Love's Vengeance (53 page)

“Do you expect to see Captain Colter again?” Rene’ asked, adjusting his position on the seat so he could lean back against the side of the carriage facing Desiree and Antoine.

“No I do not.” Desiree shook her head as she wiped her nose with a handkerchief, “He hates me.” She continued miserably.

“And what of this pirate Greaves? What will he do when he returns to find you have gone?” Antoine interjected and Desiree turned to look at him.

“I don’t know what he will do.”

“Will he come here to bring you the news?”

“I don’t believe so—he is a wanted man by some countries. I doubt he would travel inland. It could be dangerous for him.”

“Well assuming he will not come, we are going to need to see about guards to protect you at once. We shall need to possibly send someone to Somerset or Nevis to try and obtain news if it does not make its way to you here.” Rene’ decided.

Antoine nodded, “Until we have answers; we will need you to have guards on the grounds and at the house—someone with you at all times. Julien and Jacques Monet are hardly deterrents.”

“But there are stable hands—drivers. I am sure I shall be just fine.” Desiree said clasping Antoine’s arm and looking from the window. “Oh the lake! We are almost there!” she squealed, grabbing Rene’ and shaking both their arms, “I would love to go for a swim!”

“You shall not!” they both barked in unison and Desiree giggled at their stern expressions. She knew the water would be freezing. They were in the midst of a January thaw and the air was almost as warm as a spring day but soon, snow and the cold would be upon them once more.

“I haven’t heard a word of what you two have done since my departure.” She said, changing the subject, “Have you started on your house Antoine?”

“Not yet. I was planning to begin in the next month. I think you shall be pleased with your home. It is almost as before—look.” He pointed out the window and across the lake.

The house loomed large beside the water and she was pleased to see it was identical to what it had been. The large dormers on the second floor and the steep sloping roof that gave it a fairytale quality were there, the stone front and the sweeping veranda were all as she remembered, “It looks beautiful.” She sighed happily.

“You should have witnessed
Monsieur
Monet’s ire when a change was suggested. He wanted it just so, for you. He wouldn’t settle for anything less.” Antoine chuckled.

“I am anxious to see him—and Mary and everyone but most of all I wanted to see you…” she gasped, “Oh what about Philippe? What shall I say to him?” She covered her mouth with her hand in dread. Philippe had always been so innocent and shy. What would he think of the things she had been through and her present condition?

Antoine laughed, reading her mind, “Desiree my love, he will take it just fine. He has grown up a lot this last year in your absence, close to eighteen now and not quite innocent.” He winked suggestively.

Rene’ chuckled, “He is doing well for himself Desiree. He owns his sloop now and is making a good living transporting cargo. He even bought a parcel of land from Francois Roche’, north of the lake. It’s not much but he will soon be able to build his home there.”

“I always knew he would make his own way.” Desiree smiled happily.

“You should see the girls after him now! They can’t get enough of him.” Rene’ growled, “Grown into quite a ladies man.”

Antoine laughed at Desiree’s surprised expression and kissed her cheek, “So don’t worry about Philippe. He will handle news of this little fellow just fine.”

“What of you two? Is marriage on the horizon—anyone special?”

“Not for me.” Antoine piped up, “I am too young to marry. I have more wild oats to sow and I am enjoying every minute of it.”

“What of you Rene’?” Desiree asked with a mischievous grin, in silent communication.

“I am ready to marry.” He narrowed his eyes, “Are you ready to marry me?”

Desiree giggled and Antoine shot straight up in his seat, gaping at him.

“That is not funny!” Antoine rebuked him, “Especially with Desiree in this condition! What if she were to take you seriously?”

“Then I would marry her.” Rene’ chuckled, enjoying the purple hue of Antoine’s face.

“You listen to me
Monsieur
Vermillion!” Antoine roared, jabbing a finger toward Rene’, “You stay away from her! You so much as lay a finger on Desiree and I shall beat you to within an inch of your life!”

“Ha! I doubt you could accomplish that!” Rene’ returned and his voice rose to match Antoine’s.

Antoine glared evilly at Rene’ while Desiree sat small and quiet between the two, watching the scene. It was true, she thought, the two were fairly equal in size, both tall and lean and she doubted one could best the other. Antoine made no remark for a moment, and then he chuckled in amusement.

“Perhaps not but Honore’ could surely accomplish it!” he laughed and Rene’ joined him—the tense moment overcome.

“So true!” Rene’ laughed, “Fear not Antoine I have guarded her honor for the last eighteen years and I shall continue, just as you will.”

“I can’t tolerate the way you speak of me as if some prized mare—besides which my honor is a tad tarnished—wouldn’t you say?” Desiree asked softly, not really expecting a reply.

“Don’t talk like that Desiree.” Rene’ sobered, “You made a mistake; an error in judgment.”

“
Oui
—a mistake to be sure.” Desiree whispered.

***

Desiree had no idea her home coming would be so emotional or tearful. She was not sure what she had expected but she hadn’t thought of the tears Mary would shed, the outrage Jacques Monet would display or that she would be interrogated as soon as she entered her home.

She sat upon a sofa in the drawing room, near what had once been the door to her father’s study. She felt not quite comfortable with her new surroundings. Although the floor plan was identical, the furnishings were new and she felt out of place. She sat beside Bridgett and could have been standing trial, with the solemn expressions of the people gathered before her; as she related the details of her voyage for the third time; this time for the Roche’s and Philippe. Antoine had left shortly after their arrival and alerted the Roche’s of her presence and they had come straight away.

Philippe stood near the French doors, gazing at her with a pained expression as she told of her ordeal. Rene’ sat with a drink in his hand, smiling when she would look to him for encouragement. Mary sat beside a very calm Madeleine Roche’ weeping and shaking her head with a kerchief in her hand and her hand over her mouth. Francois Roche’ and Jacques Monet stood before her, conducting the interrogation.

“And you say this pirate, he has no idea who was behind this scheme?” Jacques asked, pacing before Desiree.

“No.” Desiree sighed, “He was paid through Mac, who was paid through another and another before that. But he has vowed to find him or them; and I have his word on that.”

“This other man—Kirwood—where is he?” Francois joined the questioning.

“He is imprisoned by now but he knows nothing except that it was a Frenchman that hired him.”

“This is ludicrous!” Jacques stormed, “And this Colter, what of him?”

Desiree lowered her eyes and Bridgett patted her hand.

“That is between Desiree and Captain Colter but needless to say, they had irreconcilable differences.” Bridgett stated softly.

“Did he refuse to take responsibility?” Francois asked from the sideboard, where he poured and then emptied a healthy drink of fine brandy.

“No he did not refuse. He is unaware of the child.” Desiree said quietly.

“Well—perhaps we shall see about informing him and have you properly wed!” Jacques nodded curtly, looking to Francois for his affirmation.

Desiree stood from her seat abruptly, “No!” she shouted, and then her eyes swept the room, taking in the surprised expressions of the people about her. She burst into tears, unable to take any more talk of Stephen or the plans they were considering, “This is my concern! No one else’s! I will not allow that! He shall not be told. I simply will not allow it!” Her voice broke and she dashed from the room and up the stairs with Bridgett hurrying after her, while the rest sobered, looking at one another in shock.

Rene’ emptied his drink, setting the glass down sharply and rose, jamming his hands into his coat pockets as he looked to each of the others in the room, “It seems clear to me that Desiree has been through enough! I would like to suggest this be dropped now. She is home—safe and needs all our support!” He nodded curtly at Jacques and Francois and left the room and then exited the house.

“I must agree with Rene’.” Francois sighed, taking his wife’s hand and assisting her from her seat, “Mary we shall come around after she has had time to settle in. Philippe, let’s be going.”

The three departed and Mary wiped her eyes, rising to go about her duties. Jacques Monet stood alone in the room for a moment and then with a shake of his head, walked into the study to do some work before the afternoon was gone.

Chapter Forty-Four

A brutal north wind cut into Timothy Colter as he trudged through the slush along the waterfront making his way to the
Windward
. The New Year had come and gone; it was early February and Mother Nature was dealing out her worst upon the Northern Hemisphere.

He pulled the heavy woolen coat close about his neck and jumped onto the icy main deck of the
Windward
, “What the hell is going on?” he barked at Davison who was leaning against the far rail enjoying a pipe.

“Timmy!” Davison shouted, coming to his full height, “Never have I been so glad to see someone in my life—Ham!” he bellowed, “Tim is here!”

Ham appeared from the forward hold and Tim raised a brow in question, “Where is Stephen, Ham?”

The crew gathered around and Ham rubbed his bristled jaw, “He’s in the Jamestown jail Timmy. I was just going to see what might be done about selling some cargo on the market to raise enough to spring him.”

“What did he do?” Tim asked in amazement, looking about the group of men. Some chuckled, while others only shook their heads.

Ham spoke up, “He got into a brawl, only this time he nearly destroyed a common room up the docks single-handedly. It will take three hundred pounds to have him released.”

“Three-hundred pounds!” Tim choked, “But Ham what about the strongbox?”

Ham shook his head, “Less than fifty pounds.”

Tim rubbed across his face wearily with both hands,” I’ll take care of it. Which way to the jail?” he sighed.

Ham pointed off the bow, “Past the center square and around back of the merchant shops.” He looked at the men gathered in a cluster about them, then gestured to Tim, “Could I have a word with you alone?”

Tim accompanied him to the bow away from the crew and Ham spoke softly, his expression concerned, “Timmy I am very worried about Stephen. He has done nothing but drink and brawl his way from England to here. He’s changed Timmy. I have never seen him like this before. Christ—we would have made record time leaving here until he got hauled in. We have been sitting here for three days now, wondering what to do. It isn’t like him to be so reckless, at least not enough to interfere with business. I can’t get through to him, maybe you can.”

“I’ve heard of his exploits Ham—that’s all I’ve heard. I can try to talk with him but I don’t know what good that will do. If you can’t get through to him—I doubt I will be able. Thanks for telling me though and I should have him out soon.”

“Thanks Timmy.” Ham said with a handshake.

***

Tim walked along the street toward the jail, deep in thought. If Ham was worried, Stephen must surely be in bad shape. Ham and he had always shared a very close relationship, almost like father and son, ever since the deaths of Dan and Will. For years they had been inseparable. Ham had sailed with Stephen every voyage, since that time. He had always been Stephen’s confidant. If Stephen wouldn’t talk to him, he must be in a terrible state; and he had a good idea what it was about—Desiree. Stephen had left port the day after Desiree and Tim knew he was going back to sea to forget but it looked as though that had backfired.

***

Stephen stood from the low pallet when the key turned and the heavy bar slid back.

“Okay Colter, let’s go.” The guard ordered brusquely.

Stephen stepped from the cell and Tim glared at him from across the dim, dusty floored main room.

“Tim, am I glad to see you!” Stephen sighed. He received no similar response, only an icy perusal that at least matched the wintry cold outside. He knew he looked a sight. His clothes were in tatters from the brawl, a full beard covered his jaw and he was in definite need of a bath. He chuckled as Tim took in his appearance.

“You are free to go” the guard grunted, handing Stephen his great coat and taking his seat at the tall desk.

Stephen donned his coat and preceded Tim out the door, flinching as the bright sunlight assaulted his eyes. “Did you stop by the ship? Of course you did, how else would you have known where to find me.” Stephen stated, answering his own question, “Well I am glad you showed up.” He pulled his coat about him tighter, “Coming back to the
Windward
?”

Tim shook his head, “No, I have some work to do. I’ll be around later to see you.” He stepped out into the street, heading toward the warehouses but stopped and turned around, “Stephen!” he called. Stephen stopped on the walk and turned back, “Stay around where I can find you. We have to talk.”

Stephen nodded. “You know where to find me.”

He turned and headed down the walk and Tim watched him for a moment, and then started across the street. It would be better to let him get to the ship, get cleaned up and square things with his crew before he tried to talk with him, he decided.

***

It was toward nightfall when Tim walked along the docks toward the
Windward
and was met, by Stephen, heading in the opposite direction. Tim stopped and looked at his older brother quizzically.