Gabrielle

by Theresa Conway

  Gabrielle blinked in mingled fury and shock, pushing him away even more vigorously. “I hate you! How dare you presume to speak to me like that! Let me go, or I shall call the police and have you thrown in prison, you arrogant pirate!”

  “That is the second time you have used that term in referring to me. Would you like to see how a pirate treats a spirited wench, milady?”

  He lifted her off the ground, and she was held suspended for a moment, her legs dangling helplessly. Then he lifted her easily so that she lay against his chest, unable to do anything but glare defiantly at him. Her hair had tumbled from its pins and spilled luxuriously over his arm, its silky texture catching the glow from the firelight. Her eyes were luminous and a dark violet, her cheeks flushed becomingly from her exertions.

  He thought at that moment that she was the most desirable woman he had ever seen, and he could feel the ache in his loins demanding satisfaction. What impulse had led him to start this love play? he wondered in private amazement. She was beautiful but certainly not worth risking his neck if she did succeed in calling for help.

  “Please let me go,” she was saying, her voice holding a note of pleading now, and he could not help but be amused by her change in tactics.

  “I ask a price for all favors granted,” he answered her insolently.

  She gazed at him stubbornly, her mouth shaping into an irresistible pout. “It is granted in advance,” she finally got out, “but you must put me down immediately.”

  He stood her on her feet, holding her firmly with one hand so that she could not escape. “I want you to let me make love to you, kitten,” he said, the devilish look in his eyes.

  Gabrielle felt her throat go dry, and she could not swallow for a moment. “You—you cannot ask such a thing. I—I am still a maiden,” she murmured, blushing hotly.

  His arrogant laugh made her shudder. “Such information is supposed to disarm me, no doubt,” he went on. But as though his mood had suddenly changed, she heard him saying, “It is late, kitten, and I think that such designs as I might have on you would be wasted at this hour. Please be sure that I will collect my price at another time, though.” He released her and strode swiftly out of the room before she could even collect her thoughts.

  She stood for a moment hardly breathing until she heard the slam of the front door and the sound of his heels crunching the graveled court yard. The tears were gathering in her eyes as she made her way up the stairs, still shaking from her experience. The man was dangerous, a rogue who needed to have the insolence whipped out of him, she thought. But, she reminded herself with some shame, he had been right when he pointed out that she had let him kiss her. What was the matter with her?

  Chapter Seven

  It was early the next morning when Gabrielle was aroused from sleep by a soft knocking on her door. Chloe, who was laying out clothes for her to wear that day, hurried to answer it.

  Alexandre peered around the door, looking somewhat relieved to see Gabrielle blinking sleepily at him.

  “What is the matter, Alexandre?” she questioned him, barely troubling to conceal the yawn that escaped her. “How is Charles this morning?”

  “Better, under the circumstances, but he still has a slight fever.” He moved away as if to leave her room so that she could dress, but affecting an afterthought, he turned back and fixed her with a level stare. “I suppose you saw—you saw Charles’ rescuer to the door last night?”

  Gabrielle’s eyes widened, and she could not help the slight color that came to her face. “Captain Savage stayed for only a short time and then left,” she managed.

  “You introduced yourselves, then?” he asked, pressing her for an answer.

  She nodded noncommittally.

  “I find it rather strange, but,” and he cleared his throat, “I received a note earlier from Captain Savage asking if he might call on you.”

  Gabrielle felt her body stiffen. “Of course you declined, didn’t you?”

  He shook his head, at which her heart sank. “Under the circumstances, and as he expressed a wish to look in on Charles, I could not do otherwise than say yes. After all, I do owe him something for his actions last night.”

  His actions last night! Gabrielle shuddered, remembering the power and strength in those long-fingered hands and broad shoulders. She decided to face Alexandre squarely with her suspicions.

  “You know him from somewhere else, don’t you?” she asked him.

  It was Alexandre’s turn to flush, but he nodded as though he realized that it would do him no good to lie. “Yes. It is quite a long story, Gabrielle, but suffice it to say that I know he is a man with few scruples and no loyalties. He is an American—I believe his family comes from Virginia in the United States.”

  “And he is the one whom you called your American captain—the one who is involved with the smuggling— the one who was in the house next door the night of Isabel’s ball!” Gabrielle exclaimed suddenly, as everything fell into place. She turned in amazement towards Alexandre. “Of course! But didn’t you tell me that you were withdrawing from the smuggling?”

  His nod was vigorous. He realized that there was no point in dissembling before her. “Yes, I had a meeting with my business associate last evening to discuss exactly that. He was expecting Savage later on, so I am positive he too knows I am out of it.”

  Gabrielle frowned, her mind working. “And so he turns up at the convenient moment when Charles is in trouble. He brings your son here and then manages to obtain your permission to see me. You said yourself, Alexandre, that this man has no loyalties and no principles. Do you think—might he be thinking of blackmail?”

  Alexandre’s face sagged visibly. “He couldn’t be—he couldn’t.”

  “But yet, he knows that you were funding part of the business. He realizes what you have to lose, and if the profit was as good as you told me, perhaps he thinks you can afford the price of his silence.”

  Alexandre did not answer for a long moment. “In that case, I must play his game,” he finally muttered. “I cannot risk the scandal and Charles finding out. You will not tell Charles anything of this. Do I have your promise?”

  Gabrielle gave it halfheartedly, thinking it was rather too late for that now, and at the same time wondering if the price that Savage would set was higher than Alexandre would be able to afford. How could she be civil with him, let alone allow him to call on her with the knowledge that had just evolved? And how could Alexandre have given him permission to see her? She looked for a moment at the man, seeing, in a flash of understanding, the weakness that assailed him. She must have time to think.

  After Alexandre had left, she called Chloe back into the room. “I want to wear something especially nice,” she informed her, rising from the bed.

  Chloe brought out a lettuce-green gown of cool batiste trimmed with a froth of white lace at the neckline and hem. She dressed Gabrielle’s hair simply with a green fillet tied around the untidy curls and added a long sliver of silver chain at her throat. Gabrielle surveyed herself in the mirror with a critical air and was satisfied with the effect. At least Captain Savage could see she was a woman in command of her feelings and not some giddy, nightgown-clad fool.

  It was as she was coming downstairs and into the hall that she heard the outer bell. Instead of waiting for a servant to answer it, she opened the door herself.

  Deep green eyes appraised her with that maddening touch of insolence as the lips curved into a mocking smile. “Good day, Miss de Beauvoir.”

  Gabrielle struggled to regain her composure.

  “Why, Captain Savage! I’m—I was only just going up to my room with a—a headache.”

  His smile deepened, and she noticed the grooves on either side of his mouth that heightened the impression of recklessness. “May I come in?” he continued, and Gabrielle realized that she was holding the door as though to slam it shut on him.

  Embarrassed, she swung the door wider. “Do you wish to see the marquis? I’m afraid he’s not h
ere right now, but I will gladly give him your greetings, m’sieur.”

  He laughed deliberately, walking easily into the hall and closing the door softly behind him. “On the contrary, I have come to see you. Is that so hard for you to believe?” He was mocking her, taunting her, and Gabrielle felt her anger begin to build up unreasonably.

  “Frankly, captain, I do find it hard to believe as I am quite sure my feelings towards you have been expressed—” He was walking past her into the sitting room as though he was accustomed to entering wherever he pleased. “May I sit down?”

  Gabrielle, her face quite flushed now, hid her clenched fists in the folds of her gown. “Does it matter if I say yes or no, as I’m sure you will do what you wish anyway?”

  He sat down, his eyes running over her figure as minutely as though he were ready to fix a price on her. She steeled herself for an ordeal as she seated herself calmly on another chair.

  “Well, captain, you said you wanted to see me?”

  “I’m here to invite you to a dinner party.”

  “Really? Well, you must forgive me, but—”

  “I’m sure you will want to attend, as there will be quite a few personalities from the court. Perhaps even the new empress will be there.”

  Gabrielle’s mouth formed a round “O,” and for a moment she could not think what to say.

  “Does it surprise you that I walk in royal circles?” he questioned, and she could tell he was laughing at her.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, it does, captain, as I can only see that you are an American with no connections here, a man who commands a ship that—” She stopped abruptly, afraid that she would let him know how much she knew of his projects.

  “Go on, please,” he said, his voice deceptively silky as he leaned forward.

  “Projects that may or may not be wholly legitimate,” she finished, feeling suddenly as though she were walking on treacherous ground.

  He sat back in the chair again. “I didn’t realize that my projects concerned you enough to warrant your own investigation, but now I remember that you did accuse me of being a pirate the last time we met.”

  Gabrielle swallowed and nerved herself to present a composed face to him. “I remember that those men in the coffee shop called you a pirate and—and there was an Oriental woman with you then.”

  He laughed outright. “So, you would believe a pair of unlikely sailors, and just because I had a woman who was not of our descent you thought I must be a pirate. Really, I did give you more credit for intelligence, kitten. Did it ever occur to you that that woman could be my mistress?”

  Gabrielle flushed deeply. “I never gave it any thought, as my interest in you is hardly large enough to fill a thimble,” she said, barely controlling her anger.

  “Now, be honest with me, kitten,” he goaded her, the smile teasing her with its sardonic indolence.

  “Don’t call me that!” she burst out. “I suppose you call every woman you know by such familiar endearments!”

  “Not every woman,” he answered her softly, disarming her for a moment before she could whip up her anger again. “I think, kitten, you try too hard to dislike me.”

  Goaded past endurance, Gabrielle stood up and gave him a scathing look. “It is not hard to dislike a man who resorts to smuggling to fill his coffers,” she threw at him, and then, horrified at her disclosure, she saw the devilish look close over his features.

  “First a pirate, and now you accuse me of smuggling.” He seemed to think it over for a moment. “I think that perhaps you know too much about me, kitten, and it might prove ill for me if I didn’t do something about ensuring your silence.”

  For a moment, Gabrielle felt terrified. Then she realized that, as usual, he was mocking her apprehension. In her fury, she threw caution to the winds.

  “And don’t you think it would give me some pleasure, seeing you in jail where you belong, Captain Savage? Smuggling, as you must know, is a treasonous offense in these times and—”

  “—and your guardian is no less a party to it than I am, kitten, but you forget that for a man like me, a pirate as you insist, treason is a word that signifies nothing. I am an American, if you recall, and I have no ties here, whereas your guardian would be ruined if the authorities were to find out how he makes a profit.”

  Gabrielle remained silent for a moment, realizing that she had acted childishly and now must hold her temper. Of course, now he would tell her what he wanted from Alexandre—how much money it would take to silence him. Everything that had come before was only leading up to this moment, and she hated him for making her sit there in suspense while he played with her like a cat with a mouse.

  “I am sure, mademoiselle, that you understand how important it is to your guardian that you not inform on me, for that would necessarily drag him into unpleasantness.”

  She averted her eyes from his lazy smile and willed herself to remain calm.

  “This may come as a surprise to you, my sweet, but I am already quite wealthy for a man of only twenty-five years. My family has owned land in Virginia for a hundred years or more, and in that time, we have built up quite an extensive import operation, all legitimate.”

  “So, then, you are so wealthy that you must break the law to back your shipping operations?” she asked, her own voice betraying sarcasm.

  He shrugged. “That is a long story, but it is enough to say that I am considered the black sheep in the family and have always done things my own way, whether those means involved breaking the law or not. For your information, my smuggling adventures have been looked upon quite highly by the islanders in the West Indies, as it is their only means of obtaining goods from your country. You might even say that I am regarded as something of a hero,” he said, but there was no trace of smug self-importance in his voice.

  Gabrielle refused to be baited. They were both sitting silently attempting to gauge one another when Gabrielle heard Alexandre’s voice in the hall. She started, her eyes going to the door in alarm.

  “You must not—” she began, turning back to the man who lounged composedly in the chair.

  “Gabrielle?” Alexandre was at the door, the smile on his face turning to a look of concern when he saw his visitor. “Savage! What—what are you doing here?”

  The captain bowed. “I am trying to obtain your ward’s approval to my suggestion that I escort her to a dinner party this evening.” He gave Gabrielle a look of sardonic confidence. “Have you decided yet, mademoiselle?”

  Gabrielle bit her lip in vexation, furious that he had backed her into this corner. Barely able to get the words out calmly, she replied, “I would be happy to attend with you, captain.”

  “I will return at eight o’clock, then.” He bowed to her, and she curtseyed briefly before leaving the room.

  Once in her own room, she recalled that he had not brought up the subject of pricing his silence but had made a point of having no need for the profits obtained from smuggling. Had he been trying to impress her? she wondered. Vehemently determined not to enjoy herself in his company tonight, she rang the servants’ bell for Chloe.

  “I will be attending a dinner party with Captain Savage this evening, Chloe. I will need something suitable to wear.”

  “Yes, ma’m’selle, but of course, the new gown from M’sieur LeRoy would be the only one worthy of the occasion.”

  Gabrielle had ordered the gown especially for the bridal dinner to be held at Isabel’s house on the evening before be wedding. LeRoy had made it of the softest watered silk, in a color of deep lilac that complemented her eyes. It fairly floated around her as she walked. The bodice was cut extremely low, and the sleeves were actually nothing more than bits of rolled fabric adorned with crystals—they rested on her shoulders like straps. It was a daring gown, and Gabrielle smiled to herself picturing the look of amusement on the captain’s face if she wore it. After all, it would be an invitation, wouldn’t it! But not to the captain, she thought firmly. She would wear it, if only to tease him.
She refused to think of the consequences, confident that she could handle anything.

  “Yes, the new dress, Chloe, by all means,” she agreed. Chloe helped her into the gown after she had bathed and her hair had been dressed. It fit her almost like a second skin, matching the curves of her breasts and hips. Her bosom was exposed most daringly and the color of the dress made her skin seem almost translucent.

  “It really is too indecent,” Gabrielle commented, frowning at the alarming expanse of flesh that was exposed. “I shall take a shawl.”

  At exactly eight o’clock the carriage arrived. Gabrielle could hear the captain’s laughter in the hall as he spoke with Alexandre. How could he be so pleasant with Savage, when all the time the American is planning to play such a terrible trick on him! she thought furiously. Savage simply had no principles. She adjusted the shawl around herself, aware that the lace did little to conceal the ivory-gold of her skin. She walked down the hallway, taking a deep breath at the stairway landing before descending to the main foyer where both men were looking up at her, Alexandre with an agreeably entranced look on his face, and Captain Savage with that infuriating air of appraisal.

  “My dear, you look beautiful, like a butterfly with gauze wings,” Alexandre said, kissing her hand as he saluted her beauty.

  “Thank you,” Gabrielle said, smiling. She felt the captain’s hand at her elbow, steering her out to his carriage.

  “Savage, I put her well-being in your care tonight.” Alexandre’s voice held a note of warning in it.

  “Have no fear, her well-being will be my utmost concern,” Captain Savage retorted, not even turning his head.

  When they were seated in the carriage opposite each other,' Gabrielle was suddenly aware of the consummate power of the man, and she realized with some force that she was completely alone with him. She noticed that his own clothes were very fine. He wore a navy blue coat that deepened his eyes and an ivory waistcoat over his white linen shirt. His trousers matched the vest, and his knee-boots were polished to a slick black shine. She tightened the shawl around her as though for protection.