Lessons of Love (37 page)

Read Lessons of Love Online

Authors: Jolynn Raymond

BOOK: Lessons of Love
3.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Gregor was sure
Cole
was back at the plantation by now. In fact he would be searching the woods and outlying areas for the woman who lay before him. Pity he wouldn

t find her. Gregor hadn

t heard anything except for one shout far off in the d
istance and that had been hours ago. He knew he had successfully thrown off his pursuers. In the morning he would follow the river to the waters of the bayou, then the bayou down to the Mississippi, stopping in some tiny unknown town along the way to secu
r
e a wagon. He

d sneak
Jolie
from his boat to the rig and whisk her off to Lily

s without anyone ever being the wiser. Once at Lily

s,
Jolie
would be tended to and it would only be a matter of a day or two before a buyer was found.
Cole
would be far too bus
y in his frantic search of New Orleans
to even think of going there.


Soon my little bitch
,
you will be the whore you were meant to be
,
and I shall be rid of you. It will bring me great pleasure to know that you will suffer every day of your life.”
 

 

Seven
teen

 

Cole
continued to search for
Jolie
night and day in an ever widening arc around the plantation and in the city of New Orleans, but it was as if she

d vanished from the face of the earth. The only time he returned home was to get a fresh horse. He n
ever rested himself, never ate, and barely spoke to anyone. His eyes were bloodshot, his clothes wrinkled and dirty, stubble covered his once smooth chin. He looked haggard and beaten, a man who

s very reason fo
r living had been stolen away.

Jonathan and
Celia pleaded with him to rest, but
Cole
refused time and again until one evening when he arrived home two days after
Jolie

s disappearance
,
and literally slid from his horse, collapsing with exhaustion. Jonathan instructed the servants to carry
Cole
to his
quarters where he managed to spoon some Laudanum between
Cole

s lips before he woke up. Jonathan knew
Cole
would be livid at being drugged, but he also knew his friend would become seriously ill if he didn

t rest.
Jolie
was gone, and
Cole

s being sick fro
m exhaustion wouldn

t bring her back. It was clear she wasn

t in the immediate area anymore, and the best thing to do was map out a strategy for finding her instead of searching aimlessly, and that couldn

t be done unless
Cole
had a clear head.

Jonathan p
ulled off
Cole

s boots and worked at removing his jacket. As he did, the letter his friend had written to
Jolie
fell from the pocket. It was as yet unopened. Whatever
Cole
had written to his wife remained unsaid between them. It was clear from the conditio
n of the envelope that
Cole
had held it tightly. The edges were crumpled, and dirt stained the once pristine paper. The thought that
Jolie
would never see
Cole

s words caused Jonathan pain. Were they words of apology and love? Poor
Jolie
had been so distre
ssed the morning of her abduction. Surely she knew even without reading the letter that
Cole
loved her.

Cole
mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep and Jonathan turned back towards him. “
It

s time to rest boss. We

ll get her back. I swear we will.
I

ve sent some men into New Orleans and the towns beyond to scour the brothels and pick up any news from the underground. Someone

s had to have heard something. A lady like
Jolie
doesn

t just disappear
,
and we both know Gregor

s too greedy to keep her forev
er. We

ll figure this out after you get some sleep. You

re no good to
Jolie
if you
run yourself into the ground.”

That said, Jonathan placed the unopened letter on the bedside table and quietly slipped out the door. He had work to do, and he had to think
on Gregor

s level to do it. Where would be the logical place for Gregor to take
Jolie
?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

Gregor flicked the reins and urged the swaybacked mule to continue its slow pace on the road to Natchez. He slumped in the wagon seat, hat pulled low,
dressed like a dirt poor peddler with a wagon full of junk. No one had stopped him or questioned him on his journey to Lily

s, and things were going exactly as planned. Well almost exactly, the fact that the little bitch hidden under the pile of rugs, cop
p
er pots, and leather goods in back was death
ly ill bothered him to no end.

He

d basically ignored her that first night in the cabin, figuring she

d wake up from the bump on her head given enough time but it hadn

t happened. Gregor didn

t know if it was th
e blow to her skull or the infection setting in from where she

d been shot that was denying him the pleasure of having a go between those silky thighs of hers, and he didn

t care. He realized his chance to take her was gone and all he wanted was to delive
r
Jolie
to
a buyer before she died.

He

d rolled her in a rug and tossed her in the bottom of his boat the morning after her abduction, following the winding stream deep into the bayou until he

d reached the Mississippi river. At the river, he

d made camp f
or the night, checking on her condition, and scowling at what he

d found. The area around the bullet was red and swollen, and turning yellow around the edges, and she was burning with fever. Her whimpering and mewling had just about driven him mad until h
e

d stuffed a cloth in her mouth to shut her up. Once she was silent, Gregor had gone at the bullet with his knife and dug it from her arm, dousing it with whisky when he was done. He

d have thought that would have woken her up, but still she denied him. O
h
she

d thrashed about and her body had become rigid, she also let loose with muffled cries behind the gag, but her eyes never opened. She never saw who was inflicting the pain
much to Gregor

s discontent.

In the end
,
he

d cleaned and bandaged the wound be
fore securely binding her arms to a tree. Regardless of what he wanted to do to
Jolie
, and how much he hated her, she was a valuable prize
,
and keeping her alive was in his best interest. In the morning they

d set off again until Gregor found a tiny settlem
ent where he bought the wagon and peddler

s things. No one had suspected there was an unconscious woman desperately in need of help rolled up inside the rug he carried about. After securing the needed things for his ruse, Gregor had moved on down the road,
pulling off to complete his disguise by tearing and dirtying his clothes, making himself
appear shabby and destitute.

Of the searchers there had been no sign. Gregor had been successful in losing them by winding through the extensive bayou. There were h
undreds of inlets from the Mississippi and it was impossible for them to search every one. Taking the back roads to Natchez had also helped him escape the hunt. With any luck,
Cole
was probably still searching around the plantation, thinking he would keep
Jolie
for h
imself, for at least a while.

Now they were a mile outside of Natchez and Gregor was filled with impatience. He couldn

t wait to sell
Jolie
at Lily

s. She was like a stone around his neck, pulling him dow
n. What was supp
osed have been his
grand
prize
,
had turned into a burden, and Gregor wanted nothing more than to get his money and be done with her before she died. It was true that her condition seemed to have improved a bit after he

d removed the bullet, but she still hadn

t woken up even after
two days and he was beginning to wonder if the blow to her head had been more serious than he

d thought. Hopefully it was just a temporary thing and he would be able to arrange a buyer for the bitch on good faith and a promise that she

d be healthy soon e
n
ough. Even if she
turned out to be a little addle
brained what did it matter as long as she did as she was told?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

Cole
awoke with a start, images of
Jolie
flashing through his head. He looked around the darkened bedchamber in confusion, not
remembering how he

d gotten there. Sitting up, he grimaced at the pounding in his head but he pushed the discomfort away. The pain was nothing compared to what he felt in his heart. She was gone. His
Jolie
was gone and it was all his fault. If he hadn

t b
een so pig headed and domineering she would have been in the wagon with him on the way to Natchez, and Gr
egor

s plan would have failed.

Cole
put his head in his hands a
nd allowed self-
pity to wash over him for a moment. He was so very tired and beaten. Hi
s body ached, his mouth was sour, and his mind was numb. How could this all have come to be when life had been so good? He

d been given a second chance at happiness and he

d thrown it away.
Cole

s eyes spotted the letter he

d written to
Jolie
on the bed st
and where Jonathan had placed it and a lump rose in his throat. She

d never even had a chance to read it.
Jolie
hadn

t read his heartfelt words of apology. Thomas had attacked her before she

d known how very sorry he was for how he

d treated her. His only
consolation was that the letter opener she

d needed for his note had been used to wound the man, otherwise Ce
lia would have been taken too.


Where are you little one and what has he done to you? I swear I

ll never give up looking for you. I

ll go to the e
nds of the earth if I have to. I

ll bring you home and treat you like the lady you are,
Jolie
, and then you

ll never doubt for
a moment how much I love you.”

Cole
rose and went to the door of the sitting room, calling for Jonathan. It was time to rethink
their plan and decide where next to focus their search. Where would be the logical place for Gregor to take
Jolie
?
Cole
believed Gregor would keep
Jolie
at his secret cabin for amusement for a time, but it wouldn

t be like him to toy with
Jolie
and then ki
ll her. The man was both greedy and evil and
Cole
was certain he would try and make a profit from
Jolie

s abduction, but where would he go to sell her? Gregor had been all over the surrounding country making numerous contacts over the years during their de
alings with the women. He could have taken
Jolie
to a hundred places to hid
e her until a buyer
was found.

Other books

Fly Away Home by Jennifer Weiner
The Hospital by Keith C. Blackmore
The Party by Katie Ashley
Prince Caspian by C. S. Lewis
The Pinhoe Egg by Diana Wynne Jones