Lady Vixen (20 page)

Left
alone, Allen's thoughts reverted irresistibly to Nicole. He was genuinely
horrified at the thought of Nicole becoming Saber's mistress. And what of his
own fate? How long would Saber hold him captive, and what did he have planned
for him? Objectively he tried to view the events that had taken place, but his
thoughts were erratic. Somehow Saber must have learned of their plan. Why else
had he set those two sailors on him? He had known from the minute they'd
entered his cabin yesterday that things had gone wrong, and like a fool he had
made a desperate attempt to escape. That action alone destroyed whatever hope
he may have had of bluffing his way clear. Damn Saber! How the hell had the man
known when to strike? Another half hour and he and Nick would have been safely
on their way. And what of Nick? Had Saber already forced himself upon her? And
most importantly—where the hell was she?

***

At
that moment Nicole was on her way back to Grand Terre. She had awakened just
about the time Saber was leaving for Grand Terre. She lay there quietly for a
few minutes, still groggy from the laudanum, gradually becoming aware of her
surroundings. The bed was soft and her first inclination was to snuggle down
deeper into its welcoming warmth. But an unwise movement of her injured wrist
jerked her painfully awake and brought the past night's disagreeable events to
mind.

Cautiously
she glanced around the room and heaved a cowardly sigh of relief when she
discovered Saber was gone and the room was empty. Clumsily, because of her
still-aching wrist, she propped herself up with two fluffy pillows and coolly
surveyed her situation.

The
worst had happened. Her masquerade had been discovered, Allen was in chains,
and she herself was Saber's prisoner. She had become a woman at Saber's
experienced hands and in the process acquired a damaged wrist. Her body felt
stiff and bruised and she was aware of a slight discomfort between her thighs.
Thank God it was over. She was alive, granted a bit torn and battered, but
nonetheless whole and alert.

The
soft sound of a door opening distracted her thoughts, and unconsciously
squaring her shoulders, she watched the door being pushed wider. At the sight
of Galena's round face she giggled with relief.

Cheerfully
Galena asked, "Would you like some coffee or perhaps some chocolate?"

Nicole
smiled at her, determined to act as natural as possible. "Some coffee
please." She hesitated, then asked carefully, "Where is Saber?"

Galena
looked slightly puzzled. "Saber? Oh, you must mean the master! He has left
on business and won't return until tomorrow or the next day. In the meantime,
he left orders to make you as comfortable as possible and to see to it that you
have whatever you wish."

Rather
thoughtfully Nicole regarded Galena. How much had Saber told his servants? Did
they know of the real situation? And how far would they go in obeying her?
Unless Saber had given orders to the contrary, there was nothing to stop her
from disappearing while he was away. Well, there was just one way to find out.
Abruptly she said, "I'd like a bath, some clothing, and something to eat.
Please see to it, will you?"

Galena
departed and returned shortly with several garments lying across her arm. A
doubtful expression on her face, she said, "The master wasn't certain if
there was anything here that would fit you. These gowns, I'm afraid, might be
too short."

Nicole
stiffened at the obvious implications and choked back the hot words on her
lips. She smiled thinly, saying, "I'd go naked before I'd clothe myself in
a gown discarded by one of his mistresses. I'll wear my own clothes."

Galena
was truly disturbed. "But you can't! Ladies don't wear breeches."

"I
doubt your master has ever had a
lady
here before!" Nicole spat.
"Get my clothes or get me something else to wear. Surely there must be a
clean shirt and pants belonging to one of the servants that I can borrow. I'm
not particularly selective at this moment."

Galena's
eyes grew wide with shock, but she backed from the room and scurried down the
hall. A lady wearing servant's clothing—and men's at that! Shaking her head at
the strange goings-on, Galena quickly acquainted Sanderson with Nicole's
request. He gave a start, but then rapidly recovering himself, provided her
with a clean white shirt and gray cotton pants.

Bathed
and wearing her boy's clothing, she explored Saber's house. Unconsciously she
was searching for certain items, and her eyes lit up with excitement when she
discovered the gun room at the rear of the house on the first floor.

It
was a very masculine room. A few stuffed animal heads—a fox, a cougar, and a
deer—were hung on one wall, and on another were some wooden-framed hunting
prints. The furniture was large, comfortable, and worn. A well-stocked liquor
cabinet was against one wall, but it was the sight of the gun racks that interested
Nicole.

Boldly
opening the oak gun case, she rummaged through the various weapons until she
found what she wanted: a razor-sharp hunting knife, a small, deadly
double-barreled pistol, and some shot and powder. After much thought she
concealed them in the drawer of a long, narrow satinwood table and left the
room.

She
ate a hearty breakfast, discovering she was, despite last night, hungry. Life
went on, she brooded, no matter what happened. But her spirits were recovering
with every moment, and after finishing her meal, she brazenly borrowed an old
hunting jacket, presumably belonging to Saber, and sauntered outside.

The
cold sun of late November offered little heat and there was a chilly wind in
the air. Glad of the warmth of Saber's jacket, she wandered down the broad
avenue of oaks that led to the river. Stopping at the edge of a long
wooden-planked pier that jutted into the mud-colored waters of the Mississippi
River, she contemplated her next move.

Saber
had obviously not apprised anyone of the true situation between them. The
servants acted as if she were a guest, a slightly mad guest, but a guest
nonetheless. But would they obey her odd requests to the point of allowing her
to demand a guide to take her to Grand Terre?

Nicole
knew she would only end up lost or wandering in circles in the swamps if she
tried to leave unaided. Absently she kicked a clod of dirt into the river, her
mind busy with the problem at hand. She would not wait meekly for Saber's
return; her escape must be immediate.

Turning
her back on the river, Nicole strode purposefully toward the house. Meeting
Sanderson in the main hall, she said carelessly, "I've decided not to wait
for your master's return. I shall leave Within the hour. Please have a basket
of food packed for a journey and find someone to escort me to Grand Terre. I'm
sorry at the abruptness, but if I am to make the island before dark, I shall
have to leave now."

Ignoring
the disapproving expression on his face, she walked to the gun room and quickly
stuffed the little horde she had collected earlier into the capacious pockets
of the jacket. She fled the room and soon found her way to the room she had
shared with Saber. She pushed open the door and entered, relieved to find it
empty. Sparing not so much as a glance at the bed where just last night Saber
had made love to her so very thoroughly, she walked over to a door that led to
an adjoining bedroom. The door was unlocked, and after checking to see that
this room, too, was deserted, she stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.

This
was obviously Saber's bedroom. The massive furniture was made of dark wood, the
huge bed was hung with burgundy velvet. But Nicole, not concerned with Saber's
taste in furnishings, crossed the room swiftly and without hesitation rooted
through his jewel box, which rested open on a large many-drawered bureau. She
removed one of Saber's linen handkerchiefs and wrapped up a diamond stickpin, a
fine emerald and pearl ring, and another stickpin—this one a ruby—as well as a
number of other valuable trinkets. A few gold coins lay near the plundered
jewel case and without scruple she scooped them up. She and Allen would need
every asset that they could lay their hands on.

Her
confidence blazing, she waited impatiently for some minutes in her own room.
When she decided enough time had elapsed, she walked negligently down the
stairs and, assuming a bored expression, she inquired of Sanderson, "Is
everything ready? I should like to leave as soon as possible."

Before
he could reply a small Negro boy, carrying a covered wicker basket nearly as
large as himself, stumbled into the hallway. Glancing down at the child,
Sanderson answered with reluctance, "I believe so. This is the food you
requested and Jonah, who will act as your guide, is waiting at the dock."
He paused, his indecision clear, but Nicole met his gaze haughtily, tilting one
of her slender eyebrows as if daring him to question her actions.

"Will
that be all, madame?" he said at last. "Samuel here will escort you
to the dock."

Nicole
inclined her head politely and followed the little figure with the large
basket. It was all she could do to not snatch the basket from the boy and run
like a wild thing to the river. Her heart was thudding in her breast, yet a
satisfied grin kept tugging at her lips. Settling herself into the pirogue and
watching the distance between herself and the dock widen, she couldn't control
the little crow of laughter that slipped out. The young Negro piloting the
craft gave her a strange look but she didn't care. She had provisions, a
pistol, money, and freedom!

Nicole
had been right in calculating that it would be nearly dark when they arrived at
the island. Consequently, she was not surprised that dusk was falling when she
reached her destination. Tossing a gold coin to her guide, she grasped the
wicker basket and strode nonchalantly up the beach. Once she was out of sight
of the pirogue, she quickly plunged into the sparse undergrowth at the edge of
the island and, hidden from view, sat down to think.

She
had escaped. She was armed and had food. The next step was to free Allen. Was
he still on the ship? She hoped not! It would be virtually impossible for her
to engineer his escape from
La Belle Garce.
By now word of her
masquerade must have spread through the entire crew, making it highly unlikely
that she could ever set foot on shipboard again.

A
deep sigh welled up within her. Damn! Surely life could not be this unfair. She
needed Allen—needed him badly!

Abstractedly
she opened the basket, and discovering a whole baked chicken, she chewed
ruminatively on a drumstick while studying her problem. Allen might not be on
the ship. He could already be on his way to New Orleans. No, perhaps not. Allen
must still be on
La Belle Garce,
unless Saber had returned to Grand
Terre. She shivered with uneasiness, hoping desperately that Saber was nowhere
within twenty miles of her. She should have questioned the servants about his
destination. He could be on his way to New Orleans or—she swallowed
nervously—he
could
be right here on the island.

Angrily
she threw down her chicken bone and stood up, wiping her hands, boylike, on the
seat of her pants. She wasn't going to let him frighten her. If he was on the
island, more than likely he would be with Lafitte, and as long as she stayed away
from the vicinity of the mansion, she should be able to avoid him. But it still
didn't solve the problem of Allen.

From
her hiding place, a little shrub-covered knoll, she had an excellent overall
view of the island and the bay. Almost accidentally her gaze fell upon the
small brick calaboose. She eyed it speculatively in the increasing darkness.
Allen could be there. It was a slim possibility, but one worth exploring. Even
if she discovered he was not there, it narrowed down the places he could be.

Hiding
the food under a shrubby bush, she left her place of concealment, cautiously
creeping across the island. She made her way from tree to bush, from house to
building, and finally to the calaboose. She was breathing fast and her legs
were shaky when she leaned against the back wall. Twice she had seen crew
members of
La Belle Garce
meandering drunkenly from one bawdy house to
the next. She had been hidden in the shadows each time, but it pointed out the
danger she ran. If she were recognized, God help her! It would be worse than
anything Saber could devise.

Recovering
her breath and some of her courage, she began trying to locate Allen, stopping
beneath each barred window to call his name. At the third window he answered.
Relief washed over her. "Are you alone?" she whispered. "Are you
safe?"

"For
God's sake, Nick, what are you doing here?" Glancing nervously at the
blackened hallway down which Saber had disappeared only an hour before, Allen
added, "Talk quickly. Saber might return. Are you all right?"

Nicole
nodded; then realizing Allen couldn't see her, she said, "Yes, but don't
let us waste time talking. I've come to free you."

In
the inkiness of his cell Allen smiled. Bless the child! How calmly she said
that—as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

"Nick,
I don't mean to discourage you, but I'm chained and the cell door has a very
stout lock on it."