My Lady Vixen (34 page)

Finally the tension became too great to bear and Alexa screamed as she broke apart into a million blazing pieces, scattering and falling to earth, only to revive again when Adam thrust deep inside her. Alexa felt herself responding to Adam’s drugging kisses and words of love as his forceful movements goaded her still higher. Their simultaneous climax eclipsed anything she
had ever felt before.

After a short respite Adam took her again, and yet again. All through the day and night, until Alexa begged him to stop. In the morning he was gone.

Savannah
1781

Adam returned from Savannah three days later, and Alexa welcomed him joyously until he presented her with several gifts. The moment he handed her a large box containing a beautiful yellow dress fashioned of the finest linen she had ever seen, and a smaller box which revealed a string of matchless pearls nestled in a bed of velvet, a coldness pervaded her body and refused to be dislodged. Her first thought was that Adam was pandering to her for his indiscretions with Gwen. It was all too obvious that his guilt drove him to extravagance on her behalf. She made her feelings quite clear when she contemptuously tossed his gifts aside.

“Don’t you like your dress. Alexa?” Adam asked, puzzled. “Or the pearls? I had hoped to please you.”

“They would have pleased me, Adam, were I not aware of what they represent.”

“What do they represent?”

“They were meant to assuage your guilt over Gwen,”
Alexa accused sulkily. “I need no such presents, Adam, to remind me that I share my husband with another woman.”

“You share me with no one, my love,” Adam revealed. “I couldn’t make love to Gwen. Not after what we shared before I left.”

Alexa stared at Adam incredulously, happiness lighting her flawless features. “Do you mean it, Adam? What … what happened?”

“I was careful to avoid Gwen the whole three days.” He grinned deviously. “I made a concentrated effort to remain close to General Prevost the entire time I remained in the city.”

“Oh, Adam,” Alexa cried, throwing herself into his arms. “I do love you!”

“Should I tell you what else I learned or shall I take you to bed immediately?” Adam laughed.

Alexa flushed prettily. Was she so transparent? “Tell me, Adam, please.”

“Drake caught up with the British frigate and Captain Barrington. There was a fierce fight and Drake killed Barrington. The surviving crew were set adrift and the ship scuttled. They were picked up by another British ship.”

“Good for Drake!” Alexa declared, her eyes gleaming with pride. “What else did you learn?”

“All of Savannah is agog with the news that the Vixen is dead. The survivors of the frigate reported she was mortally wounded by Barrington and subsequently drowned when he threw her overboard. Their belief was reinforced when their frigate was overtaken by
My Lady Vixen
and the lady herself failed to materialize during the fighting. So, my darling, the Vixen is well and truly laid to rest.”

Alexa looked so sad that Adam was prompted to ask, “Why so pensive? It’s what we’ve hoped for.”

“I feel as if a part of me has been torn out,” Alexa ventured. “I liked the Vixen. I liked her independence, her courage, her ability to operate on her own. She was beholden to no man, victim to none. I’ll miss her.”

“You’re wrong, Alexa. The Vixen is dead in name only but she lives on in the heart and soul of Alexa. Nothing or no one can take that from you, nor will defeat claim you. I should know, for once I set out to destroy you only to be conquered in the end by a violet-eyed vixen.”

Then Adam carried her upstairs to show by his actions what his words attempted to convey.

Once their passion was temporarily sated, Adam told Alexa that Cornwallis had retired to Yorktown to rest and await developments. Alexa was happy to learn that Adam would remain at Foxworth plantation until the
Ghost’s
arrival in about four weeks. It was a time of renewal for them—a month in which Adam rarely ventured to Savannah, devoting his days and nights to his wife. Until one day their bubble unexpectedly burst with disastrous results.

That day in August of 1781 dawned clear and hot like so many other summer days in Georgia. Adam had arisen early as was his custom and, taking advantage of his time on the plantation, was in the fields with Forbes, catching up on the workings of his large holdings. Alexa, finding time heavy on her hands that particular morning, wandered into the study, one of her favorite places because it was quietly located in the rear of the house and accessible not only through the door off the hallway but by French doors opening into the garden. When Adam was in the fields he often came into the house through the garden entrance, since it was closer than going around to the front or entering through the kitchen and disrupting the servants.

Overcome by a strange restlessness Alexa wandered about the familiar room, touching objects Adam had
touched, sniffing the pleasant odors of leather and tobacco, wishing he were with her to still the unexplained tension that had gripped her from the moment she lifted her head from the pillow this morning.

Alexa smiled a secret smile, her hand splayed across her flat stomach. She couldn’t wait to see Adam’s face when she told him of her suspicions. She hoped he would be as pleased as she to learn she was expecting a child. According to her calculations it had happened on the island. She had deliberately waited to tell him until she was certain. There was no longer any need to wait. In seven months she would bear Adam’s child.

So engrossed was she in her thoughts of bearing Adam a healthy baby that she failed to hear the altercation taking place at the front of the house. She had no notion of what was transpiring until the door to the study flung wide to admit a fuming Gwen. Jem followed helplessly in her wake, sputtering. “I’m sorry. Mistress Katy. I told Lady Gwen that Mastah Adam was in the fields but she insisted on waiting in here for him.”

Alexa felt the color drain from her face. The last person in the world she expected to see this morning was Lady Gwen. Courage, Alexa, she told herself, drawing in a deep, steadying breath. If she passed the test with Gwen it was unlikely she would be recognized by anyone else in Savannah.

“So, it’s true!” Gwen ground out from between clenched teeth as she glared contemptuously at Alexa.

“I beg your pardon,” replied Alexa, feigning ignorance. “Who are you?”

“I am Lady Gwen Wright. Lord Penwell’s fiancée,” declared Gwen boldly, “and you don’t have to tell me who you are. I heard from my dressmaker that Adam recently purchased a gown for some woman. It wasn’t for me so I concluded he must have a mistress tucked
away here at Foxworth Manor. How convenient for him.”

Alexa flushed but refused to be cowed by Gwen’s snide remarks. “Adam’s financée?” she questioned guilelessly. “I was under the impression that Adam already had a wife.”

“He did have a wife but she is dead. She was a traitor and rescued on the eve of her hanging by a pirate. Nothing has been heard of her for years and Adam is convinced she is no longer alive.”

“I see,” was all Alexa said, turning her face so her long, blond hair partially obscured her features.

“Where did Adam find a lowborn slut like you?” demanded Gwen disparagingly. Alexa refused to rise to the bait, further angering Gwen. “Probably on one of those mysterious trips of his,” she sniffed, answering her own question, “that he takes so frequently. Where is your lover?”

“Adam is in the fields, just as Jem told you. No doubt he’ll be back shortly. Do you wish to wait?”

While Alexa spoke in a soft, whispery voice she hoped would fool Gwen, a nagging suspicion tugged at the haughty Englishwoman and she peered sharply at the beautiful blond, her eyes narrowed in thought. “Do I know you?” she asked, observing Alexa closely. “For some reason you look familiar.”

“No, I’ve never seen you before,” insisted Alexa, stifling the urge to run as far away as she could in order to escape Lady Gwen’s sharp eyes. “I’ve just recently come down from Charleston.”

“So, that’s where Adam found you,” Gwen snarled, in her anger forgetting Alexa’s similarity to someone she was certain she knew. “In some brothel, no doubt.”

Alexa lowered her head, blushing, which to Gwen was a near admission of guilt. “Ha! I knew it!” crowed Gwen triumphantly. “Surely you must know that a whore like
yourself can mean nothing to a man like Lord Penwell no matter how beautiful … Adam and I are to be married soon and I suggest you leave of your own accord while you are still able.”

Gwen’s thinly veiled threat hung in the air like heady autumn smoke. “I will leave when Adam tells me to and not before,” Alexa declared, her voice laced with loathing. Try as she might Alexa could not forget that the despicable Englishwoman standing before her had intimate knowledge of Adam’s love.

“I don’t believe I’ll wait for Adam after all,” Gwen announced. “It’s degrading to me to remain in the same room with his whore. Tell him for me he has much explaining to do and I’ll expect him in Savannah within the next twenty-four hours or our engagement is off.”

“Somehow I don’t think Adam will care,” replied Alexa softly. Highly insulted as well and enraged at Adam, Gwen turned and flounced from the room in a snit, unaware that she had dropped her reticule just outside the door in her haste to leave Alexa’s daunting presence.

The moment Gwen rushed from the room Alexa’s knees began to wobble and she clutched at the back of a chair to keep from collapsing. For one awkward moment during the entire interchange Alexa feared Gwen had seen through her feeble attempt to disguise her true identity. After all, she had done little more than bleach her hair. But thankfully, Gwen’s anger had prevented her from delving too deeply into her memory.

Suddenly a loud voice interrupted her ruminations. “Alexa, my love, look who’s here!” Alexa whirled as Adam came striding through the French doors followed by Mac and Drake. “I thought I’d find you here,” Adam grinned, slipping an arm about her slim waist.

“Adam, please be quiet,” Alexa warned, placing a finger to his lips. “Gwen was just here.”

“I know,” Adam replied, “we saw her carriage drive off as we came through the fields. What did she want? Did she recognize you?”

“I’ll tell you later, Adam, after I’ve properly greeted our friends,” smiled Alexa, offering her hands to Mac and Drake. A handshake did not satisfy Mac as he drew Alexa into his arms and planted an exuberant kiss on her soft lips despite Adam’s jealous glare.

“Now I can tell you,” Alexa said, turning back to Adam. “I don’t think Gwen recognized me though she did give me quite a scare. But let’s forget her for the time being.”

“Alexa, had I known I was creating the Vixen when I taught you to sail and use a weapon I would have refused your request outright instead of letting you wheedle me into doing something that went against my better judgment,” Mac declared with a twinkle. “I’m surprised Adam still speaks to me, let alone allows me in his house.”

“It’s over with, Mac.” Alexa smiled almost regretfully, for she did miss the excitement of her former life. “I am no longer the Vixen.”

“You don’t know how happy that makes me,” Drake cut in, greeting Alexa every bit as exuberantly as Mac. “I was hoping when you and Fox clashed on the island he would insist you return to Nassau.”

“When did you find out about Fox, Alexa?” Mac asked. “On the island?”

“No,” Alexa grinned impishly. “I knew Adam was the Fox long before that.”

“I’ll bet that’s some story,” leered Mac wolfishly.

“One that shall remain untold,” Adam declared, slanting Alexa a challenging look.

Alexa glared back defiantly. “You kept me in the dark concerning your activities for so long you deserved whatever you got.”

“Alexa,” warned Adam, tempering his warning with amusement.

“Oh, all right, Adam,” Alexa capitulated, feigning defeat. Then she burst into laughter until Adam followed suit, quickly catching Mac and Drake in their hilarity.

Had Alexa and her companions been able to see through the closed door they wouldn’t have felt so joyous and carefree. Lady Gwen did indeed leave in her carriage but she hadn’t rounded the bend before she missed her reticule and ordered her driver back to the house. Certain that she had dropped her bag in the hallway, Gwen did not bother to knock but slipped through the unlatched door and retraced her steps to the study where she had encountered Alexa a short time earlier. She spotted her reticule almost immediately and bent to retrieve it. It was then she heard loud voices and the names of the infamous pirates, Fox and Vixen, spoken.

Gwen felt no qualms about putting her ear to the door and listening to the conversation. Her eyes grew round as saucers and her mouth trembled in disbelief as she shared secrets no one but the people in the room were privy to. That the woman she had spoken to only moments before was Adam’s wife came as no surprise for she had already begun to suspect the blond woman was other than she pretended. But to learn that Alexa was the Vixen was a stroke of luck she hadn’t counted upon.

What she heard so stunned her that her legs refused to hold her and she dropped to her knees before the door. Adam Foxworth, Lord Penwell, the man she had hoped to marry was the Fox—that wily privateer who seemed at times to disappear into thin air to stymie his foe! And no wonder! In reality he was a respected member of English nobility. And now, she alone knew their secret.
But not for long. She grinned deviously as she picked herself off the floor and left the house as quietly as she had entered.

Inside the study the four privateers celebrated their reunion oblivious to Gwen’s hasty exit as they raised glasses of sparkling brandy in a toast to a United States of America free from English intervention.

“I know the
Ghost
is on its way here to pick up Adam,” Alexa said after their toast had been made, “but what are you two doing here with your ships?”

“Good news, Alexa,” Mac revealed, elated. “De Grasse and a large contingent of twenty-eight French vessels and 3300 troops sailed from Haiti for the Chesapeake. We are to rendezvous here with the
Ghost
, pick up Fox, and depart immediately to join the battle in the north which is bound to be decisive.”