The Sea Hawk (18 page)

something to eat and rest for a little while."

"I'm fine, Captain."

"I insist and would appreciate it if you would not continue to argue with me."

When Julia looked up, prepared to say something, her words were stopped by the look in Simone's eyes. Instead she said, "Perhaps you are right. I will rest until you are ready to remove this man's arm, but expect to be awakened to assist you."

Taking Julia by the arm, Simone led her to her cabin under the wheel deck. "I have much to do. Please rest in my cabin until I am ready."

Once again Julia started to protest, but was overcome with exhaustion. Nodding, she entered Simone's cabin. Lying down on the soft bed, she was nearly asleep before her head hit the pillow. Simone drew a light duvet over her and couldn't resist observing the sleeping woman for a few moments before returning to her duties.

IT WAS STILL barely daylight when Julia was awakened by a light shaking of her shoulder. Momentarily disoriented, she rubbed her face and opened her eyes. Simone stood next to the bed. "We are ready," she said softly.

Julia swung her legs off the bed and glanced around. Spotting a water basin on a small table, Julia poured some water into the basin and splashed it on her face. When she turned around, Simone handed her a small towel. "Where will you do it?" Julia asked.

"On deck. It will be easier to clean up than the crew's quarters." Simone placed her hand on Julia's back as she escorted her back onto the deck. As she knelt down next to Pierre, Julia saw an empty bottle of rum lying nearby. Four crew members were positioned near the unconscious crewman, another held a torch for additional lighting.

"Where do I make the cut?" Simone asked.

"Here, just above the elbow," Julia said. She tied a tourniquet tightly around Pierre's upper arm, then took the injured man's hand and turned it slightly, holding it firmly on the deck at a right angle to his body.

Simone drew her cutlass and waited until the mangled arm was away from Pierre's body. Julia held her breath as Simone poured rum over the blade and nodded at the other crewmen. They grasped his remaining arm and legs and held them tightly. With a quick glance at Julia, Simone raised the cutlass over her head and brought it down in a single powerful stroke, severing the useless arm. She ran the blade through the flame of the torch, heating it, and then pressed the flat of the blade against the open wound to stem the flow of blood.

The scent of burning flesh made Julia lightheaded and she blinked back the white dots dancing in front of her eyes as she wrapped the fresh wound tightly. Infection would remain a concern and she hoped the injured man would survive until they reached Bayou LaFourche. She felt a cold sweat break out along her forehead and felt suddenly nauseous. She began breathing through her mouth to make the feeling go away. She raised her head to take a deep breath and saw one of the crewmen toss the severed limb overboard. It was the last thing she remembered before she was engulfed in darkness.

A COOL CLOTH covered her eyes and she raised her hand to move it. "No. Let it remain a little longer," Simone's voice said.

"What happened?" Julia mumbled.

"You fainted."

"I'm sorry."

"No need to be. We finished what needed to be done. Thank you." Julia felt fingertips brush along the side of her face and across her forehead.

"How is Pierre?"

"He is resting below. A friend is keeping watch over him tonight, along with a bottle of rum."

"I am fine now, Captain. I should return to my quarters. All I need is a good night's sleep."

"You may stay here, if you wish."

Julia reached up and pulled the cloth from her eyes. Simone sat beside her on the bed. It was dark in the Captain's quarters save for a single candle on the washstand near the bed. In the candlelight, Simone was breathtakingly beautiful as the dim light cast reddish-orange shadows across her face. Julia brought her hand up to touch Simone's face, but stopped herself. "You need to rest as well, Captain. It has been a very long day. Where is Joaquin?"

"He has been asleep for an hour or more already. When I was a child I could sleep through anything. It would be nice to have such a sleep again. Perhaps one day when I am away from the sea."

Julia propped herself on an elbow and turned sideways on the bed. Scooting to the far side of the bed, she said, "I sleep better when I am not alone. If you don't mind, I will accept your offer to stay here."

Simone rose and went to her desk. As she sat and opened her journal, she said, "I must write the day's events in my journal. Please rest."

WARMTH ENGULFED JULIA. She smiled in her sleep as she fell deeper into her dream. She felt safe, but could feel her body react to the images in the dream. She stirred slightly, her body seeking the source of her arousal. She sensed a presence behind her and edged her hips toward it until they fit into a solid curve. Movement against her back and warm breath along her neck sent a shiver through her. A strong arm encircling her waist pulled her closer and a voice sighed in contentment as a knee rose to rest along the back of her thighs. Her hips moved and her legs parted, seeking to increase the contact. She gasped as she felt a hand slip slowly up her side, stroking and teasing the curve of her breast. Soft lips of an unseen lover moved down the side of her neck and across her bare shoulders. Her body reacted to the teasing touches, setting her on fire inside. She tried to move to take in her lover's face, but was held in place by the strong arm around her. As fingertips trailed between her breasts and made their way down toward her hairline, she lifted her hips to greet them, to welcome them into the refuge of her body. She saw a flash of short dark hair as lips traveled around her neck. "Simone," she breathed.

SIMONE WROTE IN her journal, occasionally stopping to watch the sleeping woman in her bed. What would it feel like to drape an arm over Julia's waist, breathing in her scent? she wondered. There was something unusual about Julia Blanchard and Simone wished she could have the opportunity to discover her secrets one by one. Turning back to her journal she sketched Julia's face. It joined others she had drawn during their voyage, each attempting to catch the fire in her eyes, the up-turn of her lips just before they parted in a smile. Her attention to her drawing was interrupted by the sound of Julia breathing her name

"Julia," Simone said as she stood next to the bed. "Julia, are you ill?"

Julia blinked her eyes open to see Simone standing over her. "What is it?" she asked.

"I heard you call my name in your sleep while I wrote in my journal. Are you having a bad dream?"

Simone asked as she ran her hand across Julia's forehead. "You are very warm."

"Yes. Yes, it must have been a dream," Julia said, sitting up. "I think perhaps I will take in some fresh air. Today has been quite stressful."

Simone offered Julia her hand and helped her off the bed. They stood close to one another awkwardly for a moment before Simone reluctantly stepped back. "Perhaps you should eat something light as well," she suggested.

"Yes, I will do that, Captain. Thank you," Julia said as she made her way to the door of the Captain's quarters.

Chapter Thirteen

JULIA MANAGED TO keep her distance from Simone, as well as maintain her sanity, the remainder of the voyage. The flotilla of ships was favored by northerly winds that carried them toward their destination without encountering additional British ships. Over dinner Simone surmised the British fleet may have curtailed their patrols in the Gulf of Mexico in preparation for their invasion along the American coast.

It became a daily ritual for Julia to stand on the bow of
Le Faucon
each evening and watch the sun dip into the waters of the Gulf. She felt the sea breeze ruffle her hair and ran a hand through it. It hadn't been its current length in a very long time. She always kept it short, in part due to her work underwater, but primarily because she hated the natural waves that appeared to have an unruly mind of their own.

"We will arrive at Bayou LaFourche soon," Simone said.

Julia turned and smiled at the captain. "How can you tell?"

The captain stepped next to her and squinted into the evening sky. She ran a hand up Julia's back and brought it to rest near the base of her neck. Julia shivered slightly at the touch. Pointing up Simone said, "The birds. They are never far from land."

Julia gazed upward and watched gulls glide along the invisible air streams rising from the water. The autumn sea breeze cooled her skin and the warmth from Simone's touch spread quickly through her body. She took a deep breath to control her impulse to move closer against Simone, perhaps to be gathered protectively in her arms and... "Within a week we will be in New Orleans and you shall be free once more to resume your life," Simone said, breaking into Julia's private reverie.

"It has been quite an adventure. An unforgettable one."

"Will you return to your home in Georgia?"

"Yes. I miss it as you miss your home on Martinique. But I will return to it not the same person as when I left."

Simone looked down at her. "Perhaps this voyage has changed us both in some ways."

"When this is over, perhaps one day you will visit Savannah. Parts of it, especially the lush greenery, remind me of
Le Repos
."

"
Faucon
," a crewman interrupted. "Your dinner is in your quarters."

"
Merci
, we shall be there shortly. Please inform Joaquin," Simone replied, not looking away from Julia's profile against the evening sky. She longed to feel the softness of the reddish-blonde hair under her fingertips and forced herself to turn away. She hadn't slept well since their encounter with the British ships. The lingering soft scent of Julia's body was imprinted on her pillow and bedding, yet she was unwilling to have it washed away. It crept into her senses as she slept, turning her rest into visions of desire. Offering her hand to Julia, she walked with her toward her cabin.

JOAQUIN STOOD IN front of Julia as the ships entered the deep water channel of Timbalier Bay. Laffite sent word there was ample anchorage for their ships out of sight of other vessels that might happen past the bay. Even in the rainiest season Bayou LaFourche would not accommodate anything as large as the British sloops of war. From Timbalier it was only a short overland trip to Bayou LaFourche. Secreted along the marshy shore of the bayou were several pirogues. Laffite and his immediate party made their way north through the swampy bayou toward the home of a business associate, Alexandre LaBranche.

Julia was awe-struck by the natural wild beauty of the area as crewmen poled through the waterway toward their destination. The tall grasses and marshes were home to a wide variety of birds and animals and she knew they were being observed as the boats moved quietly along. Everything was lush and beautiful while remaining wild and strangely eerie when seen through the gathering evening fog, not yet willing to surrender to the night. Snow-white egrets sailed over them and dipped close to the water before banking to settle in the shallow waters near solid land. Occasionally she heard the splashing sounds of fish jumping in and out of the water. Unseen currents moved without disturbing the surface. Julia felt incredibly relaxed and allowed her hand to trail in the water as the boat moved through it. A light touch on her shoulder drew her attention to Simone who was seated behind her. "There are alligators in these waters,
Mademoiselle
."

Simone chuckled as Julia jerked her hand from the water as if it were scalded. Julia dried her hand on the hem of her skirt and pulled Joaquin closer to her. There was little conversation to disturb the remainder of the evening quiet.

Two hours later the small boats made their way into an open, wider expanse of water and Julia saw a huge mansion looming in the distance. She and Joaquin shared the pirogue with Laffite and Simone, while Kitty, Esperanza, and Anton were in the pirogue behind them. As they neared the eastern shore of the bayou plantation, Laffite stood and waited until they were close enough to step onto the small plantation dock. She heard voices not far away as she accepted Simone's hand and felt solid ground beneath her feet for the first time in nearly a month.

The plantation home was a long two-story house in the French Creole style. Columns between the two stories supported a wide porch around the second floor. Considering its location near the river, Julia surmised the second floor served as protection from the river if it flooded. The silhouettes of numerous out building were scattered on one side and behind the main building.

The group followed Laffite up a small rise toward the mansion and were greeted by a distinguished looking man in his mid-forties. Laffite and the man hugged briefly and exchanged kisses on the cheeks. Turning to the rest of his party, Laffite said, "My friends, this is our host and my very good friend, Alexandre LaBranche. He was generous enough to offer us the use of his home." LaBranche was nearly as tall as Laffite, Julia estimated about six feet. Whiskers grew along the sides of his face to nearly his chin. Julia wondered if that was the style for gentlemen in the early eighteen-hundreds since Laffite had the same. When the introductions were completed, LaBranche ordered additional pirogues sent back to Timbalier Bay to bring the remaining crew to his home.

"Where are we?" Julia asked quietly as she walked beside Simone.

"This area is called the German Coast," Simone answered. "It provides a means for Laffite to smuggle merchandise into New Orleans without interference from customs officials or anyone intent on severing trade into the city."

"How far are we from New Orleans?"

"Not far. Perhaps twenty miles. No more than that. But this is not an area that can be easily searched unless you know the passages in and out as Laffite does."

Julia remembered seeing pictures of old Southern mansions and had visited a few which had been restored, but to actually see one in its own time period was amazing. She felt like a tourist as she gawked at the workmanship. Despite the darkness, she could clearly see the cypress boards near the entry held together by wooden pegs. Stepping into the front entryway, a disturbance behind her brought her attention back to the main portico.