Destiny's Daughter (25 page)

"Such naughty language, Miss Montgomery, from a proper, convent-bred lady. You told me to let you go."

"You knew what I meant. You didn’t have to drown me."

Whatever had passed between them just moments ago was now forgotten. Pushing herself away from him, Annalisa walked through the water, feeling it tug on her sodden clothes. Striving for dignity, she climbed up the banks of the river. Behind her, Chase watched as the soggy pantalettes clung to her bottom. As she bent to scoop up her clothes, he felt a sudden rush of heat and quickly dismissed it. Was she a tease, playing with his emotions? If so, one of these times she would push him too far.

Without waiting for her to dress, Chase strode from the water and picked up his clothes. In silence, they dressed.

When they were finished, Chase said, "All right. Down to business. You sent for me. I presume there’s some information."

She managed to keep her tone as impersonal as his. "Gabrielle told me that Price House is going to be sold secretly tomorrow morning. Willis bragged about finding a buyer who was offering almost half the market value. He seemed to think it was a windfall for the bank."

She studied Chase, who stood frowning. "I didn’t think the Price family was in debt. James Price has sat in on dozens of poker games."

"Maybe he was hoping to win back enough money to clear his debts."

Chase thought about it in silence. Then he shrugged. "You may be right."

"You’ll see that this information gets to—the right party?" She knew instinctively that in Chase’s present state of mind, the very mention of Nate Blackwell’s name would cause an explosion.

He nodded. "Of course."

Annalisa held her bundle of wet underthings tightly against her chest, wishing they hadn’t ended the day on such an uncomfortable note. There was a heaviness in her limbs, a tightness in her throat. "Good-bye, then."

Without a word, he watched her walk away.

As Annalisa descended the stairs, she saw several heads turn in her direction. Her gown, of emerald green
mousseline de soie
was worn off the shoulders to show off her sun-kissed skin. At her throat was a fashionable dog collar of wide green velvet decorated with a jewel-encrusted pin. Her long hair had been coiled into fat sausage curls that fell over one bare shoulder, adding to her cool, elegant look.

As her gaze swept the room, she saw Chase studying her. How was it that he could touch her with a single look? Her heart tumbled and she forced herself to look away.

Earlier today she had driven the carriage into town to do the banking. Jasper Willis had been absent, but the other employees were only too willing to talk about the latest incident involving the Archangel. The Price family had awakened to find a package of money in the door, and instructions how to use it. Young Frank Toomy, who clerked at the bank, said that the Price family had been given the exact amount they owed. Mr. Willis, he whispered behind his hand, was in big trouble with the bank president. A lot of eastern money people were unwilling to get involved with Willis after so many deals had fallen through. When Willis had heard about this latest intervention by l’Archange de Miséricorde, he’d flown into a rage.

Annalisa chanced another look at Chase, who was deep in conversation with Boulanger, the chief of police. He’d been as good as his word. Despite his anger with her over that scene in the river, he had gotten the message to the Archangel of Mercy in time. Maybe there were some redeeming qualities in him after all, she thought with a little smile. Just then Chase glanced up, as if he could sense that she was watching him. Embarrassed, she turned away and began mingling with her guests.

As Annalisa walked away, Chase watched her through narrowed eyes. Despite his misgivings, she was proving to be a valuable ally. The secrets her women heard in the privacy of their bedrooms were crucial to the work being done. But these were perilous times. The men who schemed and cheated the landowners were not above murder as well. The more she involved herself, the more dangerous her situation became. If anyone found out what she was doing, her life could be threatened. Montagnet’s anger would be nothing compared to their revenge. And yet, Chase was powerless to stop her, even if he wanted to. No matter how much he worked to protect her, she was so damned filled with the idea of doing good work she’d probably just keep putting herself in the line of fire. Like a little missionary. Probably the result of being raised by nuns. He found himself frowning.

"Ah. Miss Montgomery."

Annalisa stopped in her tracks at the sound of Chades Montagnet’s smooth voice. Turning, she watched as he handed his hat to a maid, then bowed over Annalisa’s hand. With revulsion she felt his lips brush the backs of her fingers.

"You look especially lovely tonight."

She stiffened her spine and kept her cool smile intact. "Thank you."

As he leaned closer, he murmured, "I do hope you’ve given my offer more thought."

She stared at him as if she couldn’t believe her ears. "You can’t be serious."

Leaning close to her ear he whispered, "I do not jest, my dear. My offer was made in all seriousness."

"And my reply is the same now as it was when you first made your offer."

His lips curled in a thin smile. "Did you know that your supplies lie rotting on the docks of New Orleans? Without my approval, nothing will be delivered to you."

"Then I shall have to operate with what few supplies I still have on hand." In sugary tones, she added, "Would you care for a fine Havana cigar, Charles? Or perhaps some excellent brandy?"

"You won’t gloat much longer," he said, nodding and smiling to an acquaintance who passed. His tone lowered. "I am not an ugly man. And, I am told, I am quite skilled in a lady’s bed. You would not be unhappy with my part of the bargain."

"We have no bargain," she said sharply. "And I will not be frightened by your threats."

"We’ll see." She saw the cruelty in his eyes as their glances met and held. "There are many—unpleasant things that can happen to a houseful of women." Turning away, he melted into the crowd.

Annalisa felt a shiver of apprehension at his words, then forced herself to smile as a cluster of gentlemen approached her.

Across the room, Chase watched the encounter while the conversation drifted around him. No one watching Annalisa would guess that she had been attacked and threatened by the same man who was now hovering over her. If she was afraid, she hid it well. Her spine stiff, her head held high, she met Montagnet’s looks and words without flinching. God, she had spirit.

While he continued to watch her, the sound of her laughter, low and husky, was carried to him, and he thought again about all the ways she aroused him.

*  *  *

Annalisa lay between the cool satin sheets and felt herself floating. Her lover held her in the gentle waves of the river, his hands strong and firm, his lips hovering just above hers. He was a magnificent, sun-bronzed creature, with muscled arms, and shoulders wide enough to lean on. His eyes were silver in the bright sunlight, and laughter lurked there just below the surface. Her dream lover was so noble, he spent all his time going about changing the world’s sorrow to joy. He gave away his fortune and played poker only to give away his winnings as well. In her dreams, he drank only an occasional glass of sherry, and he was the finest gentleman she’d ever known. They talked of only important things like the effects of the war on the South, and he never lost his temper or swore. When he kissed her it was pure and chaste, and at the very touch of his lips she threw herself into his arms and nearly fainted from the passionate feelings he aroused in her.

She awoke trembling. Had she been dreaming of Chase or Nate? Neither, she thought. Both. Why couldn’t they be one man? Why couldn’t Chase absorb Nate’s gentle manners? Why couldn’t Nate absorb some of Chase’s strength? Sitting up, she locked her arms around her drawn-up knees and stared at the darkened window. At the convent, whenever she’d been unable to sleep, she had thought about her mother, and imagined what her life would be like when she was finally allowed to return to her home. Home. Annalisa’s lips curved into a rueful smile. She had never, in her wildest dreams, imagined it would be like this. Despite her shock at learning about the occupation of the women of this house, she’d learned to admire them. They were frightened, brave, fragile, tough. They were survivors. And she loved them.

From far away she heard the tinkle of breaking glass. It was too faint to have been in the house. She strained to hear anything more, but heard only silence. And suddenly she realized that none of the usual soothing night sounds were present. The owl who perched over the barn door wasn’t hooting. There were no insects chirping, no night birds crying. Scurrying across the room, she peered through her window. From the direction of the barn, she saw an orange glow. Fire.

"Fire! Everybody, fire in the barn!" As she ran down the stairs, Annalisa shouted and paused only to knock on doors. From within the rooms she could hear the muffled protests as the women forced themselves awake.

"Fire! Hurry! Fire in the barn!"

"Luther. Oh sweet Jesus!" Eulalie shrieked. "Luther’s in the barn."

Wearing only a thin night dress, Annalisa tore out the back door and across the wide expanse of yard. Behind her, Eulalie followed at breakneck speed. A thin sliver of moon hung in a darkened sky. On a sudden breeze the acrid odor of wood-smoke stung her eyes. Nearing the barn she could see the flames racing across the loft spread with straw.

"Luther. Oh God, Luther," Annalisa cried, forcing open the door. As soon as the door was opened, the fire became an inferno.

Through the thick smoke, Annalisa could make out a figure struggling with the stable doors. Running to his side, Annalisa found Luther gamely forcing each door open with his left arm while his right streamed blood. One side of his face was so bloody he could barely see.

"You go with Eulalie. I’ll see to the horses," Annalisa shouted over the roar of the fire.

As the terrified horses thundered past them, he turned toward the carriage.

"I have to pull the carriage out of here, Miss Montgomery."

"No. It isn’t important, Luther. Come on, before the roof collapses."

With Annalisa on one side of him and Eulalie on the other, they led him through the smoke toward the open door. When they reached it, he staggered and would have fallen if the two women hadn’t supported his weight. "Hold on, Luther. We have to make it to the house."

Gamely, he struggled to remain on his feet. Dazed, he leaned his weight on their slender shoulders and took several more steps.

"Well, look what we have here. Two pretty little whores and their nigger."

Annalisa whirled at the sound of the coarse voice. A man, his face concealed beneath a hooded robe, sat astride his horse. Beside him was a similarly hooded horseman.

"All right, you two," another voice called from the darkness. "Stand away from the nigger."

Annalisa turned. Inching out of the shadows were three more hooded figures. The whinny of horses nearby caused Annalisa to wonder how many other men were hidden in the darkness.

One of the men brandished a rifle. "You heard him. Step away."

Annalisa tightened her grip on Luther. She could feel him swaying and knew that it was taking all of his willpower to continue standing.

"This man is hurt. We’re taking him to the house."

As she turned, the hooded man thrust his rifle into her back. "Unless you step away from this nigger, you’re going to get the same thing he gets. Understand?"

Annalisa glanced at the tight set of Luther’s mouth. "Let me go, Miss Montgomery. You too, Eulalie. Get out of here now."

"No." Defiantly, Annalisa took a step toward the house, still clutching Luther’s arm. He and Eulalie clasped hands and he nearly staggered. "Don’t fall now, Luther," Annalisa murmured. "Just stay on your feet a little while longer."

"I’m trying." Sweat beaded his upper lip as he took another step, then another. "But I want you two safe. Run now. Leave me."

"No." It was Eulalie’s voice. "We go together."

"You leave us no choice," called a voice from behind them. "We don’t hold with shooting white women. But if you won’t step away from that nigger, we’ll have to shoot all three of you."

Annalisa closed her eyes for a moment, waiting for the blast that would end her life. When the bullet sounded, she winced, then opened her eyes, realizing that she was still alive. Glancing at Luther and Eulalie, she saw that they were both unhurt as well.

"That’s just a warning shot," Hattie Lee’s voice called from the darkness. "The next one won’t miss. We have you surrounded. You men either leave immediately, or you’ll all be dead."

"She’s bluffing," one of the men shouted. "These women couldn’t have that many guns."

As soon as the words were spoken, the women began moving into the circle of light. Each one of them was pointing her rifle at one of the hooded figures.

Gabrielle, in elegant, high-heeled slippers, wore a gown of shimmering ruby. Her lush black hair was swept up and held with jeweled combs. The rifle at her shoulder was an incongruous sight. The man at whom it was pointed couldn’t see that her hands were trembling.

Francine, taller than the man she faced, stood barefoot, clad in a nightgown of translucent ivory gauze. Long blond hair streamed down her back to her waist. With the rifle at her shoulder, she looked like an Amazon.

Delia, tiny and fragile, was also barefoot. Wearing only a lacy chemise and bloomers, she looked like a child brandishing the rifle. But her eyes were dark with anger, and the hands on the weapon were steady.

Even Corinna stepped forward cradling a carbine. Despite the wild orange hair and sleep-crusted eyes, there was a look of fierce determination about her.

Hattie Lee brought up the rear, pointing her rifle at the mounted men. A silk gown of brilliant sapphire glittered in the reflected firelight. Her eyes were clear. Her voice rang out sharply. "Your time’s running out. Now you mount up and get out of here or we’ll blow your cowardly heads off."

The men who were already astride their horses turned and headed for the road to town. The others scurried toward their tethered mounts and left without a backward glance.

When they were gone, Luther slipped silently to the ground. It took six of the women to carry their heavy burden to the house. While Eulalie insisted on sponging his wounds, a maid was dispatched to find Dr. Lynch.

The others made their way wearily to the barn to form a water brigade and tend to the horses.

Annalisa tossed buckets of water until her arms were too numb to feel anything. Then she continued tossing water, until the roof caved in. The rest of the barn slowly caved in upon itself, sending flames shooting a hundred feet in the air.

With tears streaming down their blackened faces, the women watched their fine carriage dissolve under charred boards. Cases of choice whiskey and bolts of silk and satin and linen were incinerated.

"Come on, child," Hattie Lee said softly. Placing her arm around Annalisa’s shoulders, she led the way to the kitchen. A maid handed them cool glasses of lemonade, and no one seemed to notice that their hands were blistered, and their faces smudged. All of them were barefoot, and still dressed in night clothes.

In the parlor, Dr. Lynch dressed Luther’s wounds, while Eulalie clung to his hand, refusing to leave his side even during the examination.

The doctor glanced up as Annalisa and Hattie Lee entered. "Broken arm," he said, nodding toward the clean white sling. "Jumped from the loft when the fire broke out. The cut on his forehead is deep. He doesn’t know how he got it. Thinks that’s what woke him up. I’m guessing those men threw something through the loft window that caught him on the side of the head. Then they tossed a fiery torch through the broken window. That’s when Luther jumped up. He was shot in the side. If he hadn’t twisted, it would have caught him in the chest. He must have landed on the prongs of a rake. Deep, almost to the bone," Dr. Lynch said softly, pointing to the dressings on Luther’s side. "These are what nearly did him in. Would have killed a lesser man." The doctor shook his head. "He’s tough." Glancing at the smoke-charred faces of the women, he added, "Nearly as tough as all of you. Are any of the women hurt?"

Though he asked it casually enough, both Annalisa and Hattie Lee knew he was concerned about Gabrielle.

"No one except Luther," Annalisa said gently. She saw the look of relief on the doctor’s face. "The others are in the kitchen, Doctor. Why don’t you go in there and have a cup of coffee before going home?"

He nodded. Turning to Eulalie, he said firmly, "Change those dressings at least twice a day. Get him to drink fluids. Plenty of water, lemonade, tea. Anything you can get in him. I’ll be back as often as I can."

The young girl nodded, tears filling her eyes. "Thank you, Dr. Lynch."

"Don’t thank me. Thank God he’s as strong as he is." Touching her hand, he added, "I know you’ll take good care of him, Eulalie."

"I will, Doctor. I promise."

Wearily the doctor made his way to the kitchen, where the others were trying to sort out the shocking events of the night.

Hearing a pounding on the front door, Annalisa hurried to open it. Chase stood staring at her, his features dark with rage.

"My God. What happened?"

"We had a fire in the barn."

"I know that much. How did it start?"

"Some men. Hooded. They threw a torch through the loft window." Her voice trembled and he clenched his fists to keep from slamming them into a wall.

"Luther?"

"He’s been badly hurt. But Dr. Lynch says he’ll be all right."

"I want to see him."

Annalisa turned and led him down the dim hallway toward the parlor. Inside, Eulalie lay on the sofa beside the sleeping figure, her arms clasping him tightly. Seeing Chase and Annalisa, she sat up quickly.

"Stay here, Eulalie," Chase said gently. "I just wanted to see for myself that Luther was all right."

"He’s hurting bad," the girl said. "But Dr. Lynch says he’s strong."

Chase nodded, then touched the man’s shoulder, feeling a wave of guilt. He had been the one who had sent Luther here on the pretext of needing a job. Looking down at the worried girl, he said, "I know you’ll stay with him, Eulalie. If you need anything, anything at all, let me know."

"I will. Thank you."

Turning to Annalisa, he said, "Where can we talk?"

Wearily, she turned and led him to her office.

As she slumped into her chair, he realized how exhausted she was. The first streaks of dawn were already coloring the sky. This must all seem like a nightmare.

"How many men were there?"

She thought a minute. "I saw five. There may have been more with the horses. I’m not certain."

"Did you recognize any of the voices?"

She shook her head. "It all happened so quickly. There wasn’t time to think about anything except that we were going to die."

His voice lowered. "Could this be the work of Montagnet?"

Annalisa shrugged. "He made another threat tonight. About what might happen to a houseful of women. But why would he single out Luther? Why not just threaten me?"

"Because that would be too obvious. This way, with the use of hooded men, it could look like some disgruntled citizens angry at the loss of their slaves."

"Oh, Chase." Annalisa buried her face in her hands and felt the threat of tears clog her throat. "I can’t have these others hurt because of me."

Coming around the desk, Chase knelt before her and turned her into his arms. "There’s no stopping it, Annalisa. If Montagnet has set the wheels in motion, he won’t be satisfied until he exacts his revenge."

"If I were the only one involved, I’d be able to fight him. But I can’t stand by and see my friends hurt because of me."