A Midnight Dance (9 page)

She had to do something. Fast. She broke through the circle of men.

“This is completely unnecessary!” she protested. “Put down the sword.”

“S-um-Elise?” Robert spoke up. His eyes were round with fright. “Wh-What did you tell him?” His terror was torturous.

With a knot in her throat, she had to swallow before she could speak. “I told him everything.” In her rattled state, she’d completely mishandled it all.

“E-Everything?” Robert asked, alarmed.

“Commander?” Raymond approached. “What is amiss?”

“We have criminals in our midst,” Jules growled.

“Criminals?” Raymond gave her cousins a sweeping glance. “These half-starved boys and this woman?”

“They came armed, Raymond.” Jules leaned closer to Gerard. “Why don’t you tell us about
the wine
?”

Gerard stared straight ahead, his eyes were cold and angry.

“I’ve already told you about the wine,
and
about our plan to steal some coin,” Sabine interjected. “What more do you need to know?”

“You
what
?” Robert choked out.

“Mademoiselle, you’ll not speak another word,” Jules decreed. “Do you understand!”

“You wish me to remain silent and watch you terrorize these helpless boys?” she shot back.

“Helpless boys? I think
thieves
best describes what they are. And I intend to find out how much of a liar
you are
. You either remain silent, or you will be removed from this conversation entirely.” Jules tossed Raymond a look.

Raymond grasped her elbow. She yelped in surprise when he yanked her away from Jules’s side.

“Don’t!” Gerard cried out to Raymond, but Jules pressed the blade firmer against his throat.

“You are the one who bargained her,” Jules said to Gerard. “And you’re going to answer my questions. Is that clear?” Each word was firmly dealt, dripping with implied threat.

Gerard shot Jules a murderous glare.

“ANSWER!” Jules bellowed. She jumped.

“Yessss,” Gerard hissed out from between clenched teeth, never breaking his hate-filled gaze.

A muscle twitched in Gerard’s cheek. He curled his hand into a fist as though he were going to lay a blow. For the love of God, he had a sword to his throat! What was he thinking? They were unarmed, outnumbered, and Gerard was facing a man who was considerably larger, not to mention highly skilled in swords and pistols.

“How well do you know this woman?” Jules asked.

The questioning had begun. Her heart rapped violently against her ribs. She prayed her cousin would answer Jules’s questions to his satisfaction and not do anything foolish for the sake of her honor.

“Not well at all, it would seem.” Gerard’s anger simmered in his words. “For I cannot imagine why she would tell
you
anything.”

“Careful with your words and your tone,” Jules warned. “When did you meet Elise?”

Dear God. She couldn’t believe her ears. Jules’s choice of words was perfect! She yanked her arm free from Raymond’s grasp.

“Answer his question
precisely
now. Everything will be all right,” she told Gerard, hoping he would understand her meaning, for if he answered how long he’d known
Elise
, all
would
be all right.

Gerard looked at her and swallowed. A bead of sweat appeared on his brow. “I . . . I met Elise . . . today.”

“Why did you try to steal from
us
?”

“Why not?”

“Did you know she was an innocent?”

Gerard clenched his teeth. “
Was
? As in,
no longer
?”

“Answer the question!”

“I told you, I only met her today.”

“And you didn’t know she was a
virgin
? You couldn’t tell?”

Gerard glared at Jules. “Could
you
?”

A fresh wave of hot rage shot through Jules. He tightened his jaw and pressed the blade of his sword against the young man’s throat in a way that forced him up onto the balls of his feet.

“Are you trying to provoke me?” Jules snarled, every fiber of his being fiercely urging him to vent his rage. Why
should
he restrain it?

Why should he show any mercy to someone who wanted to deceive and rob him?

“Stop!” Elise ran and faced him. “No more!”

The look of fright in her eyes sent a sobering jolt through him.

It was then he noticed the younger one had tears streaming down his cheeks, quietly praying, and the one before him, despite his best efforts to hide it, visibly shook.

Jésus-Christ
, what was he doing?

He’d never raised a weapon outside of battle, and couldn’t remember ever losing his temper before five years ago.

Now, any sort of duplicity sent him into a full fury.

The two young males before him were nothing more than—as Raymond had described—half-starved boys.

Having to resort to doing the unimaginable in order to survive.

Lord knows he’d had to do the same. While he was nothing more than a
commoner
—his stomach clenched—he’d been forced to resort to, God help him,
privateering
for his country rather than serving his nation in the King’s distinguished Navy. The only thing that got him through each miserable day was his dream of returning honor to his family’s name, reclaiming his life, and exacting revenge on those who’d had a hand in stealing so much from him.

His dream rested in the captured Spanish silver in the carts nearby. He was overly protective of it.

He was overly sensitive to trickery.

His gaze returned to Elise. She watched him warily.

“Has he not answered your questions to your satisfaction?” she asked. “Have we not proven we’ve nothing left to hide?”

Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly, then lowered his sword. “Martin. Xavier.”

The two men approached.

“Take the flagons of wine off their cart.”

With a nod, the men walked away to do his bidding.

The two young men before him were watching him, leery, waiting for his next order.

“Are—Are we free to go?” the younger one asked.

“In a moment,” Jules advised. “The wine stays here.”

The two boys glanced over at Martin and Xavier as they removed the wine from their cart.

“Oh, of course. You keep it!” the younger one offered, sounding relieved. He wiped his tears off his cheeks with a quick swipe of his hand. “And thank you. Thank you for not killing us.” He gave him a nervous smile.

The older simply looked down at his feet.

Jules squeezed the hilt of his sword. He wanted silence while he wrestled down the emotions still simmering inside him. If anyone had attempted thievery on board one of his ships, the punishment would have been severe. But they were not part of his crew. Even so, that didn’t mean he could simply let this go.

His eyes were drawn back to Elise. She watched the men unloading her cart. Even in her disheveled state there was no denying it—she was beautiful.
Three days and two nights in her company
. . . Should he agree? His body roared, “YES!”
Merde
. His knees were still weak from the intensity of his orgasm.

He couldn’t believe he’d had such incredible sex with this sexual novice. Having an inexperienced woman had never appealed to him before. The only virgin he’d expected ever to have was his wife—one day, after he’d regained his nobility and could marry in the class of his birth. The woman who would give him heirs, and would have the title “Marquise de Blainville,” and the esteem that would come with it.

Elise met his gaze and returned it, unflinching. The urge to reach out and pull her near was as powerful as his urge to initiate her into further carnal delights. She was so genuinely sensual and passionate.

And someone who’d attempted to deceive you
.

His decision to take her to Maillard would be dependent on the wine.

Jules tore his eyes away from her and cast his gaze at his own covered carts nearby.
Jésus-Christ
. If she’d succeeded with her plan, she’d have discovered the wealth he had at hand.

“Commander, the wine has been removed,” Martin advised.

Glancing at the thwarted thieves, he sensed their apprehension. She’d said the wine was drugged. What if it had been indeed poisoned? What if the plan had been to kill them all? Desperate people resorted to desperate measures. He couldn’t allow his lust to cloud his thinking.

That’s what had landed him in this mess to begin with.

He didn’t want to believe she’d be a part of such a heinous scheme. But he wouldn’t just let them walk away without knowing for certain just how dark a deed they’d plotted.

“You are free to go,” he said, noting the instant relief on their faces, “
after
one of you drinks a goblet of your wine. Raymond, pour their burgundy.”

Raymond stepped forward. Stooping, he picked up one of the fallen wineskins and a wooden goblet from the ground.

A stillness fell upon the camp, the crackling of the fire mingling with the sound of pouring wine. The tension from the young men and Elise was palpable.

Raymond held out a full goblet.

“Well?” Jules asked. “Which of you will volunteer?”

The three would-be thieves looked among themselves.

“I will,” Elise announced and reached out her hand.

Jules’s heart lurched. He caught her wrist, stopping her from grasping the goblet. “No. Not you.” Deep inside, he was immensely pleased. She wouldn’t have been willing to drink the wine if she knew it was poisoned. She’d told him the truth.

He believed her story.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because they might have lied to you and purchased poisonous powder instead.”

She frowned. “That’s nonsense. The wine is drugged. Not poisoned. I believe them.”

“I don’t. It will have to be one of them who drinks it.”

He was keenly aware of her wrist in his hand, and fought back the impulse to caress the inside of her wrist in light, sensuous circles with his thumb. Touching her inspired a number of salacious thoughts, all of which involved leading her back to their secluded spot, stripping off her clothing, and taking her slowly.

Jules released her wrist and focused on the two males before him. “My patience is thinning,” he warned.

They exchanged looks once more. Then the younger, a lanky boy with dark hair and eyes, stepped forward, clearly surprising the others, and took the goblet from Raymond’s hand.

“I will drink it,” he said and took a sip. “There. You see? It’s not poisoned.” He smiled.

Jules tamped down his annoyance with the cheeky youth. “What is your name?”

“Robert, sir.”

“Well, Robert, that’s not enough.
Down all of it
.”

“Is that really necessary?” Elise asked. “If he’d poisoned it, would he have offered to drink it?”

“I’m willing to be lenient about petty theft. But not about attempted
mass
murder. If he is willing to drink the entire goblet, then they are free to go.”

Jules leveled Robert with the full weight of his regard. “Finish it.”

Robert cast his accomplices an uneasy look. “If I drink it all, I’ll simply fall asleep, correct?”

“Yes, you’ll wake up in a few hours,” the other male said.

Elise nodded. “You’ll be fine, Robert.”

Appearing assured, his smile returned. He lifted his goblet. “Well then, here’s to all of you, and to a good night’s rest.” He downed the wine.

Jules waited and watched for any ill-effects. Silent moments slipped by. He looked at Raymond. Raymond simply raised a brow.

“Go,” Jules ordered the young men, satisfied, wanting them out of his sight. “If I ever catch you near my camp again, you’ll rue the day.”

“We won’t ever bother you again,” Robert promised and walked toward their cart, still moving with a normal gait.

Jules gave his men a nod, dismissing them. They began to disperse, resuming their previous activities, but Raymond remained by his side.

It was then Jules noticed that the older male thief was still fixed to his spot. With a defiant tilt of his head, he glared at Jules.

Jules stabbed the tip of his sword into the earth between his boots and held the hilt with both hands. He narrowed his eyes. “You have something you wish to say to me?”

“Yes. I do,” he said. “I
will
see you again.”

Jules could feel ire prickling his skin, growing rapidly irritated by the young man’s insolence and his stupidity. “Oh? Where?”

“In hell.”

“Gerard!” Elise exclaimed.

Jules pulled his sword out of the ground. Gripping the hilt fiercely in his right hand, he took a step toward the brash youth. “And what makes you think you’ll see
me
there?”