Read The Sea Hawk Online

Authors: Brenda Adcock

Tags: #yellow rose books, #General, #Romance, #Science Fiction, #f/f, #Historical, #print, #Romance & Sagas, #Romance - Time Travel, #Fiction, #Time travel, #Fiction - Romance

The Sea Hawk (22 page)

BOOK: The Sea Hawk
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As quickly as her injury allowed, she climbed once again onto the cypress and drew its hanging moss around her, resting her head against its cool trunk to bring her laboring breath under control as the British floundered past her. She pulled a chunk of moss loose and clenched her teeth together tightly as she packed her wound to staunch the bleeding. Occasionally, musket fire followed by a scream and the sound of thrashing water penetrated the darkness, sending a chill down her spine.

By the time the sky began to lighten she hoped the soldiers had either abandoned their search or become lost in the swamp only to become a meal for an alligator. She slid carefully from her hiding place and quickly searched Archambault's body, relieving him of his pistol, ammunition, and cutlass. The hair along the back of her neck prickled unexpectedly and she looked around. The water a few yards from her rippled toward the patch of ground where she stood and she backed slowly away from Archambault's body. She barely made it behind the thick trunk of the cypress when the water erupted in front of her. The animal moved at an amazing speed, launching its body from the water. Its bright white maw sank into the body and began dragging it away. "
Bon appétit
," she muttered as she began pushing northward through the cold water of the swamp and marshes toward New Orleans.

ANTON MADE ARRANGEMENTS with Laffite's attorney and friend, Edward Livingston, to allow Julia and Kitty to stay at his home during the remainder of their stay in New Orleans. Julia slept fitfully, her worry about Simone making its way into her dreams. What if she never saw Simone again? What if she never had the opportunity to tell her of her feelings?

She was awakened by loud voices from the courtyard and went onto the balcony to see what was causing the disturbance. She was shocked when she saw Anton engaged in a frantic conversation with Esperanza. Rushing along the balcony until she reached the stairs, Julia hurried across the courtyard and grabbed Anton by the arm. "What is wrong? Where is Simone?"

"The British have her," he answered tersely. "Esperanza and Joaquin managed to escape."

Julia looked at Esperanza, who was obviously distraught. Blood finely covered her blouse and was smeared on her caramel skin. Shifting her eyes to Joaquin, Julia reached out for him and hugged him to her. "They are exhausted, Anton. We have to get them cleaned up and fed. They need to rest."

"We must gather the crew and rescue Simone," Esperanza said, tears leaving a reddish trail along her cheeks. "Anton, you must go for Laffite."

"I will leave at first light. Julia is right. There is little we can do now."

Joaquin looked up at Julia. "
Faucon
will escape. She will arrive soon," he said confidently even though his voice tremored.

"I know she will, Joaquin," Julia said without conviction as she stroked his hair. "Let's get you fed and ready for bed now." Looking over her shoulder, she said, "You cannot help Simone if you are too tired to move, Esperanza. Until Anton returns with help there is nothing to do but wait and hope she returns safely."

TWO OF THE longest days she could remember living dragged by as Julia waited for Simone to return. Alone at night she feared the worst, but refused to give up hope. To keep herself occupied, she continued tutoring Joaquin to take both their minds away from thoughts of Simone. They were in the middle of a mathematics lesson when Mr. Livingston rushed into the dining room.

"Jackson has arrived!" he announced.

Julia and Joaquin accompanied Livingston to the street and joined a gathering crowd of citizens trying to get their first glimpse of the man they hoped would be their savior. Julia had seen many pictures of Andrew Jackson astride his white horse leading a charge against British soldiers with barely a mark on him. The sight that greeted her didn't look remotely like the heroic figure in the history books.

Jackson sat in an open carriage as it made its way slowly down Rue de Royale toward the building he would use as his headquarters. He looked incredibly gaunt and pale, his face covered with wrinkles making him look much older than a man in his late forties. A thick head of white hair was combed back from his thin face. He waved unresolutely to the crowds that greeted him without smiling.
This is the man who saves New Orleans?

Livingston glanced at Julia, seeing the worry on her face. "General Jackson has been quite ill with dysentery for several weeks, but he will be up to the task, my dear," he said.

Nodding, Julia said, "I am sure he will be successful in defending the city, Mr. Livingston."

"I am meeting with him shortly as he addresses the citizens and must go. He has assured me he will defeat the British or give up his life in the endeavor. I have known him for many years and his word has always been good. Is there any word concerning Captain Moreau?"

"Not yet," Julia answered. "When will Laffite arrive?"

"Soon. I must convince the General to meet with Jean as soon as possible."

Chapter Seventeen

THE STREETS OF the city were dark as Simone staggered through them toward Laffite's blacksmith shop on Rue de Bourbon. Damp clothing clung to her skin. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so cold. Scattered flickering streetlights did little to penetrate the darkness hanging over the city. Laffite's men would know where to take her. Her side throbbed ceaselessly and it was difficult for her to breathe without pain. While she stopped the bleeding from her wound by packing it with mud and moss, it was a temporary measure at best. More than two days had passed since her escape and frequent stops to gather her strength or seek temporary warmth made the journey even longer. She was feverish, but continued moving. If she stopped again she might not be able to get up. She was barely recognizable as she stumbled into the side entrance of the blacksmith shop. The two men inside were startled and stared at her for a moment before she collapsed.

The next time she opened her eyes, she could barely make out the glow of a low oil lantern. Her side burned and she groaned as she brought her hand across her abdomen to touch the wound.

"No, don't," a soft voice said as a warm hand swept down her arm.

Simone jerked away from the touch, crying out from the pain coursing down her side. A flash of blonde imprinted itself on her feverish eyes before she succumbed to the darkness once again.

"SHE'S BURNING UP with fever," Julia said. Wringing out a cloth in cool water, she pressed it against Simone's forehead. "Are you certain the doctor cleaned the wound well enough?"

"There are many things in the swamp," Esperanza said, watching the concern on Julia's face. "If something made its way into her blood, there is no way for the doctor to remove it.
Faucon
will have to fight it. The mud she placed on the wound kept her from bleeding to death, but could kill her."

"She will not die!" Julia said, her eyes flashing as she looked up at Esperanza. "She is a strong woman."

"Only time will tell." Esperanza said.

"One of us should be with her at all times, talking to her. If she hears our voices, they will guide her back to us," Julia said as she gazed at Simone. She had never seen the strong, arrogant woman look so vulnerable.

Esperanze placed a hand on Julia's shoulder. "I will send Joaquin up to speak to her in a while. You must eat something less you fall ill as well."

"I am fine," Julia said as she wrung out the cloth again and placed it along Simone's neck. The truth was she had been terrified when Laffite's men brought Simone by carriage to Livingston's home. In the four days since Simone was brought to the house, Julia spent virtually all of her time watching over the captain's unconscious body. The wound from the musket ball tore a festering hole in her side. Aside from the germ-laden swamp, there was the possibility the musket ball lodged in her body had begun to poison her as well. Julia was heartened by the fact Simone seemed to be breathing easily while her body worked to heal itself.

As Esperanza withdrew from the room, Julia looked at Simone. The peacefulness of her face was occasionally broken by a light groan or frown and Julia couldn't imagine what might have been in her dreams.

"You'll be fine, Simone," Julia said softly. "Do you understand me? I couldn't bear not having you with me. We will win this battle and all return safely to Martinique. There's nothing for me to go home to so you're stuck with me for a while longer."

Julia rested her head on the edge of the bed and soon was overcome by exhaustion. Mental pictures of Simone standing tall and strong on the deck of her ship flipped through her mind. Other than the single kiss the day they first met, nothing more had happened between them other than in Julia's dreams. But she had seen more in Simone's eyes and didn't know what word to put to what she saw. Want. Need. Desire. She was certain Simone must have seen the same in her eyes and couldn't deny she had fallen in love with Simone based on little more than a look. Not even after a night of desperate passion had she felt the same way about any other woman. Smiling in her sleep, she was startled by a hand stroking her hair and sat up quickly. Pale eyes looked at her. "Oh, my God, Simone," she breathed.

"Why are you here?" Simone rasped.

"To care for you."

"I ordered you to leave. The British are south of the city awaiting their main force."

"I couldn't leave while you were injured. I know you are used to everyone jumping when you issue an order, but I am not a member of your crew."

"You are my...captive," Simone said.

"And you are mine," Julia whispered as she looked into the depths of Simone's eyes again, eyes that spoke more than words could ever hope to.

Over the next few days Julia, Esperanza, and Kitty, usually accompanied by Joaquin, assisted Simone in getting up from her bed in order to increase her strength. At first she was too weak to take more than two or three steps, but with each day, her strength slowly returned. Her appetite gradually improved and she regained some of the weight she lost during her ordeal. Julia enjoyed the times she spent with Simone, supporting her as she took halting steps around the enclosed garden courtyard of the Livingston home. She came to look forward to the times Simone gripped her shoulders to steady her body. Despite the cold weather, the sunlight seemed to rejuvenate the injured woman and occasionally she would rest halfway through her walk to soak in the sunshine, the color slowly returning to her face.

JULIA SLIPPED QUIETLY through the partially opened door, the only light from a small oil lamp on the dresser of the room, its wick set low, casting the room in a soft reddish glow. She hadn't intended to nap so long, but the exhaustion of the past two weeks finally caught up with her and she slept for several hours. The weather outside was humid and a cold, skin-penetrating rain began to fall, reminding everyone that even New Orleans was capable of experiencing winter. The household staff in the Livingston's home was already beginning to make preparations for the Christmas holiday that would be upon them in two weeks. It was Julia's favorite season of the year. She loved the smell of Christmas, the scent of freshly cut pine boughs and spices from foods simmering in the kitchen. She remembered holidays as a child when she and her brother frolicked in the snow surrounding their Virginia home, pelting one another with snowballs until their clothing became wet and heavy before warming themselves with their mother's homemade hot apple cider. Taking a deep breath, she could almost smell the cinnamon melting into the warm liquid.

Shifting her eyes to the far side of the room, a smile crossed her lips. Simone was still resting and Julia carefully approached the bed to set a mug of warm cider on the small table beside it. She couldn't stop herself from being amazed at how beautiful Simone was in repose, nor could she prevent her fingertips from lightly tracing the contours of Simone's cheeks and gently squared jaw. She didn't detect further sign of the fever that had ravaged Simone's body a week earlier and the doctor was amazed at how well the wound in her side was healing. Brushing aside a short lock of hair, Julia smiled down at Simone as she slept and turned to leave the room.

"
Bonsoir
," Simone said softly, causing Julia to look back at her, meeting the light golden eyes she had come to expect.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Julia replied.

"I was awake when you entered the room, but waited for the touch of your hand against my brow. I missed seeing you when I awoke earlier."

"I took a little nap while you were resting. Are you hungry?" Julia asked in almost a whisper. Looking down at her hands she knew there was so much she wanted to say to Simone. How scared she had been when she saw the ugly, festering wound in her side. How she couldn't go on living without her. But she couldn't bring herself to say any of the things she had said only to herself.

"I ate a light supper with Joaquin earlier. Please, come sit with me," Simone said as she pushed her body farther up on the bed. Quickly Julia went to her side and placed pillows behind her back. Simone grunted lightly at the effort. As she leaned back against the pillows, her face softened and she took a deep breath. "What is that delicious aroma?" she asked.

"Oh, I brought you a cup of apple cider. The weather is quite chilly today." Julia picked the cup up and held it to Simone's lips. As she drank, Simone brought her hands up to cover Julia's. When she swallowed and felt the warmth of the liquid flow down her throat, she smiled.

"It tastes even more delicious than it smells.

Thank you. Did you make it?"

"Yes. Although not quite as good, it is almost like the apple cider my mother makes this time of year."

"One day I shall have to thank your mother for teaching you to make it."

Julia continued holding the cup as Simone's hands covered hers. The warmth of her touch spread through Julia as if it were warm cider. Catching herself, she moved to set the cup back onto the table. She reached behind her to pull the wooden chair that had been her place since Simone's return closer to the bed.

BOOK: The Sea Hawk
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