The Merchant's Yield

by Lorri Dudley

  “What if he is on his way here?” Lafitte asked.

  “His other ship is badly damaged. He has no means to sail, nor does he know of my whereabouts.” Pain sliced her chest. “I have brought him nothing but worry and burden, but I won’t rest until I’m certain he understands these unfortunate incidents were not his fault. He is not cursed.”

  “Are you trying to demean your value?” Lafitte arched a brow. “Do you not want Fielding to earn a single shilling?”

  Lottie raised her chin. “You intend to purchase me? Even though I was never Fielding’s to sell?”

  Lafitte shrugged. “What if I say you are plunder taken from a British ship?”

  “You will not honor your friendship and champion me?”

  “It is still to be determined. I have yet to hear Captain Fielding’s view.”

  Lottie swallowed hard against the fear rising in her stomach. “Captain Lafitte, I have been in bondage most of my life, a slave to my fears, a slave to my doubts, but I have found freedom through Christ. You may do what you want to me. You can throw me in chains, you can make me a servant, or sell me as a slave, but I will never be in bondage again. You may have me serve you, but I will be serving God. He is my protector and my refuge.”

  Jean Lafitte’s black eyes held hers. He blinked several times, then a slow smile grew upon his lips.

  A splash sounded to Nathan’s right as another alligator dipped into the greenish duckweed. Hairs rose on his arms and neck. He hated alligators, but Laffite’s smuggler’s haven resided on Grand Terre in a maze of swampland where bayous, rivers, inlets, and marshes meshed together.

  Laffite had once shown him the map of his grand plan and even asked Nathan’s advice for fortifications. If Fielding sold Lottie to Laffite’s men, she’d be brought to Barataria’s Temple auctions.

  Nathan and Baby paddled past the floating logs with hungry yellow eyes. Middleton and Lady Etheridge balanced the boat in the center. Cypress trees dripping with Spanish moss lined the brackish water. Their root base fanned out like fingers dipping into a washbasin—some wider than he was tall.

  The borrowed British frigate remained anchored in Dispute Bay, less than two miles from Grand Terre and out of sight. The Katherine’s crew kept the British soldiers acquiesced by feeding them tales and rum. If that didn’t work, Nathan had told Cobble to remind the men who had their captain and weapons. But he’d commanded them not to let harm come to anyone.

  “No woman is worth risking a man’s life like this.” Anthony’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession, winded from paddling.

  A thud sounded behind Nathan.

  “Ow.” Anthony rubbed the back of his head.

  Baby smiled a toothless grin and dipped his oar back in the water without missing a stroke.

  “Cut that out.” Anthony twisted in his seat.

  “Harrumph.” Lady Etheridge sat prim and proper behind Nathan. “You got off easy.” She closed her parasol. “One more word and I’ll poke your eye out.” She held the blunt end up under his chin. “Maybe the pirates will mistake you as one of their own and keep you.”

  Middleton drew back. His panicked eyes pleaded to Nathan for help.

  “Less complaining, more paddling.” Nathan kept his tone commanding, but couldn’t tamp down his smile.

  A graceful white crane stood with its feet in the murky water and eyed their passing boat. It held beauty and grace, even though it stood in the muck with predators all around. Nathan’s heart clenched. How was Lottie faring in this den of thieves? Was she scared? Had they hurt her? He jabbed his oar into the water too far out.

  “Careful now.” Baby leaned right to balance the boat. “We don’t want ta go swimmin’ in these waters.”

  Nathan forced his fingers to relax. He once again picked up the monotonous rhythm. The crane dipped its head and retrieved a crayfish with its beak. Somehow, the graceful bird survived. God, protect Lottie. You’re in control. I’m trusting in You.

  He mentally outlined their plan once again. Better to focus on strategy than on Lottie being hurt, or the alligators and other lethal creatures looming underneath the duckweed.

  He had three hours to get to Grand Terre, locate Lottie, and get back.

  Chapter 36

  The pleasure of your company is requested to break our fast in the gold dining room promptly at nine in the morning.

  ~ From Jean Lafitte to Lady Winthrop

  “Monsieur Lafitte has asked for you to join him to break yer fast, madame.” Lena curtsied and left the room.

  Lottie inhaled a deep breath. It was time to learn her fate.

  So far, she’d been treated like an honored guest. This morning, another gown awaited her in her closet, this one a vibrant blue. She had no choice but to don it. The dress she’d arrived in had been disposed of, according to her maid. The girl claimed it was ruined and not fit to dine in amongst the company of the brothers Lafitte.

  Lottie peeked into the looking glass. The color of her latest gown contrasted with her hair, accentuating the red so bright, her head appeared on fire. The last thing she needed was to draw attention. “Was there a bonnet or cap left with the gown?” she asked the maid.

  “Non, madame.”

  So much for that.

  Lottie slid on a pair of satin gloves and cracked open her door. The hallway was empty, and she strolled toward the dining area. It wouldn’t be proper to keep the Baratarians waiting.

  Fingers clamped on her upper arm, and she was yanked into an alcove. She winced as her shoulder bumped a shelf. A large Chinese urn wobbled but didn’t topple.

  Captain Fielding’s face hovered inches from hers, his gray eyes as hard as the steel of a sword. A cynical smile twisted his lips.

  “Enjoying yourself, mi cherie?”

  She yanked her arm from his grasp. “Does Julia know you call other women her pet names?”

  “The name for one lightskirt works as well as for another.”

  Her fingers curled into fists. “What do you want?”

  “A great deal of coin, and you are going to help me get it. Lafitte shall pay plenty for you. There are men who prefer pale skin and red hair, and Lafitte knows it.”

  Her chest constricted. Was that why the vibrant blue dress had been left for her?

  “You’ve dressed the part. Now I can name a higher price, but if you’re thinking of getting comfortable with Jean Lafitte so you can live in this splendor, I hate to disappoint you. Lafitte doesn’t care for fair skinned women. He prefers a blend of dark and light.”

  She had no intention of getting comfortable with anyone, but she had noticed several mulatto women in Jean Lafitte’s company last evening.

  “I shall warn you.” His chin jutted forward. “If you keep opening your mouth and spilling your grievances, I shall return to St. Kitts with stories of how you ran off because Nathan wasn’t fulfilling his duties as a husband. I will explain how you threw yourself into the arms of the handsome pirate, begging Lafitte to make you his own.”

  Lottie snorted. “Nathan would never believe you.”

  “Nathan believes whatever I tell him,” the captain snarled. “And if you don’t keep your mouth shut, I will make certain the curse itself falls upon Nathan. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to your beloved husband, would you now?”

  Lottie raised her chin, but said nothing.

  Captain Fielding released a hollow laugh. “You still hold onto the hope that Lafitte will return you to him.” He grunted. “As if Winthrop ever wanted you.”

  He pressed her back against the wall with the palm of his hand.

  Lottie refused to cower in the face of such a man, despite the shooting pain in her collar bone. I may be hard pressed on every side, but I am not crushed. I may be struck down but I am not destroyed.

  “Winthrop hated being shackled to a willowy, sickly, female he’d been forced to marry. He told me so himself.” He strummed his fingers on her neck, a warning that he could squeeze the life out of her this very insta
nt. “And even if Winthrop somehow had developed a tendre for you, he has no idea where you’ve disappeared to. And, even if he did, the Katherine is half sunk and almost beyond repair.” His lips curled back in a snarl of a smile, and he punctuated his words. “You. Have. No. Hope.”

  “You’re wrong. My hope is in Jesus. You may sell me to the highest bidder, or you may kill me, but you can’t take that from me.”

  He snorted. “What good is an ancient dead man going to do you? Go ahead and pray. Not even God can save you now.”

  “Bonjour, Lady Winthrop.”

  Captain Fielding dropped his hand and stepped back at the sound of Captain Dominique’s voice.

  “Is this le mec bothering you?”

  She stepped around Fielding and accepted Captain Dominique’s arm. “Pardon me. I do not want to keep Captain Jean Lafitte waiting.”

  Captain Dominique escorted her the rest of the way to the dining room, ignoring Captain Fielding in his wake.

  The men rose from the table as she entered. Captain Dominique seated her next to Jean Lafitte before assuming the chair on her right. Captain Fielding found an open chair down the table next to Captain Phelps. Everyone sat to a hearty fare of eggs, bacon, and tropical fruit.

  “Did you sleep well, Madame Winthrop?” Jean Lafitte asked over a bite of eggs.

  “Indeed, my accommodations are exceptional. I appreciate your hospitality.”

  “Do you flatter me in hopes to win my favor?”

  “I do so because it is the truth, and it is proper to compliment the host.”

  “Spoken like a true member of the Quality.”

  More coffee and pastries of all kinds were served, and lighthearted banter switched to business topics, like Britain’s demand letter to entice Lafitte to fight for them against the Americans, and Louisiana’s Governor Claiborne’s lack of response to the Lafittes’ pardon request. Lottie’s mind screamed to know her fate, but also dreaded to know the outcome.

  Jean Lafitte’s black eyes flashed. “We are Americans. We have never attacked an American ship. We are willing to fight for our country.” He addressed Captain Dominique. “Have Grymes write up another compelling letter to Governor Claiborne and Blanque in the legislature. Dash it all. Pen one to General Andrew Jackson. He’ll be coming to Louisiana to battle the British, and when he does, he will better understand the country’s need of our help.”

  A young messenger ran into the room. His chest heaved with the exertion. He whispered his message to Dominique You. Captain Dominique’s expression hardened.

  When the lad pulled away, Dominique leaned across Lottie’s plate to speak to Captain Lafitte. “The British frigate we’ve been watching anchored in Dispute Bay. Three men and a woman in a dinghy are rowing through the marsh to Grand Terre.”

  A low snarl emanated from deep in Jean Lafitte’s throat. “What is he thinking sailing into Barataria on a British vessel?” He crossed his arms. “I do not like all these British associations. Claiborne will think we are siding with England. I cannot invite more suspicion.”

  He pounded two fingertips on the table. “Have Grymes add the British papers with my letter to Claiborne. We shall be open about the British trying to woo our support. Tell Claiborne I am a stray sheep wishing to return to the fold and offer our services to fight for Louisiana.” Lafitte scratched his sideburn. “Keep men on watch. If the frigate tries to leave the bay, seize it. Bring the others to me.” Lafitte’s dark brows drew together. “You say he brings a woman with him? What does he expect? A trade?”

  Lafitte cast Lottie a sideways glance, and she held her breath. A trade for who? Her?

  Captain Dominique chuckled. “It would not be a fair trade. The woman is well past her prime.” He leaned back in his chair and relayed the orders to the messenger.

  Laffite threw back the rest of his drink in a swallow and stared at his glass, but it seemed as if he was not truly seeing it. “A British frigate and a woman. Curious.”

  Lottie set down her fork, unable to touch another bite of food. What she’d already eaten swirled in her stomach. Everyone else continued on with their meals, laughing and telling tales. Their lives didn’t depend on the decisions being made today.

  An hour later, the footmen gathered the empty plates, and Captain Fielding raised a glass to draw everyone’s attention. “It is Baratarian smuggled goods and the sale of black ivory that keeps Louisiana and the country happy and working.”

  “Aye!” echoed around the room.

  Fielding leaned in. “Captain Lafitte.” The sparkle in his eyes dulled. “I have brought you prime goods. It cannot be contested. Already my sugar and rum are being sold fer high prices in the Temple. I must request my compensation, so I may be on my way.”

  “Captain Dominique will settle with you for your cargo, minus the damage done to our ship.”

  Fielding’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. “Fine, but I shall also take $2,500 for the fancy lady.” He nudged his head toward Lottie.

  Lafitte arced a brow. “And how does your friend, Winthrop, feel about you selling his wife?”

  “Believe you me, he is happy to be done with the strumpet.”

  “I cannot in good conscience purchase a woman without her husband’s consent.”

  “Since when does a pirate hold such scruples?”

  Lafitte slammed his fist onto the table and half rose from his chair. “I am not a pirate.”

  Fielding stilled.

  “My men are privateers, corsairs”—Lafitte’s nostrils flared—“and above all, Americans.”

  “My apologies,” Fielding spit out through tight lips.

  “A man lives and dies by his honor.” Lafitte’s gaze dug into Fielding’s pale face. “It is time to determine the truth.” He raised a hand. “Let him enter.”

  A footman bowed and opened one of the doors. One of Lafitte’s men shoved a dark-haired man in a billowing white shirt and buff breeches into the room. He stumbled to get his legs under him without the aid of his hands, which were tied behind his back.

  Lottie twisted in her chair.

  The man straightened, and a pair of piercing blue eyes sought hers.

  “Nathan!” Lottie pushed her chair back, eager to lurch toward him, but Captain Dominique’s fingers wrapped around her upper arm, holding her in place.

  Nathan’s face hardened, and he struggled against his bindings. “Unhand my wife, you scoundrel.”

  “Winthrop, old friend, good to see you.” Jean Lafitte rose from his chair. “After meeting the beautiful Lady Winthrop, I had a feeling you’d turn up in these parts. I must commend you on your speed. I didn’t expect you for another week or two, but then again, you were always a great sailor.” He signaled to his brother to cut the bindings. “Please pardon our lack of hospitality. We needed to be certain it was you.”

  Pierre Lafitte pulled a cutlass out of his belt and sliced the leather bindings.

  Nathan rubbed his wrists, but ignored his old schoolmates. His eyes remained locked on Lottie as if she were the only one in the room. “Are you hurt? They didn’t…”

  She shook her head. Her heart pounded as if attempting to break through her chest. He came for me. He’s here. “How did you—?”

  “Charlie found me.” He stepped towards her. His eyes broke contact and shifted to Captain Dominique with an expression that could only be read as begging.

  Nathan didn’t beg.

  Dominique glanced at Jean Lafitte, who nodded. Dominique’s fingers released her arm.

  Lottie stepped forward, but a sudden shyness washed over her. Nathan had never shown her affection in public. Would he desire it now?

  Nathan closed the distance, clasping her to his chest against the thudding beat of his heart. The scents of salt and ocean air engulfed her, and she melted into his embrace, absorbing his heat and strength. A sob wrenched its way from her throat, and his shirtfront soaked up her tears.

  He cupped her face in his hands and lifted her chin to meet her gaze. “I’
m so sorry, darling. I promise to be a better husband. If you can forgive me, I will never allow you to leave my side again.”

  He claimed her mouth with his own. His lips, tender and ardent, slid over hers with a hungry, soul-reaching passion. His hands dipped into her hair, and he deepened the kiss. She could taste the tang of her tears on his lips as she clung to him, weeping like a babe yet filled to overflowing with joy.

  Several whoops and whistles filled the room.

  Lottie broke the kiss. The tips of her ears burned, and she chewed her bottom lip. She couldn’t meet the eyes of the men who’d just witnessed their passionate display. Surely, they’d now believe her a wanton woman.

  Nathan tucked a loose tendril behind her ear before stepping aside to face the jury of corsairs. He slid his hand down her arm and laced his fingers with hers.

  “Where do you think yer going?” Nez Coupe’s voice rang out in the silence of the room. He was facing away from them, and she craned to see to whom he spoke. “Lafitte isn’t done with you yet.” He blocked the servants’ exit and pointed a cutlass at Fielding’s belly.

  “Indeed.” Jean Lafitte planted his fists on his hips. “There is still much to be discussed. The number one thing being whether Captain Fielding is a cheat and a traitor?” He turned to Nathan. “I have heard Fielding’s tale, along with your wife’s. I’d like to hear what you have to say in the matter, Winthrop.”

  Nez Coupe grasped Fielding and dragged him closer so he stood on the far side of the table.

  Nathan stiffened, and his grip on her hand tightened. With what seemed considerable effort, he turned away from Fielding and focused on Lafitte. “I have been deceived by a man I considered a loyal friend. It has been brought to my attention that Captain Fielding has been selling my wares on the black market and blaming their disappearance on raids made by your men.”

  Jean Lafitte lifted a brow. “Fielding has done business at the Temple and shared the profits, but he claimed the goods to have been taken from Spanish ships. Your name was never mentioned until your wife asked for a parley.”