The Duke's Lady (Historical Romance - The Ladies Series) (38 page)

Adam struggled with his emotions. But in the end he did leave, not giving in to the temptation to stay. This was better than losing his temper with her, and he had many things to sort through his mind. Maybe when this battle was over, they could sit down and talk, but right now he’d have to stay focused on what lay ahead. All of New Orleans could be in danger.

After Adam left, Jewel cried herself to sleep. His hug had been strange. It had felt so final, as if he’d never return. She should have told him. Why didn’t she tell him the truth? Jewel scolded herself.

She hadn’t even told him she loved him.

Chapter Twenty-six

Now was Jean’s chance.

His attorney arranged a meeting with Jackson. Jean had heard that the general was having a hard time doing his job with what he’d been given. “So, why not sweeten the deal to my advantage?” he said out loud, then laughed as he dismounted from his white stallion, tied the reins, then climbed the steps of a secluded cabin.

He knocked on the door and upon hearing “Enter,” moved into the room. Jackson stood and frowned.

“General. I’m Jean Lafitte.” He nodded, not offering to shake the general’s hand.

“Be seated,” Jackson said gruffly as he took his seat behind the desk. “What can I do for you, Lafitte?”

“Jean, if you please.” Lafitte grinned. He liked keeping the general off balance. “It’s not what you can do for me, but what
I
can do for you, General.”

“Really?”

“Oui.
I believe you’re in need of flints.”

“I am.” Jackson stood abruptly and went over to look out the window. “A good general is one who wins battles, but with what I’ve been given to work with, the task seems all but impossible.”

“That’s why I’m here. I have seventy-five hundred flints and a crew of men who’d fight anyone at the drop of a hat.”

Jackson turned back from the window. “Interesting. But why be so generous when you’ve been treated so badly?”

“I have no love for the British.” Jean shrugged. “And I’ll not buffalo you. In exchange for the flints, I want a full pardon for my brother and my men. Upon your signed agreement, we’ll be ready to take up arms and fight with you.”

Jackson moved over to stand in front of Lafitte. “You have your agreement, Jean. Perhaps I’ve misjudged you. Adam Trent told me I’d seek your help before this battle was over. Needless to say, I should have listened to him sooner.”

It was still early morning when Jackson left to inspect his defenses. Most of the area, he discovered, was either swamp or open water. There were only two possible avenues of approach to the city. Adam had advised Jackson that the British would more than likely take Chef Menteur Road. Adam’s reason was valid. It was one of the few roads that were solid and would support the weight of cannons. Now that Jackson saw the road, he agreed with Adam. Chef Menteur Road ran from just north of the city, northeast to a strip of land known as the Plain of Gentilly. It reached to Lake Borgne, which connected with the sound between the Chandeleur Islands.

Adam arrived just as the general finished his inspection. “I see you decided to study the road yourself?” Adam raised a brow, questioning the general.

“Of course. You know I investigate everything.”

Adam had begun explaining the region to General Jackson when a distant rider appeared. Upon reaching them, the courier jerked back on the reins. “I’ve a dispatch for the general.”

Adam watched as Jackson read the note, then shook his head. “It’s bad news. Lieutenant Catesby Jones says the British have attacked five of his gunboats.” The general looked over at Adam. “It seems Jones had to retreat into the shallow waters of Lake Borgne. Jones said they were enormously outnumbered, but they fought well.”

“Did any of his crews survive?” Adam asked.

“His crews are either dead or now prisoners.” The general wadded up the letter.

“Damn,” Adam swore. “That means the gate is wide open for the British. This isn’t a good sign. I hope you have a trick or two up your sleeve, General. We’re going to need it.”

Their moods were somber as they hurried back to New Orleans. Adam had done well keeping his mind on the upcoming battle, but now his thoughts were on Jewel and his sister. He prayed they didn’t venture from the plantation. They would be safe there. He’d left a few men to watch over them, but if the British started moving inland, he would find Jonathan and together they would protect his family.

“I think you should send for your nephew, Brigadier Coffee,” Adam suggested, trying to put his mind back to the main objective. “He’s at Baton Rouge, and I think we could use his twenty-five hundred Tennessee militiamen,” Adam said. “The quicker the better.”

It was three o’clock in the afternoon when Major Villere and his friend Dussau de la Croix, both breathless, entered the command post at Royal Street. “We would like to see General Jackson urgently!”

The desk sergeant, seeing no need to hurry, spat out the tobacco he was chewing. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stated casually, “The general is busy. Have a seat and I’ll tell him you’re here.”

“Are you deaf ? I said it was urgent, man!” Major Vellere protested.

“No, I ain’t deaf!” The sergeant slammed his hand down on the desk. “You’re not a military man, even though you’re referred to as ‘Major.’ It’s a courtesy title, and you’ve no right to demand anything.”

Adam was in his office. The commotion outside the door drew his attention. He went to investigate. “What’s the trouble here?”

“Adam.” A look of relief flooded the major’s face
upon seeing someone he knew. “I must see the general. The British have taken over my plantation. We just came from there, barely escaping with our lives!” Overly excited, he lapsed into French, and it was hard to understand what he was saying. Dussau de la Croix, after catching his breath, began to babble about the number of soldiers.

Adam understood Major Villere enough to take him and his friend in to see Jackson himself, leaving the sputtering sergeant behind him.

They entered the general’s office unannounced. “Andrew, I think these men have some information for you. It sounds important.”

Jackson listened carefully, nodding as Villere recounted what had happened at his plantation.

“I was asleep on the veranda, and when I awoke, I was surrounded by Redcoats. I couldn’t believe it! They came in just as if they owned the place. I knew you had to be told, General, so I jerked free from the man holding me and vaulted the railing. I ran like hell and headed for the swamp. They were shooting at me the whole time. They followed, but stopped dead in their tracks when I entered the swamp. I lost them, met my friend, and we came straight here, General.”

Adam watched Jackson as he realized the full meaning of what the major had said. Jackson’s face had grown pale, but other than that he showed no outward emotion.

“How many men do you think they have?”

“It looked to be a brigade, maybe two thousand men.”

“I see,” Jackson said. Turning his back to the men, he walked over to his window—a habit that Adam had learned meant the general was deep in thought. Jackson remained quiet for several moments. Slowly, he turned back to the men who waited for him to speak.

“Major, this day you’ve performed a brave deed, and I thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Tom,” he yelled for the desk sergeant.

“Yes, sir, General.”

“Get my horse and my sword.”

“What are you going to do?” Adam asked.

“If they want a fight, then by, God,
gentlemen, we’ll give them a fight!” Jackson cried. “We will fight them tonight! Right now!”

The sun hung low in the sky when Adam and his men set out. He had been given what seemed like an impossible task to perform, but by God, perform it he would. They traveled at a steady pace, not
stopping until they saw the first glow of the enemy’s campfires.

Adam nudged his horse into a trot over to Jackson’s side. “Look, General. The Redcoats are in a bare sugarcane field, with no trees for protection. Perhaps they will be easy pickings after all.”

“It’s perfect.” Jackson grinned.

He waited until dark before giving the command to attack. A white mist had settled in, making the flashes from the muskets’ fire seem eerie. The gun smoke hung in the air, mixing with the mist and causing poor visibility. At times they couldn’t even see where they were firing.

The fighting grew fierce and bloody. However, the superior discipline of the British soldiers was apparent, and at last that discipline began to tell. Andrew Jackson did something he usually didn’t do; he ordered a retreat.

“Where to?” Adam hollered over his shoulder.

“Rodriguez Canal. We will regroup there.”

The British didn’t pursue. They’d had enough for one night.

“We’ll regroup and attack in the morning,” Jackson said.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why, Adam?”

“I just talked to Jonathan. He went with the Choctaw scouts to check on the enemy. He heard them say they thought any man like this American general crazy enough to attack at night must have fifty thousand troops. Jonathan said the British were being heavily reinforced.”

“I see your point. That does make a difference. But we won’t retreat again! It’s not in my nature.” Jackson rubbed his chin in thought. “Have you an account of our dead and wounded?”

“Yes, we had twenty-four killed and at least a hundred wounded.”

I’m disappointed we didn’t get a victory,” Jackson confessed. “But at least we showed the British that Americans can fight.”

And so the wait began. This time they would wait for the British to attack.

The Rodriguez Canal, a man-made irrigation ditch about ten feet wide and three quarters of a mile long, extended from the river. Because of the lowness of the Mississippi, there wasn’t any water in the canal now, and the Americans found it the perfect place to dig in. They placed bales of cotton up on the banks for extra protection from bullets, being careful to cover the bales with dirt for fear of fire.

The men worked hard, forgoing sleep. The general and Adam hadn’t slept either. They were there to drive their men on, knowing time was of the essence.

But when morning dawned, there was no attack, so everyone dug in and waited. Jackson was not idle, but feverishly busy having supplies brought out from the city. They searched for every available firearm that could be found while reinforcing their positions.

The weather turned miserable and it rained much of the time. The nights were cold and damp. Some men didn’t even have tents where they could sleep and escape the weather. The cold ground was their only bed, and threadbare blankets their only comfort. They huddled near the campfires to receive what little warmth they could provide. Adam worried about the men being cold and wet. He prayed none of the men developed consumption. They couldn’t afford to lose good men.

Adam was also concerned about their commander. Jackson seldom got more than an hour of sleep, and he had developed dysentery. The
general wouldn’t let it stop him, even though he was a walking, wincing
skeleton. He constantly checked on his troops, scolding or encouraging them.

On the morning of December twenty-seventh, a loud explosion rocked the area. Adam and the general wondered what it could be. Later they found out it was their ship, the
Carolina.

The
Carolina
had been pounding the British with gunfire. The English had issued orders to mount four twenty-four-pound howitzers on the levee. They had a lucky hit, sending a red-hot ball into the magazine of the
Carolina.
She exploded with a roar that rattled windows clear up in New Orleans, and then she sank.

It was the day after Christmas, and a more
miserable Christmas Jewel couldn’t remember. She and Elizabeth tried to make the best of things, but they missed Adam and Jonathan. Since they hadn’t received any word on what was happening, they were forced to sit and wait, and wonder . . . and most of all worry. One night they did hear volleys of gunfire, and assumed a battle of some sort had occurred.

“I’ll just die if something happens to Jonathan,” Elizabeth confided to Jewel.

“You know how experienced they are, Elizabeth. I’m sure they will be just fine. Wait and see.” Jewel tried to sound optimistic. She had worried many times something might happen to Adam, and she’d give anything to see him. And this time she would
tell Adam just how much she loved him. And she’d fight
to make
him love her.

The next day Elizabeth said she was going for a ride. Jewel didn’t think it was a good idea with the British troops about.

“Don’t be silly, Jewel. I’m English, remember? Besides, we haven’t seen any soldiers, and I just have to get out of this house. I promise I’ll stay on Four Oaks land.” Elizabeth rode off, vowing she wouldn’t go far.