Authors: Shirlee Busbee
"Bah!
Who cares? I'm armed, I have a pistol in my pocket. I'll think of
something," she said with more confidence than she felt. Yet at the same
time Allen's being so near made her feel certain that their luck was changing.
Leaning her back against the bricks of his prison and watching for signs of
discovery, she called up to him, "Who has the keys? Do you have a
guard?"
"No.
The only guard is old Manuel, and he's in the room at the front. He has the
keys to the cell, Nick, but I'm afraid it's Saber who possesses the key that
will unlock my chains." Allen's voice was bleak.
Damn
the man! Was he infallible? The full import of Allen's words sunk in.
Saber
was here!
Her whole body stiffened with apprehension. After the first shock
subsided she willed herself not to be terrorized. Saber was only a man, not the
devil he resembled. He
did
make mistakes —her being here was proof of
that. Even so, it was with increased suspense that her eyes pierced the
darkness. The thought of Saber standing hidden in the night and watching her
was unnerving, but she discarded it with a stubborn shake of her head. She
wasn't a namby-pamby creature to jump at shadows.
"Are
you certain, Allen? Wouldn't the keys stay with the old man?"
Allen
frowned. Slowly he said, "You could be right, Nick." It was true, a
separate key had been used to lock his chains, but there was no reason to
believe it had not been added to the ring of keys that were hung in the jail's
main room. He had assumed Saber would keep it. Yet Nick's query made more sense
and he knew Saber had not planned on Nick escaping. He smiled grimly. Saber had
underestimated young Nick rather badly.
Still
smiling faintly, he said, "There's one way to find out, Nick. You'll have
to get the keys from old Manuel. Can you do it?"
Nicole's
jaw jutted in a stubborn line. She'd get those damned keys if it killed her!
Optimistically she whispered, "Don't worry, if worse comes to worse, I shall
shoot off the chains. Give me a moment, I shall think of something." And
she did. Boldness had served her purpose in fleeing Saber, and if it had worked
once, it would work again.
Discipline
was lax on the island, and old Manuel's position as jailer was merely for
appearances and because it gave him something to do. The few times the jail was
actually used, it was common for the prisoners to have their cronies come to
commiserate with them. It was not uncommon for old Manuel to hand the visitor
the keys and let them show themselves in and out. No one had ever taken
advantage of that laxity, mainly because while the prisoners might grumble,
they were in awe of Lafitte. Jean was fair, and they knew better than to cross
him.
From
her visits to Grand Terre as a member of Saber's crew, Nicole knew that
discipline was almost nonexistent. She walked calmly to the front of the
calaboose and entered. She was uneasily aware that the old Spaniard might have
been warned to watch out for her, but she thrust those cowardly thoughts aside
and spoke boldly. "I've come to see Allen Ballard from
La Belle
Garce,"
she said crisply. "Where is he?"
The
old man, sleepy from his nightly rum, waved a hand vaguely in the direction of
the keys. "Help yourself. He's in the last cell on the left."
Her
blood pounding like thunder in her temples, Nicole took down the keys, her
fingers trembling with the elation of success. As nonchalantly as possible she
walked down the narrow hall to Allen's cell and fumbled through the keys,
trying to find the one that would open the door. Her hands were shaking so
badly that she wasted precious seconds before at last the door swung wide. With
her heart leaping in her breast, she ran to Allen. For a long moment they stood
staring at one another, and then with a cry of distress at his haggard and
bruised appearance, Nicole threw herself on his chest, her arms hugging him
tightly. "Oh, Allen, your poor face. What has he done to you? Was it very
bad?"
Allen
gave her a warm smile and whispered into the soft hair that brushed his lips,
"It's nothing, Nick. And now that you are here, everything will be
fine."
Nicole
hugged him again, her eyes swimming with tears of emotion; as naturally as a
sister bestowing a kiss on a beloved brother, she pressed her lips sweetly to
his. Unfortunately, to the tall bearded man who suddenly materialized in the
open doorway, it had all the appearances of lovers reunited. His lips drew back
in a growl of outrage and bright yellow fire gleamed in the gold eyes.
"Touching!"
Saber snarled.
Nicole
and Allen both froze. Her hand clutching the pistol in her pocket, Nicole
whirled to face Saber, who loomed just inside the doorway, his feet spread
apart and his bearded face very black in the dim light.
Allen
sensed her intent and entreated, "Don't, Nick! The sound of a shot will
bring a crowd. You won't be able to escape."
Sarcastically
Saber murmured, "Are you sure you don't mean she wouldn't have time to
free you!"
Allen
threw Saber an angry glance, but it was Nicole who snapped, "Shut up,
Saber! Or I
will
shoot you."
Mockingly
he bowed. "Your wish, madame, at the moment, shall be my most fervent
desire."
Eyeing
him wrathfully, Nicole kept the pistol aimed at his heart and commanded,
"Step over there, against the wall."
His
mouth twitching with what could have been anger or, disconcertingly, amusement,
Saber complied. With a bored expression on his face, he asked casually,
"Do you intend to chain me like the good Allen?"
A
curt nod was his answer. Nicole approached him cautiously. Saber's docile air
didn't deceive her at all. Keeping the pistol on him with one hand, while she
attempted to chain him with the other, was going to be awkward. She scowled at
Saber and then cast a hopeful look at Allen. It would be wiser to free Allen
first, then the two of them would have him at their mercy. But to Nicole's
dismay none of the keys fit the locks of Allen's chains.
"If
you had only asked, my dear, I could have saved you the trouble," Saber
said smoothly. "The key you want is reposing on the bureau in my room at
Lafitte's." She glowered at Saber as he lounged carelessly against the
wall, apparently completely at ease.
"Be
quiet!" she muttered tightly as she walked toward him. There was only one
solution. She must chain Saber herself and then shoot Allen free. They would
have to move quickly after that to escape the curious mob that would surely
gather. It was not what she would have wished, but it seemed to be their only
chance.
Standing
in front of Saber, she said softly, "If you make one move that is not to
my liking, I shall shoot you dead. Do you understand me?"
Watching
her closely, Saber nodded his head slowly, his eyes, hard and speculative,
locked on her white, determined face.
"Put
your left wrist in the shackle directly above it," Nicole commanded.
"Do it carefully, Saber, and remember that I would enjoy killing
you."
But
Saber only crossed his arms over his chest and said coolly, "I have no
intention of doing anything so damned silly. Go ahead and shoot—if you
dare!"
Nearly
stuttering with rage, she shouted, "G-g-goddamn y-you, Saber, do as I tell
you!"
"No,"
he replied calmly, unmoved by her actions.
Observing
Nicole's face, Allen warned anxiously, "Be careful, Nick. He's
deliberately goading you."
With
an effort Nicole attempted to swallow her rage. But it was useless, the flame
in her hair spoke of a truly ungovernable temper, and seeing her enemy before
her, mocking her dilemma, she suddenly lost all caution. Storming at him, she
dragged furiously at the arms that were folded over his chest and cried,
"You
will
do as I say—even if I have to force you myself!"
Forgetting her injury, she raised the pistol and struck him a vicious blow
across one cheek.
A
moan of pain came from her as her injured wrist betrayed her, but it quickly
became a scream of fury as Saber exploded into action. Snaking both arms around
her, he trapped her in a less-than-gentle embrace. Allen surged helplessly
against his chains as they struggled in front of him, while with horror Nicole
felt the pistol slip from her agonized grasp. She was caught like a vixen in a
snare and she knew it. Her chest was pressed tightly to Saber's and his arms
crushed her. Pride forbade that she beg and common sense told her it was
useless to waste her strength. Damnable,
damnable
temper, she thought
with self-disgust. Why had she let it possess her to the point of near
insanity? Closing her eyes in contempt of her own foolish actions, she cursed
herself for being the hotheaded nitwit she was.
"Do
we cry quits, Nick?" Saber asked quietly.
Her
eyes flew open; hating him and trying for some of his own arrogant coolness,
she drawled, "You're asking me? How odd! In the past you've always
commanded."
Smiling
down into her upturned face, he was surprised to feel something next to
admiration for her. With wry amusement he said, "What a little cocklebur
you are! Do you never stay where you are put?"
Not
deigning to answer him, Nicole stared mutely at the hard mouth above her. She
wasn't about to cross verbal swords with him.
"Saber,
hear me," Allen demanded from across the room. "You wouldn't listen
earlier, but you must see that it is only just that you return Nicole to her
family. Take her to New Orleans and place her on the first ship that sails for
Jamaica—from there she can easily find passage to England. I have the money to
pay for it, as well as enough to hire a woman to act as companion to her. What
differences lie between you and me are between you and me. She has nothing to
do with it. I beg of you, man, let her go!"
Saber's
face went icy, the gold eyes staring with dislike at the chained man. "Let
her go! Have your wits gone gathering? Why should I? What would I gain by
it?"
Allen's
own face was tight, the flesh stretched thin over his handsome features as his
mind worked frantically on some inducement that would appeal to the man. He had
nothing to offer and appealing to Saber's better nature was useless—Saber had
no better nature!
Nicole
herself put an end to the waiting uncertainty. "Don't plead for me,
Allen," she said softly. "What is done is done. It was none of your
doing." She tossed her head back defiantly and added, "I shall make
my own future and it won't be one that was bargained for with the likes of
Saber." She glared up at her captor, despising him with her eyes.
Saber
grinned at her and murmured, "You think not?" Flicking a taunting
glance at Allen, he drew Nicole closer to him, and bending his head, he trapped
her unsuspecting lips with his own. As if aware of the sick rage that filled
the other man, he kissed Nicole deeply, his mouth seeking the sweetness from
between her lips.
Nicole
made no resistance to his searching mouth, surmising that he was doing it to
torment Allen and to remind her of how completely she was his. The kiss gave
her no pleasure—she endured it, and when it was over a shudder of relief shook
her.
Saber
frowned at her reaction, but released her with a careless shrug. Picking up the
dropped pistol, he tucked it securely in the wide leather belt at his waist.
Turning to Nicole, he searched her thoroughly, his hands purposefully lingering
on her breasts and thighs, caressing her openly. Humiliated to the core of her
being at such obvious intimacy in front of Allen, diamond-bright tears sparkled
in the depths of her eyes. Saber's movements were not without reason. He was
driving it home to Allen in the cruelest way possible that Nicole was
his.
The
picture of Nicole kissing Allen was etched in acid on Saber's brain, and its
memory made him want to take her now on the filthy floor of the cell in front
of the other man. As if by possessing her before him, he could prove his
ownership, like a small boy taunting, "See, she's
mine!"
But
when he glanced at Nicole's rigid face, the feeling left him, and for the first
time in half his lifetime, he let consideration for another human being sway
him from his own desires. The sight of her face, with her emotions so clearly
defined, made the thought of further degradation insupportable.
Without
a word he pocketed the knife he found, as well as the gold coins and the
jewelry. One hand clasping her arm, he guided her in the direction of the cell
door. Reluctantly she obeyed the commanding pressure on her arm. It was so
reminiscent of the scene of yesterday morning on
La Belle Garce
that a
ripple of mirthless laughter broke from her.
"No,
I'm not about ready to dissolve into frenzied weeping," she said as he
glanced at her sharply. "I merely found it amusing that this is the second
time in as many days that you have managed to gain the upper hand."
A
glimmer of sardonic amusement in his gaze, he murmured, "You
are
rather
stubborn. You seem to have the ridiculous idea that you can outmaneuver me. For
shame, young Nick, you should know better!"
Incensed,
she opened her mouth to join battle, but then recollecting past arguments, she
turned away.