Ashes in the Wind

by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

  Laughing at her own humor, Tamara left her unwilling guest and went off in the same direction that Gunn had taken, leaving Alaina greatly disturbed by the workings of the woman’s mind.

  Alaina bent her regard to her husband and could not hold back the tears which came at the thought that soon she might be holding his lifeless form in her arms. She choked back a sob and blindly caressed his lean features, forcing back that mental vision. Tenderly she placed wet compresses on his brow until eventually he stirred from his oblivion. He groaned, and his eyelids fluttered open to see her softly smiling face close above his.

  “Welcome back, my darling,” she murmured.

  “Alaina!” He tried to sit up and had to brace himself on an arm until his world stopped reeling. Gingerly he tested his jaw, then peered intently into the gloom where the stolen cargo was stacked. “It would appear we’ve been sitting on top of a thieves’ nest the whole time.”

  “I believe I came to that same conclusion not too long ago,” Alaina observed ruefully. “And there’s much more to it than what meets the eye. They’re murderers Cole, the lot of them.”

  “We’ve got to get out of here.” He staggered to his feet and tested the solid gate, then turned to her with a lopsided grin of apology. “But I can’t see quite how at the moment.”

  On the cot, Glynis began to squirm and whimper, and Alaina rose quickly and went to sit beside her, lifting the babe in her arms and cuddling her close while she could. She held out a hand in an appeal for Cole to join her and gratefully leaned into his embrace when he complied.

  “Cole, they intend to murder you!” she whispered urgently through Glynis’s mewling cry. “They plan to take over Latimer House—”

  He laid his fingers gently against her lips to shush her. “We should have some help arriving in the form of Saul and Olie,” he breathed, nuzzling his nose into her sweet smelling hair. “So don’t fret yourself, my love. We’ll come out of this alive and hearty.”

  Alaina still fretted. “But, Cole, I’m sure they sent some men up to watch the stairs.”

  “Then we’ll wait and see what happens. Saul can usually take care of himself, and with Olie to help, perhaps the thieves have a surprise coming.” He hugged her shoulders reassuringly. “I don’t plan to be dispensed with quite as easily as they would like.”

  He lifted his arm from around her and took his dissatisfied daughter on his lap, then complained, “She’s wet.”

  “Is that all you have to worry about?” Alaina laughed in tearful question. She brushed away the wetness at her eyes and swallowed, choking back any further display of her fear. Somehow Cole’s calming presence and his assurances made it all seem so less dire. She lifted her skirt and tore another square from her petticoat as she had done before and folded it upon her lap to receive her infant daughter. When the diapering service was completed, Alaina handed the babe back to her father, though Glynis was only mildly appeased and continued to fuss. As Cole tried to pacify her with a gentle jostling, Alaina rested her chin upon his shoulder and imparted another bit of information in a low tone. “I think we’re going to meet another friend before the day is out. That was Gunn who dragged you in here.”

  “Gunn!” Cole rubbed his jaw and rolled his head to ease the ache in the back of his neck. “Of course! How could I forget Jacques’s bully?”

  “I met him exactly the same way when they kidnapped me in New Orleans,” Alaina commented musingly.

  Cole tilted his head and fondly considered the delicate line of her jaw before he came to any conclusions. “Gunn must have a touch befitting a surgeon. I’ve never noticed any evidence of abuse and see none now.”

  “I think Jacques said something like that,” Alaina replied with a smile.

  “I’m sorry.” Cole touched her lips with a kiss. “I seem to be quoting everyone today.”

  “That last didn’t feel like a quote to me,” Alaina murmured softly, staring up at him with eyes brimming with love. “It felt quite like an original.”

  Glynis’s cries soon turned into a full-fledged squalling and only subsided in hopeful expectation when Alaina accepted her return. The babe eagerly rooted at her breast, then whined in disappointment until Alaina, with a timid glance about the dimly lit cavern, opened her dress. When presented, the familiar nipple was latched onto with a lusty eagerness, and Glynis immediately quieted and, in relaxing contentment, kneaded the soft, white breast.

  Cole watched with his usual fascination for bare bosoms, little daunted by their plight of the moment. He placed an arm about his wife again, cushioning the stone at her back as they leaned against it together.

  “It’s odd that I never discovered this cave was here before now,” he mused aloud. “But then, I’ve always hated the red room and only rarely entered it, even when Roberta occupied it.”

  “Cole, it was Roberta who murdered the gardener, and it was his child she carried. Mrs. Garth witnessed it all.”

  Cole accepted her statement with mild surprise. “She must have been sorely pressed indeed.”

  “He caught her with the stolen money and wanted to share it.”

  “Then I can believe the fact. She was very possessive when it came to wealth.”

  “We mustn’t tell Aunt Leala—or Uncle Angus,” Alaina pleaded softly.

  “No, I fear the shock would be too much for them.”

  “There’s something else you should know—about Mrs. Garth.”

  “A very interesting woman,” Cole observed ruefully as the one mentioned flitted quickly from one shadowed end of the cave to the other, slipping past the large wooden door after the usual clanking of chains. “And a very busy one.”

  Placing a hand on the muscular leanness of his thigh, Alaina drew his attention back to her. “It’s something that has to do with you, Cole.”

  Suddenly mocking laughter echoed from the dense gloom from which Tamara had rushed, bringing their startled attentions to the small, neatly dressed man who stood there with short legs braced wide apart. It was Jacques!

  Alaina quickly covered Glynis’s head and her bare breast with a corner of the baby’s blanket as the Frenchman strode forward to their cell. He was arrogant in his demeanor, confident with Cole behind bars. Her husband stiffened beside her, and with a glance, she saw the muscles in his cheek had tensed and now flexed with his ire.

  “And what do we have here?” Jacques jeeringly questioned, halting before the gate. “Doctor and Mrs. Latimer, is it not? How nice to have you both visiting here in my humble abode. And of course, I must not forget sweet Glynis who suckles at your breast, my lovely Alaina. Oh, to be there, ma chérie. I would enjoy that greatly.”

  Cole’s eyes were like cold, blue steel as they met the man’s amused smile. “Apparently you didn’t take my warning seriously when I gave it in the hotel.”

  “What was it you said now?” Jacques feigned a look of deep concentration. “Something about making sure that I would be judged by the highest authority?” He chuckled at Cole’s casual nod. “We shall see who judges whom, monsieur docteur.”

  He leaned a shoulder against the bars of the gate as he made a show of tugging off the glove from his right hand. He withdrew a scarred and withered extremity and held it up for their benefit.

  “A gift from your wife, monsieur. As was this.” He swept his hat off and brushed his hair aside to display the largely pierced left ear.

  “You remember the last time we met in New Orleans, don’t you, Alaina? I believe you said you would kill yourself before letting me touch you. Well, this time I have something better with which to make you mind your manners. If you choose not to behave, your husband could die a very slow and agonizing death.”

  Alaina trembled at his threat and sagged against Cole’s arm, pressing close to his side.

  “Is that the best you can do with a woman?” Cole sneered. “Frighten her into giving herself? Is that how you make all your conquests?”

  His jibe shattered Jacques’s composure for a moment, then the
man continued on as if he had not heard. “Of course, we plan to do away with the good doctor anyway. But if you cooperate, Alaina, it could go much better for him.”

  “So much for pardons,” Cole scoffed. “You’re still a bastard through and through.”

  “Would you like to see my credentials again, monsieur docteur? Here!” He pulled the packet from his jacket and tossed it through the bars. “Peruse them at your leisure. “Oh! And here’s another set.” He hauled out another packet. “Slightly different, but equally acceptable to the average lawman. And here’s a pardon from Mexico, and one from France! You see? Countries vie to give me pardons.” His laughter filled the cave, and when his humor ceased, he smirked in self-satisfaction. “Actually, I found a man who had a talent for a pen and a hatred for the world.” He shrugged carelessly. “Alas, I gave him a chance to hate the next world, too.” He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “You see how confident I am? I will build an empire here, so powerful that no one will dare touch me. All be it, on the bones of the Latimers and their fortune, but I must take into account that both of you have taken much from me. Alaina, my hand and ear. And monsieur docteur, the woman I desired for myself. For that, Monsieur Latimer, I am tempted to see you gelded.”

  As he met Cole’s tolerant stare, Jacques ceased his prattle, finding no evidence that he worried the other man. He paced to and fro for a moment, rubbing his chin in deep thought.

  “You also seem confident, Monsieur Latimer.” He considered Cole with a furrowed brow. “I wonder—could you be hoping for rescue? Could you be basing your hope on the arrival of—” he stepped back and swept his hand to one side, “this one?”

  His uproarious laughter drowned out Alaina’s dismayed gasp, trembling the air throughout the cavern, as four men carried a bound and gagged Saul to the opening of the cell where they dumped him. A full half dozen ruffians with various bruises and cuts moved to stand around him, clubs ready in their hands. Saul himself was not without damage. Blood trickled from a swollen gash on the side of his head, and an eye was nearly closed. As one man held the gate open, two others rolled the trussed man into the cell. Cole had risen and was waiting to examine the black’s injuries. When the gate clanged shut again, Jacques indolently observed the doctor’s ministerings.

  “A waste, monsieur. He will be dead in the morning. My men will see to that.”

  “You could be dead in the morning too, Monsieur DuBonné,” Cole responded, freeing Saul of his bonds. He swabbed the laceration on the black’s head as Saul tugged the gag loose.

  “Still confident, monsieur?” Jacques smirked.

  Cole stopped dabbing at the cut and braced an arm on his knee as he squatted on his haunches beside the black. He glanced up with a wry smile. “When a mere girl can set upon you and do as much damage as you have displayed, despite your army of toughs, should I fear overly much?”

  The barb struck its mark with accuracy, and the small man stiffened. Irately he gestured his men away, and as their footsteps were retreating, those of another approached. A rustle of taffeta announced Tamara’s returning presence.

  “We have them all now, eh?” Jacques boasted with a triumphant laugh as he turned to her.

  Tamara strolled past the cell. “Things have worked out for us very well indeed. I thought we had lost our chance when the good doctor found his way out of the river and came back to haunt us. But we’ve got him again, just where we want him. And this time, there’ll be no one saving him.”

  Cole rose to his feet and canted his head as he contemplated the woman carefully. “You were the ones who had me thrown into the river in New Orleans?”

  Tamara’s brows lifted briefly as she gave a tiny shrug. “Killing two birds with one stone, more or less. When it was found out that you were in New Orleans, after I received word of your father’s death, it seemed an opportunity that I could not pass up. And your uniform provided a way into the hospital so we could release the prisoners, a ploy we had used to ruin Alaina MacGaren’s name. We did so want that property of hers, and we might have had it, had the Yankees taken Shreveport when they should have.”

  Everything was going too fast for Cole to digest reasonably. He was openly confused as he asked, “You were informed of my father’s death? Why would you have been interested in him?”

  “Cole—” Alaina’s voice came from behind him, but Tamara cut her short.

  “Nevermind, Mrs. Latimer. I’ll tell him myself.”

  “Tell me what?” Cole demanded, half turning to glance inquiringly at his wife.

  “You don’t remember me, Cole.” Tamara drew his attention back with the statement. “You were so young, and that was such a long time ago, though as you can see I’ve aged very little.”

  Cole grew even more perplexed. “Should I know you?”

  “Well, as I said it’s been such a long time you may not remember your stepmother.”

  “Tamara?” He blurted the name out in surprise.

  She inclined her head slightly. “Of course.”

  “And you’re in with this pack of blackguards?” Cole asked incredulously. His hand shot out angrily toward Jacques. “With this good-for-nothing bastard?”

  Tamara raised her head aloofly. “He is my son.”

  Alaina gaped at Jacques, while Cole gave a derisive snort. “Not any kin to me, I hope.”

  “No kin at all!” Jacques answered sharply.

  “Now, Jack—” Tamara sought to soothe him for the coming revelation. “You just—”

  Jacques’s dark eyes flashed fire. “The name is Jacques, m’mère. I would be pleased if you would use it.”

  Tamara waved a hand aloft in a gesture of impatience. “Oh, Jack, you’re getting worse than Harry about that!”

  “Henré!” Jacques was even more incensed. “Henré DuBonné! Ma père! Henré DuBonné!”

  Tamara’s eyes sparked with an ire of her own. “Harry never sired a brat in his life.”

  Jacques drew himself up in outraged disbelief. “You don’t mean that I—and he—” He turned a horrified look of disgust on Cole who returned the compliment.

  “Half brothers.” Tamara cleared the matter of relationship bluntly. “Same father, different mothers.”

  “Aaaahh!” Jacques threw up his hands in roweling dissatisfaction. He glared at Tamara. “Why did you let me believe all these years that Henré was my father?”

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug, unruffled by his irritation. “There was no sense in telling you while Frederick was alive. He would never have claimed you. He wouldn’t have believed me, or you. Why, you don’t even remotely resemble Frederick. It was my side of the family you took after. So, I knew it would only lead to your frustration, having the knowledge you were his son and not being able to convince him. It was simpler this way, and you’ll have the Latimer fortune through the child.”

  Jacques mumbled, not totally appeased. “I should have suspected something was amiss when you ordered the monsieur docteur thrown into the river.”

  “It’s better this way. Believe me, Jacques,” Tamara assured him. “We’ll have the Latimer wealth and all that belongs to them through the child. And you can do as you like with her mother. She’s in your hands.”

  “Like hell she is!” Cole barked. “At least, not while I’m alive!”

  Somewhat pacified with the idea of having Alaina after all these many months of wanting her, and desiring revenge, Jacques laughed derisively. “That, monsieur docteur, will be remedied shortly. She’ll be mine, and you’ll be dead.” His dark eyes found the wide gray ones upon him, and he gave Alaina a brief nod as he promised, “I’ll have you before this day is out. Rest assured, ma chérie.”

  As Alaina fumbled with shaking fingers at her bodice, trying to close it beneath the covering of the blanket, Jacques turned to Tamara with another matter. “You’d better get the men started if they’re to catch the riverboat downstream at the bend. It’s carrying some valuable cargo that I would hate to lose, and we’re getting
more orders now than we can fill. The more we seize and the more we sell, the richer we’ll be, m’mère.”

  “We’d better keep a couple of men around just to insure that big fellow doesn’t do anything foolish?” Tamara suggested, inclining her head toward Saul.”

  “Do so,” Jacques stated shortly. “Gunn can stay too, but get the rest started. They’ll have a ways to go before they reach the bend, and they’ll have to get into position before the riverboat comes around it. Our men on board will be expecting their attack.”

  The woman left to see to his bidding, and Jacques turned upon the occupants of the cell with a look of amused condescension. But his smile faded somewhat when Cole again took a place beside Alaina and pulled her close against his side. It seemed a direct challenge.

  Jacques jerked on his glove with a sneer. “You’ll have a little time together before I return for her. Duties have a way of pressing in on a man at inopportune times. But rest assured, before I return, I’ll have found a place where she and I can have a bit of privacy.”

  As the man passed from sight, his laughter floated back to them, and Alaina clung desperately to her husband while Cole whispered soft words of comfort in an effort to calm her trembling.

  Saul shook his head in worried apology. “Mistah Cole, I sho’ is sorry ’bout being taken. Dey was waitin’ for me.”

  “Where’s Olie?” Cole whispered.

  “He was right behind me, but ah guess he musta heard de commotion when dey took me, and decided not to come through de do’. Or maybe he’s gone back fo’ more help.”