The Duke's Lady (Historical Romance - The Ladies Series) (40 page)

The Baratarian only grinned, and the general moved on, inspecting his troops. Adam walked beside him, nodding and answering questions.

The very core of their defense would be the frontier hunters. Despite homespun shirts and coonskin caps, they were deadly with the long rifles they carried.

A light breeze began to strip the fog away, and without warning, the defenders stared at a rank of scarlet coats. Quickly, Adam took his position behind several bales of hay.

The British began advancing, and compared to Jackson’s
ragamuffins, they were splendidly dressed. Their discipline was evident in the perfectly straight lines they maintained. Stern, brave soldiers in red coats and white cross belts would be a good target for the frontier hunters.

The drummers could be heard in the background, pounding a rhythmic beat for the men to march to. The British soldiers moved forward, bayonets fixed, each step perfect.

The Americans waited, and listened, fingers poised on the triggers, waiting for just the right moment. They looked forward to bagging a few.

The first shot rang out. It was the only invitation the Americans needed as they began firing rifle volleys at a long range that could not be believed. The British rifles had only a hundred-yard range, but the American rifles could shoot a distance of three hundred yards.

Instead of the Americans firing a volley, then stopping to reload, they fired in waves. As soon as one man fired, another was there to take his place while the first man reloaded. Clouds of smoke, streaked by flashes of fire, shrouded the American ramparts. Every shot counted, for the frontier hunters were deadly accurate.

“Unbelievable!” Pakenham, the British commander, gaped at the continuous, concentrated fire of the Americans. “It’s fatal. Never have my troops faced gunfire at such a range.”

After watching the carnage of the first attack, Pakenham wasn’t sure what to do. As if his prayers were answered, he received renewed hope. The Ninety-Third Foot Regiment marched across the field from the river. Those Scotland Highlanders had never known defeat.

“Let’s see how the Americans handle these men!” Pakenham laughed, thinking he had the perfect answer.

The Highlanders swung onto the battle front, their bagpipes skirling the blood-stirring music of Scotland.

“What’s that god-awful sound?” some of Jean’s men shouted.

Adam, who had been fighting by their side, readily supplied the answer. “Those, gentlemen, are bagpipes. I suspect we are getting ready to taste some gunfire from Scotland.”

“Look!” Dominique chuckled as he pointed toward the field. “Just how tough can they be?” Dominique laughed. “Look at them . . . they’re wearing skirts!”

“Bring them on!” the pirates shouted. “We’ll send them running back to their mothers.” A cheer swept through the soldiers as they positioned their rifles and took aim. Adam would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so serious.

There was something majestic about the Highlanders’ advance. Time and again they closed ranks as their men fell, but always they marched forward.

Adam noticed a horse and rider cut across the field. Just what fool could that be? Before Adam could blink, the rider was shot and fell from his horse.

“Hand me a spyglass,” Adam shouted. He looked at the downed rider. “My God, it’s Jonathan!” What in the world could he have been thinking of, to try such a dangerous stunt? “Cover me, men,” Adam shouted over the gunfire. “I’m going after him.”

“Are you crazy?” Jean protested. “You’ll be shot, too!”

“Not if your aim is accurate, my friend.”

Adam zigzagged across the field, staying close to the ground, until he reached Jonathan, who hadn’t move since he’d fallen. Blood plastered his shirt and he had a nasty chest wound. For a moment, Adam thought the worst. With two fingers, he checked his friend’s throat for a pulse and found it strong. Thank goodness. Now he could personally kill him for trying such a stupid stunt, Adam swore to himself.

He needed to get Jonathan back to the rampart. In order to do that, he would have to stand, making a perfect target for the British, but he had little choice. They would both be killed if they stayed there.

Adam swung Jonathan over his shoulder and started running. It was much farther than he’d first thought. The back of his legs started to burn. His labored breathing grew louder in his ears with each step until it had blocked out the guns altogether. A bullet whizzed by, much too close for comfort.
Only a few more steps. I can make it. Just keep running. We're almost there.
Three feet in front of the rampart a searing pain hit his side and he yelled as he grabbed for the wound. The impact sent them both tumbling into the ditch.

“Adam’s been shot!” Jean
shouted as he jumped to his feet. “Run and fetch the doc.”

After Jean was sure neither man was in danger, he again took his position. Jean looked around him.
Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones.
Someone called his name. He swung in the direction of the sound.

Ben ran toward him as if the demons of Hell were on his heels. Jean didn’t know the man could move that fast. Something must definitely be wrong.

“What’s the trouble, Ben?”

“They have Jewel . . . I’ve found Jewel . . . they have her!”

“Wait! You’ve found Jewel?” Jean was shocked. How could Ben have found his niece
here?
“Is she all right?” He clasped his hands on Ben’s meaty arms. “Where is she?”

“She’s here, I found her . . .
They
have her!” Ben kept repeating himself. “Where’s Pierre?”

“Pierre’s in hiding. Some of the men took him to a hideout when they broke him out of jail. But he should be back at the compound when this battle is finished. Why do you ask?”

“I was with them when they freed Pierre, and he said he’d seen Jewel.”

“I don’t understand any of this . . . who has Jewel?” Jean shouted as he shook the big bear of a man.

“That English captain. I heard his men call him Captain Lee.”

After a long pause, during which Jean fought for self-control, he gathered enough men to handle a ship, leaving the rest behind. He knew where Lee would be headed, and Jean intended to meet him there. Unfortunately, the captain had a head start.

Having left the fighting behind, Jean stopped when he heard the Americans wildly cheering in the background. The battle must be over. He grinned, feeling a deep satisfaction for his small part in it.

The Battle of New Orleans had ended. It was a crushing defeat for the British Army. Adam stood staring out over the field strewn with bodies forgetting his own pain. The British had lost more than two thousand men killed, wounded, or taken prisoner. The Americans’ loss was seventy-one, with only thirteen of those killed.

The battle had been fierce, Adam thought, but thank God victory was theirs. He still wore the bloodstained shirt as he tried to help others worse off than himself. Jonathan had been moved to a hospital where Adam knew he’d receive excellent care. Now it was
his
turn. After the doctor extracted the bullet, he wrapped Adam’s side with long strips to contain the bleeding, and told him to stay off his feet for the next forty-eight hours. But Adam’s only thought was to get home to his wife.

By the time Adam returned to the field, Jean seemed to have disappeared and no one knew where he’d gone. Adam bade the general farewell. He was going home.

Four Oaks was a welcome sight indeed as Adam slid from his horse and stumbled to the front doors.

“Jewel!” Adam shouted when he entered the house. It was much too quiet; an eerie feeling prevailed. “Jewel, where are you?” Adam repeated his bellowed cry, and it echoed around the house.

He heard footsteps upstairs, and moved to the staircase. Elizabeth came flying down the steps, throwing her arms around his neck. “Thank God, you’re home!” She stepped back and saw the bloodstain on his shirt. “Oh, my God, you’ve been hurt!”

“A small flesh wound.” Adam tried to smile. “I’ll be fine, but where is Jewel?”

“Adam, it was awful!” An odd look entered Elizabeth’s eyes, and she hung her head.

Adam’s muscles tightened. The hair stood up on the back of his neck as his apprehension grew. He took Elizabeth by the arm and escorted her to the library. Still holding her with his good hand, he winced as he sloshed liquor into a glass. Christ, he needed some brandy, bad.

“For once in your life, dear sister, don’t be rattled. Where is Jewel?”

“Gone.”

Adam took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm until he got the full story. Elizabeth looked as if she could become hysterical at any moment, and he didn’t need that. He needed his wife.

Adam’s voice softened. “Tell me what happened.”

Elizabeth twisted the white lace handkerchief she clutched in her trembling fingers. “I went riding the day after Christmas.” She held up her hand. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I had to get away from the house. If only I had listened to Jewel, none of this would have occurred.”

“What wouldn’t have happened?”

“Two men approached as I sat in a small coffeehouse. They told me they had been sent by Jewel and I was to accompany them. I thought something had happened to you or Jonathan.” Elizabeth gave him a pleading look before continuing. “The men took me to a dock, but Jewel was nowhere to be found. By the time I realized something was wrong, a cape had been thrown over my head. The next thing I knew, I was on a ship. It was awful, Adam.” She started to cry.

“Keep on, Elizabeth. Tell me everything.” Adam’s voice held a dull edge. He dreaded what was to come. A muscle throbbed in his jaw as he fought to control his temper.

“They threw me in a small dark room. I don’t know how long I stayed there. It seemed like a day. Then
he
came. He brought an oil lamp, so I could see his face.”

“Who, Elizabeth?”

“I never heard his name, but someone addressed him as ‘Captain.’ He was a hard-looking man. I’d never seen him before. The whole time he talked to me he ran his hand over a long, nasty scar that ran across his face, and there was hatred in his eyes. I didn’t understand why.” Elizabeth frowned. “He was calm at first, but when he began talking about Jewel, he changed. He started pacing the room and became wild with agitation. Then he . . . ,” Elizabeth choked. “He ... oh, Adam, it was so awful.” She sobbed.

“What, Elizabeth?” Every muscle strained in Adam’s body as the rage brewed within him. “Tell me!”

“I can’t tell you—” She became hysterical and cried just that much harder, shaking her head.

Adam tried to calm her down. They were losing precious time. “I want to know if he hurt you, Elizabeth. Remember, Jewel’s life could be in danger. You must tell me!”

“He made me take off all my clothes,” Elizabeth whispered in a small voice.

Adam felt as if someone had slammed a fist into his midsection. He took Elizabeth in his arms, rocking her back and forth, not trusting his voice at this very moment.

“When he was finished with me . . . ,” Elizabeth said, choking on her tears, “he said that was a small payment you owed him.” Adam tensed, “He told me to put on my clothes, all but my chemise. That he kept and sent to Jewel with a note. He said I’d better pray she complied with his demands, or he would let every man on the ship have a turn with me. Oh, God, Adam! I was so afraid,” she sobbed. Sniffing, she asked, “Do you know who he is?”

Adam continued rocking Elizabeth, stroking her hair while she cried. “Yes, I know who he is,” he said tersely. “Finish your story. What happened to Jewel?”

“She did as the note requested, and traded places with me.

“Traded places?” Adam wasn’t sure he could take much more.

“I begged her not to go, but she didn’t have any choice. They had guns pointed at her.” Elizabeth pulled back and looked at him. “Jewel was so brave. She made sure I was safe before she left with them.”

“Did Jewel say anything?”

“No. She didn’t even look back as she stepped into their boat—wait a minute, Jewel did say something. She said she left a note in your room.” Elizabeth leaned back away from Adam. “You have to find her, Adam! She gave herself up for me.”

Adam kissed his sister on the forehead before hurrying to the door. “I’ll have Annie come and stay with you. I’m going after Jewel.”

“Adam do you know who the man was?” Elizabeth asked again.

“Yes, Elizabeth.” His gaze drifted to the stairs. “He’s a dead man.”

As soon as Adam entered his chambers, he saw the necklace and the note on which it laid. His face turned grim. Damn, he was tired. He poured himself another brandy and sat down with the note. Slowly, Adam opened the note and read.

Dear Adam,

Where do I start? I remember my identity. My name is Jewel Bona. Why haven’t I told you until now? I have asked myself that question a thousand times.

I realize now that I could never fit into your life. You were born of royal blood. I’m but a mere commoner.

I suppose I was afraid of the revulsion I would see in
your eyes. You see, my uncles are Jean and Pierre Lafitte. They are pirates, but they are kind and gentle to me. They raised me from a small child. I cannot let your family, or you, suffer for my past; therefore, I am leaving.