"Is his father a member of your crew?"
Laughing lightly, Simone shook her head. "I know nothing of his father except I am quite certain Esperanza killed him."
Simone seemed amused by the startled look on Julia's face. "Esperanza was the property of a plantation owner on one of the islands. Joaquin is the son of the plantation owner's brother. When I brought them to live aboard Le Faucon de Mer, Joaquin was nearly five-years-old already. Esperanza is of mixed blood, as is her son. But that is enough to make them slaves in your country and many other places. It is an abominable institution. The only good thing the British have ever done is to outlaw it."
"She does not seem to spend much time with her son." Occasionally observing Joaquin and his mother interact from a distance Julia wasn't able to see much affection between them.
"He is the product of an unwanted liaison. She provides for him."
"He seems much closer to you," Julia commented.
"He is the son I will never have. He is aware of the circumstances of his creation."
"It all seems rather depressing."
"Life is what it is, Mademoiselle. No one can predict what the future holds for each of us. We make our way through what we call life the best way we can. More than that we cannot dream of."
"Why do you do this? Sail around with no purpose, attacking other ships?"
"I have a purpose, but it is mine alone. If others choose to follow me that is their choice."
"You could have decided to put me on one of the long boats with the others."
"That is true." Julia watched as Simone held her glass up to the light and observed the color and clearness of her wine.
"Why didn't you?"
Cocking her head slightly, Simone shrugged. "I cannot say. It was an irrational decision made on the spur of the moment."
"Well," Julia smiled, "we all make irrational decisions from time to time."
Their conversation was interrupted as the cabin door opened and Esperanza stepped inside. Glancing from Simone to Julia, she asked, "Am I interrupting?"
"Of course not, my dear." Simone smiled at the woman and motioned her closer. Esperanza bent down and kissed Simone lightly. "Mademoiselle Blanchard had an unpleasant experience and I offered her something to eat."
Julia felt self-conscious in the presence of the two women and stood. "If you will excuse me, Captain. I am a little tired." A glance at Esperanza caused Julia to hope she could find some way to lock the door to her small cabin.
Rising and hugging Esperanza, Simone said, "I shall return in a moment, cheri." Crossing the cabin in long strides, Simone opened the door for Julia.
"It is not necessary for you to escort me to my cabin, Captain."
"It would be my honor, Mademoiselle." As Julia passed by her, Simone's hand came to rest on the small of her back.
Simone stopped before they reached the ladder to the second deck. Looking around briefly until she saw her second in command, she asked, "Has the problem
been taken care of?"
"The trash has been removed, Faucon," he replied.
"Thank you, Henri." Pressing lightly on Julia's back, Simone went down the ladder and took Julia's hand to assist her in the darkness. The passageway showed no sign that a man died there less than an hour before. As Julia reached her cabin she stopped and spun around, almost running into Simone. "I...I am sorry that my presence has led to the death of your crewman."
"He made a decision and it turned out poorly for him. You were not to blame." Unexpectedly Simone bent slightly and kissed Julia on both cheeks. "Rest well, Mademoiselle."
"Thank you," Julia barely managed to say as Simone reached around her and opened the door to the cabin, brushing lightly against her. Julia's breathing stopped as Simone's face passed close to hers and their eyes met. As soon as she entered the room and closed the door behind her, Julia leaned back against it. Simone's rich bay rum scent still lingering in her mind, her cheeks burning where Simone's lips touched her. Shit! In another time and place she would have gladly invited the sultry woman to join her in the cabin. Or perhaps in my bed, she thought and then blushed at the idea.
Chapter Seven
A LITTLE MORE than a week passed before Le Faucon sailed around the southern point of the island of Martinique and made anchor in a cove on the eastern shore of the island. A cheer went up from the crewmen and Julia watched as Joaquin stood in front of Simone while she piloted the ship into a small cove. The captain ordered the anchor dropped when the crew lowered the last sails. Seeing Julia observing them, Joaquin waved and said something to Simone, who nodded and smiled at Julia. Joaquin ran down the steps and came to a breathless stop in front of Julia. She heard Simone issue orders to make the long boats ready. Moments later, Esperanza mounted the steps to stand beside Simone, wrapping an arm around her waist and pointing to something on shore.
"Look!" Joaquin said as he jumped onto the bottom rail surrounding the deck.
Julia shielded her eyes from the sun and wished again she had her Ray-Bans. "What is it, Joaquin?"
"Les chevaux," he smiled up at her.
Julia watched a small group of men lead six magnificent horses onto the sandy beach. The animals appeared to be high spirited, prancing in the sand along the shoreline as if they, too, were excited by the sight of the returning ship. Julia was startled as Simone brushed past her and climbed over the railing. She dropped into one of the long boats and waited to help Esperanza and Joaquin aboard the boat. Looking up, she motioned to Julia to climb down. She looked hesitantly at Kitty.
"Go on, Julia," Kitty smiled. "I will be on the next boat with Anton."
Julia looked at the Irish woman curiously. The maid had disappeared several times during the voyage to Martinique and Julia had seen her walking on deck with Anton many evenings. Swinging a leg over the railing, Julia clung tightly to the netting and made her way toward the boat below. Near the bottom, strong hands on her waist lifted her down the final two or three feet. As soon as she sat, two crewmen began rowing away from the brig. Julia would be glad to finally feel firm ground beneath her once again. When the long boat was nearly to shore, Simone left it, dropping into water nearly to her waist and with powerful steps pushed through the water. As the crewmen jumped from the boat to pull it on shore, Julia watched the captain stride to the horses and embrace each one affectionately. Laughing, she grabbed the mane of a dark chestnut and pulled herself onto its broad back. The horse reared and danced around. Julia smiled at the sheer joy on the usually taciturn woman's face. Bringing the large animal under control, she turned it toward the boats. Kicking it soundly in the side, the horse leaped forward and began to close the distance. "Joaquin!" she called out.
The boy turned and saw Simone and the horse rapidly approaching and ran farther onto the beach into their path. Julia reached out to stop him, but Esperanza grabbed her arm. "No," she said calmly. Joaquin turned his body sideways and held up his right arm. Simone guided the horse, still running, near the boy and at the last moment reached down with her left arm and easily swung him behind her on the horse. They raced down the beach through the surf. It was a spectacular sight. There was no doubt in Julia's mind the bond between the privateer and the boy was a strong one, based on unquestioning trust.
Within an hour everyone except a few crew members was ashore. Simone made relief assignments to allow everyone an equal amount of time off the ship. Members of Simone's household staff loaded horse drawn carts while everyone else followed.
Joaquin claimed a horse immediately and shared it with Esperanza while Anton rode with Kitty sitting comfortably in front of him. As Julia brushed sand from her hands, a shadow fell over her and she looked up to see Simone extending a hand down to her. With a wary glance at Esperanza, a gesture not missed by Simone, Julia hesitated to take the hand.
"You may walk if you are too stubborn to accept my offer," Simone said.
Julia climbed onto the prow of the long boat and waited for Simone to guide her horse closer
. Taking her hand, Simone scooted back slightly and pulled her onto the horse's back in front of her. As she settled herself, Julia's arm brushed lightly against Simone's breasts. She could feel the nipples react and a blush made its way up her neck. "I'm sorry," she barely managed.
"Why should you be sorry if I am not?" Simone rasped in a low voice, her mouth close to Julia's ear. The blush spread quickly to Julia's cheeks. Holding Julia securely, Simone laughed and urged her mount forward at a leisurely pace.
The island was lush and green. Colorful red and yellow birds flew through the trees and small waterfalls fell from walls of flowering vines to make their way down the hillsides toward the ocean. Julia relaxed against Simone as they climbed away from the beach. Periodically Simone shifted her weight, bringing her body into closer contact with Julia's. Simone drew her horse to a stop as they topped the hill overlooking the cove. She took in the view of the ocean while they waited for the others to catch up.
"It is magnificent," Julia breathed. At their leisurely pace she didn't realize how high they were climbing. Le Faucon de Mer looked much smaller and the changing color of the water as it extended away from shore was a panoply of blues and greens.
"This is my favorite view. It is nearly as beautiful as the water surrounding Montserrat."
"Montserrat? Joaquin told me that was your family's home."
"Oui. When my family was driven from the island by the British, I came here."
"Is that why you hate the British so?" Julia asked, turning toward Simone. Her face was much closer to Simone's than she anticipated and she swallowed hard as she watched Simone's lips quirk into a slight smile.
Simone was enjoying the feel of Julia's body close to hers and wished the trip to her home was longer. Now the woman's incessant questions brought temptation too close to resist. Light amber eyes dilated somewhat as they took in the inviting fullness of Julia's lips so close to hers. It would be so easy to lean forward only a very few inches and feel their softness once again. Quickly looking away, Simone broke the moment by turning the horse back onto its path, shifting her body farther back. She thought she heard Julia release a sigh of relief as well.
Julia joined the other members of their party for dinner that evening. She felt much more secure having dinner with Simone in a formal dining room than in the captain's cabin. Simone's cousin, Jean-Pierre, the caretaker of her property and horses, joined them. Julia enjoyed the lively talk and laughter, forgetting she and Kitty remained prisoners even though they were never treated as such.
Midway through a multiple course meal, a housekeeper escorted Henri Archambault to the door of the dining room. Simone excused herself from the table and engaged in a quiet conversation with her first mate. Returning to the table, she said, "My apologies, but I must leave. Enjoy the remainder of your meal. I shall return shortly."
Julia watched Simone drain her wine glass and stride away, accompanied by Anton and Archambault.
SIMONE LED ARCHAMBAULT and Anton across the hilly low-lying area from Le Repos toward the small village of Sainte Anne on the western shore of Martinique. Unlike the more shallow cove near her home, Sainte Anne lay on a deep water port an easy four mile ride from Le Repos. It was not uncommon for ships to seek rest in the village.
"Did DuChamp say why it is so urgent to see me?" Simone asked Archambault.
"He did nothing more than ask if you were on the island, Faucon."
Simone frowned. She had heard the name August DuChamp once or twice in her travels, but knew little about the man other than he was the son of former slaves who had found his freedom at sea.
The last remnants of the Caribbean sun were disappearing behind palm trees along the western coast when Simone brought her horse to a stop in front of the Boar's Head Tavern. She looked around the village as she stepped down from her saddle and tied the reins to a post in front of the tavern. She stepped onto the wooden decking in front of the small building and waited for her companions before entering. Lanterns hanging from overhead beams threw a golden yellow light over the tables and benches. Several men stood nonchalantly at the bar, undisturbed by the entrance of Simone's small party.
In the far corner she spotted a black man gnawing on a large hunk of meat. He grabbed a tall tankard and gulped its contents to wash his food down, wiping his mouth afterward with the back of his hand. The closer Simone drew to the man the more weathered lines she saw etching his rough face. She strode across the tavern directly to his table, followed by Archambault and Anton.
"You have a message for me, Monsieur?" she asked as she straddled the bench seat on the other side of the table.
"Your reputation for directness precedes you, Faucon. Laffite wants a parlay," DuChamp said bluntly.
"I do not take orders from Jean Laffite," Simone smirked, motioning to one of the serving women to bring drinks for her and her party.
Leaning across the table and lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, DuChamp said, "Barataria is destroyed."
"And why would this unfortunate event be of concern to me?" Simone asked, her tone nonchalant.
"The British are planning an invasion at New Orleans. Laffite believes troops will be brought to the city from Jamaica. He wants you. Or rather, he humbly requests your assistance in defending the city."
"It was the British who destroyed his headquarters at Barataria?" Simone asked as she took a tankard from a tavern worker.
"No, the Americans, due to an ill-advised suggestion."
"Then, you will have to pardon me, Monsieur, if I do not understand why Laffite would have any interest in assisting the Americans. It would seem obvious they have no wish for his assistance against the British."
"You would have to ask him concerning his motives, but I am certain it would involve some type of profit," DuChamp smiled.
"When?"
"Within a week. Laffite's ships took refuge at Bayou LaFourche. He set sail for Isla de Margarita a few days after he dispatched me to find you."
"Isla de Margarita is a very long way to travel for a meeting. He must sail past the British at Jamaica to reach his destination."
"Laffite does not confide his plans to me, Faucon. I am nothing more than a messenger. I leave here in two days time and sail to rendezvous with him at sea." DuChamp glanced around the tavern and pushed himself up from the table. "Now if you will excuse me, I believe an evening of rest and relaxation awaits me. I hope to see you again in about a week." Bowing to Simone, DuChamp rearranged his clothing in a failed attempt to make himself more presentable and ambled across the tavern toward a buxom young woman with a thick mane of black hair and a willing smile.
Archambault and Anton took seats across the table from Simone.
"What do you think?" Archambault asked.
"I think this is none of our concern," Simone answered as she took a deep drink from her tankard.
"You know Laffite would not propose a plan unless it involves a profit," the first mate said.
"We have enough, Henri. The men are tired. As am I. We have been at sea so long I have almost forgotten how to walk without listing to one side or the other from habit."
Anton chuckled and nodded his head in agreement. "We could remain on Martinique until either the Americans or the British win their little war and then ally with the winner."
Looking intently at Simone, Archambault said, "Louis Rochat would not have allowed such an opportunity to slip by."
As he lifted his tankard to take a drink, Simone sprang from her seat and slapped the drink from his hand. Silence descended over the tavern as she grabbed his shirt and pulled his face closer to hers. "You know nothing of Rochat," she hissed. "If you mention his name to me again, I will kill you myself." She shoved him back onto his seat and stalked out of the tavern.
Simone swung onto the back of her horse, turning her mount away from the tavern and back toward Le Repos du Faucon. Archambault served with Rochat, having come on board the year after she was taken and knew nothing more about her relations
hip with the drunken old man other than she shared his cabin. When she killed Rochat and took Le Faucon de Mer, no one was more surprised than Archambault when she chose him to be her first mate. A woman with her own ship was truly a rarity. She learned much from Rochat, but needed an older man as her second in command until she was certain her crew trusted her. Although she did not trust Henri completely, he served her well in the years they had been together. As long as she was successful in keeping coins in their pockets and rum in their bellies, her crew remained loyal to her. There were times she was sure they even feared her. Despite the control she exercised, she considered her time limited.
As she guided her horse along the sandy shore of the island, Simone knew she was rapidly tiring of the continual movement of her ships. Although she agreed to keep Anton aboard as a member of her crew, she knew their life was not what she wanted for her brother. He should marry and settle down and raise fat, happy children in peace. Her greatest fear was not her own capture and probable death, but that of her brother. She had already lived longer than she would have thought possible. As the waves came into shore, Simone wanted nothing more than to stay at Le Repos and do what its name suggested. Rest, raise her horses, and die in her own bed.
And what of Esperanza and Joaquin? There were times Esperanza seemed filled with loathing for her own son. Simone believed Joaquin would one day grow into a fine man, overcoming the circumstance of his birth. There were times Simone believed her lover simply came to her bed to repay a debt rather than out of any true emotion, just as there were times Simone wasn't sure she could fully trust the woman who shared her bed.
The longer Simone walked her horse along the beach, the blacker her thoughts became. Her once simple world was becoming more complex. It was no more than a three day sail to Isla de Margarita and it was a beautiful island. Perhaps she should hear what Laffite had to say. If the British were defeated they might abandon the Caribbean entirely. Almost as if it knew the way home without her guidance, the stallion turned away from the beach and began the climb toward Le Repos.
The Sea Hawk Page 8