Face to Face (The Deverell Series Book 2) (24 page)

Giselle looked up from a table, took note of Merry’s interest in the women, then picked up a bag and handed it to Merry. “Here, a present from me to you. It is willow tea and women of our circumstance can never be too careful. Drink it every day, ma chère. French women believe it helps.”

Merry stared down at the bag. “Thank you for the gift, but what does it help with?”

Merry’s frown of confusion made Giselle laugh. “It is a contraception, ma chère.”

It was clear the little flower didn’t know that word, and it was a thing of wonder for Giselle that Merry was as innocent as she looked. Giselle laughed harder. “Mon Dieu, you know too little to be a mistress, ma petite. English women do not teach their daughters anything useful. You are a novice at the art of love. I would not have taken Morgan for a man to be enamored by innocence.”

Giselle looked up at the sun and then waved her fingers as though to fan her face. “We should go back to the fortress. Another hour and I will be brown as a savage. The Captains should be done with their meeting and ready to amuse us.”

Merry tucked the tea into the basket she carried. “Go without me. I would like to continue looking here.”

Giselle smiled. “Do not dally too late, ma fleur. Even with Pitt it would not be safe for you on the docks after nightfall.”

Merry lingered at the waterfront all afternoon. The last thing she wanted was to return to the fortress, find Varian occupied, and be trapped indoors with the women the remainder of the day. And there was much to the merchant tables here to amuse her.

An elderly black woman read her tarot cards and gave her a blessing in a language she did not understand. She concluded her favor, by gifting Merry a charming doll that resembled a broom.

Continuing on her way, Merry looked at many things and bought nothing, though she knew Pitt followed close behind and Varian had made sure he had coin to pay for whatever she desired.

At a stand where she examined wind chimes made of seashells, she felt the heavy presence of eyes upon her. She paused to pet a dog. She turned to stare out at the ships. She walked a few paces and looked over her shoulder. The stare moved with her and she felt it, in a way she only felt Varian’s eyes.

She was studying the doll, smiling absently to herself, walking down the lush green path to the beach she had gone to earlier with Varian, when out of nowhere she was startled to find Indy walking beside her.

Astonished, she stared at him for a moment. Then, annoyed she said, “How did you find me and why did spy upon me? I could feel you watching.”

A distinct rustle came from the grass. Merry looked over her shoulder. Pitt was somewhere, but she couldn’t see him.

Indy said, “Morgan told me where to find you, but ordered me to try not to let anyone see me. Concern over you, I imagine.”

Merry made a face. “Concern about what? My reputation? I think that is hardly a worry here.” Merry slipped her arm around his, holding him affectionately close to her. She’d missed the boy. “Well, I’m glad to see you, worry or not. It is nice to have a friend here.”

“So, it’s been rough on you? Morgan should be garroted for forcing you to cavort with the whores of Barataria.”

She felt the boy’s fast rising temper and quickly assured, “He didn’t force me. It was my choice to join him here. And it has not been completely unpleasant, so don’t be angry. I have enjoyed my stay ashore.”

Indy arched a brow. She looked away, knowing the look in her eyes and the blush on her cheeks betrayed to him her battle with Varian had ended some days passed.

His opiate eyes bore into her. Merry noted the strange glitter in their dark depths, misunderstood and quickly added, “I am well, Indy. There is no cause for your worry. I don’t need your protection. Not from Varian.”

She felt Indy receive her gentle rebuff. She wanted out of the tug of war between Indy and the Captain. She wasn’t at all sure what part she played in their never waning conflict.

They walked in silence. Finally, she felt his lean muscles slowly relax. Several minutes later, she noted his eyes were fixed on the doll she carried and began to laugh.

Holding the doll beneath his stare, she teased, “Isn’t it charming. Some woman gave it to me back there. Such an interesting thing. What do you imagine it’s supposed to be?”

Indy shook his head. “I know too well what that is. Toss it into the sea, Merry. Toss it quickly.”

Laughing at the note of repugnance in his voice, she exclaimed, “Whatever for?”

“Who did you get that from?”

“Giselle called her Flava and warned me to stay away. But Flava called me to her table. She read my cards and said something that sounded like a blessing. Then she pushed the doll on me. Wouldn’t even permit Mr. Pitt to pay.”

Indy slapped his forehead into the palm of his hand. “That doll is black magic. The old woman is a Voodoo priestess. Don’t you understand? The woman put a curse on you. That doll is a Voodoo charm.”

That only heightened Merry’s interest in the doll. She was staring at it now with greater fascination. “Really? What kind of curse did she put on me?” Indy’s answering expression made her giggle. “I don’t believe in black magic. But it will make a good story someday.”

Aggravated with her now, Indy growled, “That is a Voodoo broom doll, for Christ’s sake. For once, don’t argue with me. Just toss it away. Maybe we should burn the bloody thing. It’s a fer—” He clamped his mouth shut. Her sparkling blue eyes caused him to break off. “Do as you will. Keep the doll if it pleases you.”

Merry laughed uproariously. He sounded so like Varian, just then. Indy stared at her, shook his head, and continued to walk. It was not his problem, not his mess, and it was time he stepped out of it. The girl wanted a Voodoo fertility doll to keep as a souvenir. Tom was right. The best he could do was hold his tongue and walk away from the damn thing.

~~~

Shortly before dawn, Varian woke Merry to make love to her drowsy body. Then he left her after an affectionate chide to behave herself. They were leaving Barataria today and there was much to claim his attention in making the
Corinthian
ready.

Leaving Barataria was both a blessing and curse. The society she would miss not at all, not even the companionship of the women. Merry could not say she had ever been enamored of the company of women, except for her cousin Kate, and she was far from enamored of these women. But she would miss the freedom with Varian, how he belonged exclusively to her the majority of hours ashore, how he was more often himself, less Morgan, in the quiet moments belonging only to them, where they could love.

But she did not want to stay on the island a moment longer than necessary, since even after five days here, she didn’t fully trust Jean Lafitte or know what to make of him. Yet, she also did not want to return to ship and all that awaited her there. Hours alone in the cabin. Morgan. Brief flashes, loving Varian. Uncertainty. She was in no hurry to feel again the full brunt of what awaited her aboard ship.

In the faint blue-white wash of morning, she lost a measure of her contentment. A quarter turn of the clock passed as she dressed and then there was soon a knock on her door. Giselle entered, plopped herself in a chair beside Merry, and insisted they play cards.

The two women were quietly playing cards when there came a loud rap on Merry’s door. Giselle looked up and said, “Entrez-vous.”

It was Jean’s man. “The Captain wishes to speak with you, mademoiselle.” Giselle made to rise. The man stopped her. “Not you. The British girl.”

Merry’s eyes rounded in surprise. She had not passed a moment alone with Laffite and it was indeed worrisome he sought her out when Varian was away from the villa. Her anxious gaze shifted to Giselle, to find the girl fretfully gnawing her lower lip.

The man ordered, “Come.” It was then Giselle made a nervous gesture of the arm for Merry to follow Jean’s servant. She warned, “Hurry, ma petite fleur. Jean has a temper. You do not want to make him wait.”

That was hardly a comforting disclosure. Merry followed silently down the hall to the door of Jean’s study. The man knocked once, opened the door, and then pushed Merry in.

The study was filled with midmorning light and Jean Lafitte sat before a massive mahogany desk, legs propped upon it, his green eyes intently fixed on the view beyond the window.

His face shifted to look at her and she was held in his magnetic stare. With the graceful flourish of his arm, he motioned her to a chair. Something on her face made him laugh, and then both his expression and his eyes softened.

“Have no fear, ma petite. If I desired something more than a chat with you, I would have brought you to my bedchamber. Morgan or not.”

Sinking on the edge of a chair, in a posture that would lend to fast fleeing, Merry fixed him in a stare. She was grateful for the desk between them.

Jean sighed as though displeased with her. “Giselle has taught you well. You are less free with your words than when you first arrived here. Bien. It will serve you better than your quick wit.”

Having no reasonable thought what to make of that, Merry only widened her stare. Jean turned back to look out the window. He said, “The British paid me a visit not long ago. Barataria is a useful island in their war with America. They want me to act the traitor to my adopted country and allow their ships access here. The Americans have pled their case as well. Tell me, ma petite, which country should I trust?”

Merry tensed. He was toying with her. This had nothing to do with why he called her in here. Deciding to toy back, calmly she lifted a brow and said, “I would think countries are much like women. What is it the French say? A wise man can love a woman, but he should never trust her. I would place my faith in no country.”

Lafitte threw back his head and laughed. “Bien. Bien. Giselle has taught you well.” He seemed to study her for a moment. Then, “The British wanted my assistance with a bothersome matter. There is much talk among the ships at sea. A bounty has been placed on a girl who went missing in Cornwall. They believe she has been kidnapped and is being held aboard a ship. The British Captain brought ashore another gentleman. An important man in the government. The Foreign Office, I think he said. He was most determined to learn of this girl and if my Captains knew of her fate.” The hazel eyes sharpened. “The offer for the girl is most tempting.”

Icy cold bands tightened around Merry’s stomach. She shrugged and hoped she managed an expression of indifference. “And what is the girl’s return worth to this man from the Foreign Office?”

“Ah, the British offered fifty-thousand pounds for her. But that is not the most amusing part of the tale.”

Merry thought she was going to be sick. Fifty thousand pounds. The amount alone was a dangerous thing. It was nearly impossible to get the word out. “No?”

Jean shook his head. “Non. The family is a powerful family and her taking an enormous insult to them. They will double it. One-hundred thousand pounds for both the girl and the man who took her from them. A fortune. It will tempt many. The man who has taken her does not have long to live, since they will pay for him even dead.”

The man? What did her family know? Trembling, Merry wanted to rise from the chair and found that she couldn’t. Her thoughts were snapping.
Think, Merry, think. Jean told you this for a reason. What do you need to know and why did he tell you?

A moment of indecision, then she asked, “And did you share this information with Dominique? The other Captains? Anyone?”

Jean’s answering expression was of mock insult. “Non. I am French. I am a lover of love. And a girl from such a family would only run because of love. I told no one. Will tell no one. I am a lover of love and I am loyal to my friends.”

Merry digested that in silence. She didn’t know whether to believe him or to run from the room back to the ship. Staring at her curled fingers that had formed tight fists in her lap, she tried to decide what to do with this information. Certainly, she had to tell Varian, but what would happen if she told him the truth? She was a danger to him. He did not even know it, and she wasn’t sure what the truth of her identity would mean to him.

Jean’s clever eyes roamed the room and then settled on her intently. “It is most interesting, is it not? For a silly girl who ran off for love, an insult, and injured pride the British would offer a fortune. Absurd, non?”

Quietly, Merry whispered, “Yes, indeed, Captain. Quite absurd.”

They were sitting there quietly in the room sometime later, when Varian appeared in the doorway. Merry could feel his internally contained alarm at finding her here, though his eyes were emotionless and somehow menacing. “I trust all is well here, Merry?”

She gave Varian a cautious smile, because she could not find her voice and the tension between the men filled the room. Jean’s clever gaze moved between them, and then back to settle on a vacant spot in the room.

Into the silence, Jean laughed. “Ah, Morgan. You are back and you have come to steal la petite away from me. And we were having such pleasant conversation.” His smile was artfully charming. He rose from the desk in a graceful flourish. “Mon Dieu. I almost forgot why I invited you in here, ma petite. I have a present for you. A gift to wish you well on your journey.”

He went to the handsome Louis XIV chest and pulled out an elaborate gold and jewel brush set. Smiling he said, “I could not think of a more perfect woman to give this to. It was a gift from the Emperor to Joséphine. I do not recall how it came to be in my hands, but now I put it in your hands for safety.” He set the heavy set into Merry’s palms. “It is very valuable, ma petite. It is solid gold, diamonds and emeralds, should you ever have need of such an extravagant gift.”

Merry understood exactly the purpose of the unexpected gift. Tears filled her eyes. Jean leaned forward to kiss her on each cheek.

He paused before pulling back, to whisper, “All men are not good like the Captain and I. Be careful who you trust. Time will make more dangerous your circumstance. I hope my little present helps you, should you ever have a need.”