than tight breeches.

  "I was on my way home when I heard the sound of horses’ hooves." To both of them Nate said ominously, "I hid in the woods and watched. There are nearly a dozen horsemen. Armed. Hooded. And heading this way. You have to get the others away from here and hide."

  Annalisa turned wide eyes to Chase. Seeing the gun in his hand, she decided instantly. "We aren’t running, Nate." Her voice was firm, with no trace of the fear that quivered through her. Turning to Chase, she called, "I’ll wake the others. You check the rifles."

  He nodded and started down the hallway at a run. Standing uncertainly in the doorway, Nate called, "You can’t seriously think a few helpless women can hold off a dozen men."

  "Armed women," Annalisa called from the stairway. "We’re far from helpless. And you’re free to join us if you’d like."

  Chase turned in time to see Nate mop his forehead with a linen handkerchief. Staring into the darkness, he seemed torn with indecision. Then, firmly closing and locking the door, he followed Chase down the hall.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Annalisa took the stairs two at a time, cursing the ungainly skirt and petticoats that nearly tripped her. Halfway up the steps she unfastened her skirt and stepped out of it and the heavy undergarments, draping them over her arm before tearing along the hallway wearing only her blouse and knee-length pantalettes.

  Pounding on doors, she shouted, "Armed men approaching. Hurry downstairs and take up your weapons. Chase will show you where to position yourselves. Hurry."

  The women stumbled from their rooms, eyes glazed, minds clouded with sleep. Within minutes, however, they were alert and hurrying down the stairs. There was no time to bother with clothes. They wore whatever they were sleeping in, from simple night shifts to glittery peignoirs.

  Eulalie threw open the door to her room. Behind her, Luther propped himself on one elbow in her bed.

  "You’d better stay here with Luther," Annalisa said.

  "No. As long as I can sh
oot a rifle, I belong with the others."

  Luther’s voice came out in a croak between parched lips. "Get me a gun, Miss Montgomery."

  "No, Luther. You can’t get out of bed. You’ll start those wounds bleeding again."

  Eulalie rushed to his side and gently eased him back against the pillows. "Promise me you’ll stay here."

  "Then give me a knife," he whispered. "In case one of them makes it to this floor."

  Eulalie shuddered, and brushed away the image that sprang to her mind. Opening a drawer, she withdrew a sharp hunting knife that had been hidden under silken underthings and placed it in his hand, wrapping his fingers around it. For long moments she continued to hold his hand, willing him some of her strength. She leaned down and brushed a tender kiss across his forehead. Then, pulling on Luther’s shirt over her nakedness, she hurried down the stairs.

  Into the chaos Chase barked orders. "Check your rifles. Make certain they’re loaded. Choose a window or doorway that looks out onto the front drive. They’ll probably approach from that direction. No one fires until I call a signal. We can’t afford to waste shots. Wait until they’re close enough to see clearly. Don’t shoot at shadows. And whatever you do, don’t panic." He glanced at the women, nervously loading their rifles. He had never dreamed that one day he would be commanding such a ragged army.

  His glance rested on Annalisa. Clad only in undergarments, she calmly checked her rifle. Seeing her cool acceptance of the terrifying situation, he felt his heart swell. She was the most amazing woman he’d ever met.

  "Blow out all the candles," he ordered. "They must not know we have been warned of their arrival. Surprise is our best weapon."

  When the last candle was extinguished, he studied the shadowy figures huddled in the pale light cast by a half-moon.

  "Nate, is this gun adequate?" Chase indicated the military issue that he had tossed at Nate’s feet. "Or would you prefer a rifle? I have an extra one you can use."

  Nate picked up the gun, a Spenser eight-shot, which carried seven cartridges in the butt stock, while another was inserted in the chamber. It had been a Union issue. He had seen them used often against his own men in battle. Something inside him seemed to freeze. "I’ll use this." He mopped at the beads of sweat that coursed in little rivers to his eyes.