Deceive Not My Heart (65 page)

The addition of the boy would make little difference. A note to be delivered to his mother,
after
the ship had sailed, would explain just what was expected of her,
if
she wanted to see her bastard again.

The timing would have to be precise, he decided. There was no use snatching the bratling until the very last moment, no use giving Morgan time to find them. His dear cousin would never think of coming directly to the docks, never think that he would take the child to France with him.

The ship was due to sail in three days, on Thursday with the evening tide. So the kidnapping had to be done Thursday afternoon, leaving just enough time to arrive back in New Orleans.

* * *

Tuesday found Ashley surveying the activities at Saint-Andre from a place of concealment in the encroaching wilderness that surrounded the house. He was bored most of the time; only one thing interested him, Justin. He had planned well though, bringing food, water and bedding with him, which allowed him to remain hidden and yet able to keep an eye on everyone at all times. By Thursday morning he was poised and ready to strike.

He had observed that Justin usually spent the afternoons playing in a small clearing a short distance away from the house, and Ashley had positioned himself in the underbrush, not far from that spot. His horse was tethered nearby in readiness for a swift escape and as the noonday sun rose higher in the sky, and still no sign of Justin, Ashley moved restlessly in his hiding place.

Once again he reviewed his plan, confident it had no flaws. He didn't like the fact that one of the Slade brothers, as well as a young black woman, had been with Justin the past two days, but Ashley dismissed them. The servant would prove no obstacle—they never did—and as for one of the Slades, a blow to the head, a lunge for the child, and away he would be. Then onto France and a fortune!
Who knows,
he thought,
I might even let the bitch and her whelp live, provided, they give me no trouble.
And if they did... well, he wouldn't mind being a wealthy widower.

The sound of Justin's happy laughter broke into his musings and like a snake preparing to strike he froze, his eyes riveted on the scampering figure not ten feet away. The
lone
scampering figure...

Justin had awakened early from his nap, and never stopping to think of letting anyone know he was up and around, he had dragged on his clothes and rushed outside eager to play in the warm sun. Normally a servant watched over him while he slept, but she had just slipped away for a moment to get a drink of water, never suspecting that Justin would wake during the short time she was gone.

Ashley glanced around. Good. There was no one else in sight. He knew for a fact that at least two of the Slade brothers were gone from the plantation—he'd seen one of them leaving, obviously on his way to do some hunting. And not half an hour ago, to his intense satisfaction, he'd watched Morgan ride away toward the river, which left only one Slade, the women, and the servants at the house. His wolfish grin widened and he slowly rose to his feet, lightly dusting away the twigs and moss that clung to his breeches.

Infused with a brazen confidence, he mounted his horse and rode boldly into the clearing where Justin was busily poking sticks into an abandoned rabbit burrow that had caught his attention. Hearing the rider approaching through the woods, Justin stood up and looked in that direction. And for the first few seconds he made the mistake of thinking it was Morgan who sat astride the big, black gelding.

But only for seconds, and then as he remembered the cruel smile, his stick went flying and he turned to run. "The bad man!" he cried, his legs moving as fast as they could.

The servant, Julie, appeared just then from around the corner of the house. She didn't see Ashley, her eyes fixed with relief on Justin. Scolding softly under her breath she ran quickly towards him, intending to take him back into the house.

Ashley spurred his horse into motion, intent upon his quarry. He caught Justin before the child had run more than a few feet, his powerful arm swooping down and effortlessly plucking up the little figure. Roughly flinging his squirming, kicking prey across the front of the saddle he wheeled the horse around and as they raced past the openmouthed, stunned servant, Ashley deliberately lashed out with his foot, his heel connecting solidly with the woman's head. She sank to the ground with a small whimper. Horse, rider, and captive plunged into the forest out of sight.

Julie was only stunned, and after a second, she shook her head and with uneven, jerky movements lurched to her feet. Her dark eyes wide and frightened, she stumbled towards the house screaming loudly.

People came running from several directions around the house and by the time Leonie and Robert came flying down the stairs, there was a small, agitated crowed gathered around the sobbing girl. Her face full of confusion, Julie said bewilderedly, "It was the bad Master! He kicked me and then steal our little boy."

Robert stiffened and Leonie's face went white, her heart seemed to stop beating within her breast.
Mon Dieu!
Julie's words could only mean one thing—
Ashley has kidnapped Justin!

Galvanized into action, Leonie whirled around to one of the stable hands and ordered, "Get me a horse!" And then looking at Saul, she said, "Go find Morgan—he's at the docks. Tell him Ashley has taken Justin and that I have gone after them!"

Glancing back at the weeping Julie, she said in a voice that only shook slightly, "Julie, tell me again what happened. What direction did this man take Justin?"

Between frightened gulps, Julie repeated her tale, ending with, "And then he ride away through the woods to the swamp."

Against Robert's protestations, Leonie had just swung up onto the back of a sleek, gray mare when Morgan, on Tempete, came thundering to a halt in front of her. Taking in the air of tragedy that hung over the group, and Leonie's tense, frightened expression, he demanded, "What's happened? Saul met me on my way back to the house with some garbled tale of a madman! Was it Ashley?"

The horse dancing under her light weight, Leonie cried out, "He's taken Justin!"

A terrible shaft of fear pierced his heart, but ignoring the horror that snaked through his big body, his face grim and deadly, Morgan snarled, "Which direction did he go?"

"Julie says towards the swamps."

Silently cursing for not realizing just how tenacious Ashley was, Morgan wheeled Tempete around and commanded Robert tightly, "Have Dominic found as soon as possible! He went squirrel hunting near Black Bayou. The two of you come after me—you'll be able to follow the trail I'll leave for you."

"I'm going with you!" Leonie stated fiercely, her face set and determined.

He threw her a harassed glance, but he didn't dare waste the time arguing with her. "Very well," he said curtly and dug his heels into Tempete's silken hide. With a snort the blood-bay stallion bounded forward, Leonie's mare hot behind him.

They found the trail with little effort, the mad dash of Ashley's horse through the tangled forest evident from the snapped and broken limbs and the wild disturbance of the matted forest floor. There were few words between Leonie and Morgan as they rode swiftly deeper into the tropical undergrowth, each one too busy struggling against their own particular demons.

Numb disbelief had fallen over Leonie, her brain unwilling to let the terror that lurked just under the surface of her thoughts come exploding through. She knew Ashley had her son, knew they must find him soon, but beyond that there was nothing but a blessed, emotionless void.

Leonie had a mother's fear for her child's survival, but Morgan had to face not only the horror of what Ashley might do to a child he had come to love as his own, but the terrible memory of Phillippe's death. It was his most terrifying nightmare come true, an icy, dreadful feeling of déjà vu riding with him every step of the way. Every twist, every curve in the winding, zigzagging trail brought back that awful memory of his desperate, futile chase after Phillippe, and somewhere along this frightening ride Justin and Phillippe merged into one being.

The forest seemed to close in on them, the tangled, verdant growth nearly suffocating with its presence. As they rode deeper into the wilderness, the forest gradually gave way to a swampy, marshy area. Creepers and vines hung snakelike through the branches of the cypress and tupelo trees and ferns and palmettos created a smothering corridor through which they traveled. The farther they rode, the more swamplike the area became, and finally, Morgan pulled up his horse and glanced around with a frown.

"Ashley must be lost," he said flatly. "The trail is too erratic."

Her face damp with perspiration, her green eyes huge with apprehension, Leonie asked, "Will we catch him?"

Morgan smiled mirthlessly. "Oh, yes, we'll catch him! If he keeps traveling in this direction, he's going to end up at the edge of the big swamp and there's no way he's going to get his horse through that." He reached up and bent a small branch. Tying a strip of material torn from his once elegant cravat around the branch, he muttered, "That should keep Robert and Dominic on our trail."

He glanced back at Leonie, taking in the now ripped and stained green gown that she wore, noting her rigid control. Turning his head to stare at the luxuriant jungle that greeted his gaze, he hesitated.

There was no way of knowing what was going to happen when he finally faced Ashley, but he knew that they had gone beyond those differences that could be settled rationally. He was too aware of the fury and hatred that now coiled and clawed up through his body, needing, demanding release, to act logically. He knew also that Ashley had passed over the threshold of civilized behavior and that when they met there would be bloodshed.

Not looking at Leonie, he said evenly, "I want you to wait here for Robert and Dominic."

"Non!"
Leonie spat, her eyes gleaming yellow-green like a cat's. "He has my
son,
Morgan!"

Seeing the determination in her face, he swore under his breath. "Listen to me, Leonie! Ashley is going to be dangerous and, and—" He couldn't tell her that her son might already be dead—or that he might die before their eyes. Even thinking it made his body tremble with denial, but the horror of his nightmare wouldn't go away; this time there was no thankful awakening.

Leonie sensed what he was thinking, and moving her horse up beside his, she reached out and touched his arm gently. Her own fear was evident and her voice shook as she said, "I know what you are trying to spare me. But wouldn't it be better if we faced it together?" Tears shining in her eyes, she murmured, "You once said we could overcome anything together. Please, let us confront whatever may lie at the end of this trail together... whatever it may be."

Chapter 32

They found Ashley's wind-broken, lamed horse not twenty minutes later. And just a few hundred yards beyond his abandoned mount they found Ashley and Justin standing uncertainly on a narrow spit of land formed by the merging of two bayous.

Ashley had been lost from the moment his horse raced away from the Chateau Saint-Andre. Unfamiliar with the terrain, used to the open, gentle landscape of England and France, he had been positive as time passed and his horse had continued to plunge ahead, that at any moment they would break free of the endless jungle. But they hadn't, and as minutes went by and nothing but more and more tangled undergrowth met his gaze, he grew frustrated and uneasy.

Justin hadn't helped his state of mind either. His incessant wiggling, the small fists flying out indiscriminately, and his wild kicking had made him nearly impossible to control. He was also very vocal. "You put me down! You're a
bad
man! I hate you!
Put me down!"

Ashley's temper exacerbated by such antics, he had considered slitting the brat's throat. But as finding their way out of this wretched wilderness was his first priority, he had contented himself with giving Justin a shaking and a vicious blow across his small face. "Shut up!" he had snarled. "Open your mouth again, and I'll beat you until you're half-dead."

That silenced Justin for a while, but soon enough, he was back at it, muttering dire threats under his breath and squirming in Ashley's grip. Ashley shook him again and again during their twisting course through the woods, but it didn't do much good.

Lost, saddled with an imp of Satan, Ashley was growing desperate, and when the horse went lame, he cursed long and venomously. Justin regarded him cheerfully, saying with relish, "My papa will find us now! You'll see, he won't let you keep me."