Upon Your Return (31 page)

He groaned. “All right,
chère
. I see your point. Your courage astounds me,” he whispered as he pulled her close. “I will return as soon as possible,” he said against her hair.

She gripped his shirtsleeves for a moment, savoring the solid feel of his body against hers. “I know,” she replied and then released him. She watched him go to the window and swing a leg over the sill. Her heart leaped into her throat as he dropped many feet to the lawn. She ran to the window, gasping her relief as he stood and surveyed the lawn through the darkness. “Grant!” she hissed.

He looked up. “
Oui
, my love?”

Tears started in her eyes at the endearment. “Be careful!”

“I will do that,
chère
, if you promise to do the same.”

“I promise!”

He nodded curtly and went for a horse. She watched him swing onto the mount's back and ride toward the harbor. Then she turned away and strode to the door of the bedchamber, knowing she had to bypass the men in the study. With her hand on the doorknob, she took a few deep breaths. Here it goes, she thought, and swung the door open to reveal one of the men, who then approached her. She backed away quickly, disgusted by the foul mixture of sweat and alcohol drifting about him.

“Where is your lover,
Mademoiselle
? Has he fled already? Was he unsatisfied by the pleasure you gave him? Or, was he so consumed with fear that we might sever his handsome pirate head from his body?”

“He is no pirate,” she hissed through set teeth.

“Perhaps your lover will tell you the truth someday, but it looks as if
Capitaine
Hill will not be the hero tonight.” His gaze swept over her body and his tongue rolled over his lips.

Oh
, God, she thought. There was no hope for her now. She would be raped, or worse…they would kill her before she ever had the chance to see Gabriel or Grant or
Tante
Lina again.

“
Mademoiselle
, I believe we have something to discuss. Since you are familiar with a man, I'm sure a few minutes of your precious time and charms would be no sacrifice…”

She fled to the opposite side of the bed. “You will
not
have that satisfaction…
Monsieur
.”

“But, you already know what I want and where I'm headed. You're a smart lady. Give me pleasure, and I'll tell you where to find your son.”

It was certainly blackmail, what he was proposing. She sighed in defeat. How could she have thought she'd wield any power over these men? She could only depend on her intelligence, her wits. “Somehow,
Monsieur
, I do not think this is what your employer had in mind.”

His face turned a deep shade of red. “Leave him out of this! He's not here,
Mademoiselle
. He would never know if I shared your favors. Forget him…besides, you cannot begin to guess his identity.”

She frowned. “Perhaps you are right for I am only a woman and I haven't a defense against you or him. However, this man you speak of is
Capitaine
Hill's enemy. Perhaps he is mine as well. I wonder if I did anything to cause him to retaliate.”

His eyes narrowed at her. “You conniving bitch! You broke
his
heart!”

She nodded. She had had very little acquaintance with men other than in passing. Nicholas Bordeaux and Jean Le Croíx were the only possibilities. And out of the two, Nicholas was the one who just happened to live in town. Of course it was Nicholas. It made sense now, regarding the fact that he had always considered Grant an enemy.

“I broke his heart, did I? He doesn't have one or he wouldn't have taken my son. More or less when I refused him, I merely bruised his precious ego! Damn him!” she shouted back.

The man approached her and with a grip on her waist, he directed her to the door and pushed her through with a hand at the small of her back. “
Oui
,” he muttered. “Perhaps you will have enough courage to say that to my employer's face!”

“Gladly!” she retorted and gasped as his arm snaked around her neck. She wondered why this man was so quick to defend Nicholas when there was only money at stake. She frowned as he directed her down the stairs to meet his accomplice.

* * * *

Grant veered to miss a street vendor who was closing for the night. He hugged his thighs close to the destrier to pick up speed. His breath came in gasps, labored from a panicked state he'd never experienced before. From his belly he felt a series of knots from what he assumed to be anxiety, a feeling he'd always attributed to females. The boy was in danger along with Lina Devereux. And now, he could safely add Fara to that list. For his lady's life to be in danger was the last thing he would have wished. He'd put her in that position mere minutes after making sweet love to her. But alas, he'd had no choice. Now as the destrier neared
La Voyageur
, he pulled on the reins, swung off its back, and staggered up the gangway of the ship. “Eric!”

His manservant reached him, eyes widening as he took in what was assuredly the appearance of a wild man. “
Capitaine
, what is it?”

“There isn't much time,
mon ami
. An unpleasant situation has come to my attention. Ready the ship to leave port tonight. I will return with
Mademoiselle
Bellamont and her family. Also, I would appreciate it if you could find the most available priest who might be able to wed us on the morrow.” He took another breath. “Is that clear, Eric?”

“
Oui, Capitaine
. I will tell the crew of our plans for tonight and as far as the other, I will handle it personally.”

“
Merci
,” he replied, breathing a sigh of relief.

“No worries,
Capitaine
. It will be done.”

By his tone, Grant knew Eric understood the gravity of the situation. Grant nodded, and then turned and ran down the gangway to the destrier. He swung onto the horse's back. It neighed, but quickly accepted his weight once more. He looked up at the moon in its vibrancy. “Be careful, my love,” he whispered. “I'm coming to find you…” his voice broke on an emotion to which he only recently became accustomed, and then he kicked the horse into a run, heading straight for the Devereux house.

Chapter Twenty-One

Fara winced as she was pushed to her knees upon the plush of red carpeting in the library. She closed her eyes, trying to forget a memory of years before when she and Grant had made love on the floor of another study in a house that had belonged to Michel
de
Bellamont. Now she might never see Grant again for these men might feel inclined to discard her body in the sea. She opened her eyes. “Where is your employer, I wonder? Has he given up the chase already?”

“Never,
ma chère
. Never.”

She looked up to see Grant's enemy approach her. Nicholas Bordeaux. “What do you want from me? From my family?”

“Nothing at all, Fara. Well, my inheritance. That's all. Nothing more. Nothing less, other than your signature next to mine. Your dowry is more than welcome.”

She gritted her teeth. “You're speaking of marriage, a prospect I declined years ago.”

He stroked his beard thoughtfully, but his cold brown eyes were slicing as they looked into hers. The tilt of his head brought a fresh fall of powder to the air, an aspect of his toilette that still disgusted her.

“The act of a fool. You thought you could refuse me, Fara, but you've only just begun the game of cat and mouse I've planned for us.”

She shook her head. “You don't want me as a wife; you never did. You only want my money.”

“I can't deny that charge. However, I could name several fellows who desire you…”

“But, you do not.”

“Why not, Fara? You're as desirable a lady as any. It would not matter though. You see, my father set out these stipulations. I could not have access to our family wealth unless I followed them. I must marry and provide an heir. It's no hardship to adopt the boy already created. It would be forgotten who his father really is. Your death after we wed would only be accidental. A fall down the stairs, a sudden fever.”

She felt the rage build inside of her. “You wouldn't!”

“Who would stop me, Fara?
La Capitaine
is not here to save your precious hide.” He laughed.

She blinked back her tears. “Son of a--”

“Shh, Fara…
chère
, you do not wish me to retaliate before the wedding. I will, just like that, take your womanhood, take your ability to breed…”

She paled visibly. Only a monster would threaten such a thing. How could she ever have compared the man to her uncle? “Why?”

“Why else? Another man has bedded my wife before I. I wouldn't want to risk her bearing another man's child in our future and claiming it to be mine. A safeguard,
chère
. It is fair motive, I think.”

“You wouldn't.”

“Wouldn't I?”

He would. He could easily
, if she gave him reason enough. “Suppose I died… accidentally? Would there be any challenge then?”

He shrugged. “It happens. There is still the boy, deserving of your dowry as well.”

“
Tante
Lina would stop you! She loves Gabriel!”

“That hag? No one would miss her. I could easily become your son's godfather, his only caretaker.”

“No,” she whispered, almost in tears.

“It is all quite possible, you realize, if one pulls the right strings.”

This was true, but surely his past mistakes could affect him. “We had that engagement thrown out years ago. People will not forget.”

“Perhaps, but that was all arranged by
Capitaine
Hill and he will never fully rid himself from the label of traitor,
oui
?”

She sighed. “So this is your perfect plan, hmm?”

“What did you expect after everything you did to me? Humiliated me in public, in front of friends--”

“You humiliated yourself,” she retorted. When he stepped forward, shoving his face in hers, gripping her hair, she winced. “So you plan to take me kicking and screaming.”

“Not a bad idea.” Then he kissed her right on the lips.

Revolted, she turned her head. Then she spat at him. “Where is my family?”

His eyes threatening, he lifted a shoulder nonchalantly, and pretended to inspect his fingernails.

“Where are they?” she demanded.

“They are safe.”

“Where?”

“Where all the inferiors go, of course.”

She frowned.
Monsieur
Bordeaux was of the arrogant kind that deemed himself better than anyone else including servants. So he must have them in the servant's quarters with Rosalie and Francoise. It was somewhat comforting to know they were all right and together, but it was not conducive to a good plan. Where was Grant?

A loud crash sounded from the kitchen. Nicholas brought out a dagger he had hidden in his belt. “Anton, go see what that was.”

The man Nicholas had called Anton grunted, and then left to investigate. After a few minutes, there was another loud sound. The other man, standing behind her, shifted uneasily. “Do you want me to go too?”

Nicholas shook his head. “That would be unwise, Henri. You do not know who you are dealing with. He is trying to separate us.”

From out of nowhere, Grant appeared in the room, his rapier pointed at the man called Henri. “Move. Now,” he ordered. Henri struggled to release his pistol from its clip but in a swift move, Grant slammed the hold of the sword against the man's head. He went down quickly like a lump of coal.

“Impressive,
Capitaine
,” Nicholas said. He then grabbed Fara's arm and dragged her against him, threatening with the dagger he held. “Hopefully the next time you are at an impasse such as this you will be much wiser.”

“Meaning?”

Without warning, Anton reappeared and toppled Grant to the floor, pressing a rapier into his throat. Fara's stomach rolled. Grant dropped his own sword and held up his hands.

“Meaning you should make sure the man you tried to take out before is actually unconscious.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Grant added sardonically.

Nicholas bent over Henri, and roused him with a hefty slap on the cheek and a few calls of his name. Henri came to. Then the two hired men tied Fara and Grant's hands behind their backs and led them into the courtyard, where they were placed by a fountain. Fara could not help but remember the significance of that fountain, a significance that was not lost on Grant either who looked at her sadly. “Where are Gabe and Lina?” he whispered as the men were thick in their own discussion.

“He's keeping them with the servants.”

He nodded. “So they're safe.”

“
Oui
. If I can trust his word.”

“Are you all right?”

“Would you be if a man who was once betrothed to you took your family and told you he was going to marry you and then kill you afterward for your dowry?”

He grimaced. “That is his plan?”

“He's always been a scoundrel, but no one ever noticed the depths of his madness, I think.”

Nicholas whispered something to Anton and Henri, and the men suddenly came at them, pushing them further into the gardens. Exiting out the back way, they were forced down the cobblestone paths of the streets.

Fara, uncomfortable with the ropes on her hands, pushed Henri away from her with her hip. “Get off of me!”

Nicholas brought his dagger into clear view again. “Let's play nice now, Fara.”

“Why? Where are we going?” she asked as they moved forward. Nicholas was in front of her now.

“We've decided that keeping you both alive would be a liability. No one will ever know what really happened.”

So he would kill them both if he had to. But, Grant would be first. Nicholas still needed her signature. Did he actually intend to murder her the second they married? She'd never sign any sort of marriage contract. It was the only leverage she had.

Fara shook her head as she struggled with the man who was behind her. “Now do you see why I refused to let him court me?” She had to cause a distraction, create an opportunity for Grant to escape.

She glanced over her shoulder at Grant's hands. He was struggling with his own bonds. “I'm getting the picture,” he said softly.

Nicholas strode toward Fara and held up the dagger, threatening her with its blade. “Shut up, woman! You stupid wench, I should cut this one's throat. Ah, but his neck is worth something to you, isn't it? Keep a still tongue in that beautiful head of yours,
chère
. You've been warned now, remember?”

It was a subtle threat, yet she understood it well. In order to keep him from carving Grant as he no doubt wanted to, she closed her mouth, held back her retort, and stood in silence.

The man behind her grew restless. It was Henri. “Nicholas...when do we get her alone? The tigress needs taming, you know.”

“These things take time. I'm waiting for a signal from
Monsieur
Hill here and we might get things started. When I defeat him, you can have her once for your pleasure and then I'll take her as my wife.”

The man laughed. “How do you think she'll handle me? Such a marvelous specimen...” He leaned to whisper in Fara's ear. “You're about to have the ride of your life.”

He cupped her breast, digging his fingers into her flesh. Repulsed by his lust, she could not prevent herself from retaliating. “The hell you will! Bastards, I'll kill you before you get your hands on me!” She slammed her heel against his shin and as he yelped in pain, she spun around and kneed him in the groin. He went to the ground, clutching at his belly, and then as she whirled back around, she halted in front of a pistol barrel aimed at her heart. Her gaze moved from the man with the gun to Grant. Her breath came in gasps when she beheld the sight of Nicholas pressing the dagger's tip into Grant's throat.

“Bitch…bitch,” Henri groaned, gripping his crotch.

“Now, if you are quite through with your excellent show of heroics? And, M
ademoiselle
, if you care at all for this one, you will cease this nonsense at once.”

She breathed deep, and their gazes fell to her chest. The rise and fall of her breasts was no doubt a pleasant sight for all of them, but she did not care. She feared Grant's death, yes, but she also feared seeing disappointment in his eyes. As her gaze shifted back to Grant, she focused on his expression. He was studying her carefully. She didn't find accusation in his eyes, or even a plea to stop the madness. Only pride for her bravery glowed in those dark eyes. It comforted her and filled her with confidence.

She wanted...no, needed to brush the rifle barrel aside and go to him, embrace him in gratitude, but she couldn't without risking Grant's life. She just looked at him and hoped that he might receive the message. And he did; the sudden light in his eyes and the way his mouth tugged upward at the corners made it plain as day. The man she loved had given her a small, but beautiful gift. Then, she looked away from that captivating gaze to focus on the situation at hand. Nicholas was waiting for her reply.

“I promise I'll not do anything foolish,” she stated simply.

“Good,” he said, and he lifted the dagger from Grant's throat.

Fara glanced at Grant. She knew he had a plan, but she did not know what it was. She knew that in order for them to survive, they would have to separate the men. Grant could most likely handle two men, but not three. She needed to get Nicholas away from the others somehow. Grant would hate her plan, but she had to do it.

“Why are you doing this, Nicholas? There's no reason to kill Grant or anyone else. Leave them out of this. Really, all you want is me.” She sighed. “If you cut these bonds, I'll go willingly.”

“You don't mean that. You haven't until now.” With an inquiring eyebrow, he looked at her closely. “Why would you succumb? To save your family and him?”

“Partly, yes.”

“And?”

“And I understand the need for revenge. I did, after all, humiliate you.” She played up to his ego.

He remained quiet for a moment, studying her face. Fara hoped her words conveyed sincerity.

“Well, then,” he said, putting his arm around her. “
Messieurs
, let the man go. But, do what you must. I have somewhere else to be.” He led her off as swiftly as he had kidnapped her family.

* * * *

Grant grimaced. That took care of part of the problem, but he would have to worry about what Nicholas was capable of and as far as he knew, there were no limits. As the men cut his bonds, he swung around and deftly took one man's rapier while leaving him with a bloody nose. Knowing he was no match for a pistol, he ran behind a vendor cart, ducking to avoid the shot.

“You will pay for that.”

The man whose nose was bloodied stood in front of him. He was either mad or stupid for he carried no other weapon. Then another shot rang out and a blood stain on the man's shirt appeared and rapidly grew. He fell to the ground.

Grant shook his head in disbelief and ducked down. For a man to kill his own comrade was serious business. If he didn't find some way to gain an advantage he'd end up the same, with a hole through the center of his chest. No doubt, at this very moment the ruffian hurried to ready his pistol.