Lady Vixen (80 page)

Lafitte
looked almost smug as he said with grandeur, "I did better than merely
release him,
mon ami!
I will not go into details, but the opportunity
presented itself to me to politely place him in the hands of a few of his
fellow British officers, and not one to overlook opportunity, I quickly seized
upon it. I would guess that he is now somewhere on his way back to England...
or more likely safely ensconced with the British fleet currently harrying us on
the Gulf." Sending Christopher a laughingly reproachful glance, Lafitte
murmured, "The shifts I am put to by my friends!"

There
were a dozen questions Christopher would have liked to ask about Allen's return
to the British, the first being the circumstances of Lafitte's meeting with
British officers. But Lafitte had already stated he would give no details, and
from past experience Christopher knew he would gain nothing by persisting.
Lafitte had told him all he intended to . . . for the moment. Yet he could not
let it rest entirely—there was definitely something here that he did not like,
something he could not put his finger on. The question of Allen's fate aside,
Lafitte's entire attitude troubled him. Jean was simply too carelessly
indifferent, too cheerful. A man who had lost everything did not act as Lafitte
did—not when he was reduced to hiding in a small cottage near the ramparts.
Frowning, Christopher demanded bluntly, "Jean, what are you going to do
now? Let the Americans hound you from New Orleans? And what about Dominique You
and the others?"

Lafitte's
face instantly went smooth, a calculating gleam in the black eyes. "Do you
ask that for yourself or for your friend Jason Savage? Savage who whispers into
the governor's ear?"

His
own face suddenly hard and angry, Christopher said levelly, "I think you
know the answer to that question. I have told you before how I stand."

"So
you have,
mon ami,
but considering the circumstances, you will forgive
me if I am suspicious. After all, I have no reason to love the governor, and
word has already circulated that you and Monsieur Savage called upon him
yesterday. I wonder if you will tell me of that meeting?"

Caught
off guard, having forgotten that Lafitte's spies were some of the most adept,
Christopher stared at him, suddenly wishing to hell he had never started this
conversation. Telling Lafitte of that meeting was out of the question, and yet
if he did not, Lafitte would never trust him again. And for some unknown reason
Christopher instinctively felt that it was vitally important that Lafitte
continue to look upon him as a friend. Trapped in an unpleasant situation,
Christopher took the only way out that someone of his nature could; with his
jaw set stubbornly, he said bluntly, "I cannot."

Surprisingly
his answer seemed to please Lafitte. "I know that,
mon ami.
If you
had told me what you know, I would never have trusted you again. A man who will
betray one secret will betray many."

"You
are turning into quite a philosopher," Christopher drawled wryly.

"Ah,
yes, it happens occasionally," Jean agreed lightly. Studying his hands
clasped together on the table before him, Lafitte said slowly, "You ask
what I am to do and I tell you I do not know. Barataria is in ruins; my
warehouse, my ships are burned and in the hands of the Americans; many of my
men are in cells in the calaboose. But I am not beaten. The Americans know
nothing of the men that escaped and that are waiting my command at the Isles
Dernieres, nor do they even guess that there is another, a secret warehouse of
flints and ammunition, easily accessible to me." Bitterly, the black eyes
bleak and hard, he finished, "They will regret it,
mon ami,
that
they turned down my offer of help."

Alert
and slightly puzzled at Lafitte's words, Christopher asked sharply, "Your
offer of help?"

Lafitte
sent him a mirthless smile. "You have not heard? The British approached
me, with the intention of having myself and my men join their ranks, and as you
will instantly guess, it was then I gave them Ballard. I did not give those
same officers an immediate answer; instead, like a fool, I notified Claiborne
that I was willing to repulse the British proposal and fight on the side of New
Orleans if he would allow me to do so." His voice thickening with
injustice, Lafitte spat, "You see the result of my offer!"

Watching
Lafitte's ruthless face, Christopher thought exasperatedly, By heaven, Savage,
I hope you and Claiborne know what you have done!

He
said as much to Savage when he met with him later. The instant the two men were
alone in Jason's library, Christopher snapped, "I've seen Lafitte. Would
you mind telling my why the governor refused his help? We need any help we can
get, and you know damn well that Lafitte's men are already war-hardened. My
God, Jason, from what we know we will be outnumbered almost three to one, and
you and Claiborne turn down a force of nearly a thousand men!"

Jason
sighed heavily. "I know. And all I can say is that I did not vote with the
others for the attack on Barataria. I believed those letters Lafitte sent were
genuine. But Patterson and Ross had been preparing for the assault on Barataria
for weeks and they overruled everyone else."

The
hard, handsome features were hostile and slightly disbelieving; Christopher
requested sourly, "Suppose you tell me exactly what did happen? From the
beginning, if you please."

Settling
back in his chair, Jason did precisely that. "The first I heard about
it," he began slowly, "was when I received a note to come immediately
to the governor's house on the fourth or fifth of September. When I arrived
there, I found that several others also had been sent a similar message. Major
General Jacques Villere, Patterson, and Ross were present acting as Claiborne's
naval and military advisors; Collector Dubourg, in charge of the customs for
the government in New Orleans, was naturally there, as well as myself and one
or two others. John Blanque was there too—his presence, I assume, comes as no
surprise to you."

It
did not. John Blanque, a lawyer-banker and a member of the legislature, was
known to be extremely sympathetic toward the Lafitte brothers. There were even
well-founded rumors that he had financed several of the vessels owned by the
brothers, and there was no denying that he was very definitely their friend.

At
Christopher's curt nod of agreement, Jason continued, "Lafitte had sent
certain letters to Blanque of a purported British bid for his services, along
with a letter to the governor expressing his desire 'to return to the
sheep-fold.' And he wrote, I remember exactly, 'that the only reward I ask is
that a stop be put to the proscription against me and my adherents.' We all
found it a little hard to believe," Jason commented dryly. "But
before the meeting ended, I for one was convinced that letters of the British
offer for his services were genuine. I did still have some doubts as to his
sincerity, but, as you said, a thousand armed men, even of dubious loyalty,
fighting for the city was better than none at all! I was willing to consider
the matter, as were one or two of the other men. Unfortunately Claiborne relied
entirely on his military advisors, asking them only two questions: Did they
think the letters genuine? And was it proper for the governor to enter into any
correspondence with Lafitte or his associates?" Jason paused, his face
somber as he looked across at Christopher. Then in a weary voice he said,
"Villere voted vehemently yes, while Patterson and Ross voted no. And that
ended it,
mon ami.
The governor decided that Lafitte's expulsion from
Barataria was more urgent than to give any credence to what might only be a trick
on Lafitte's part."

"You
didn't think that."

"No.
I did not," Jason agreed. "But I am not the governor. He did as he
saw fit. And you really cannot blame the man for falling in with his military
advisors. After all, that is why he has them! Patterson and Ross did not believe
the letters genuine, and I cannot say that I hold it against them. Now, though,
with what you have brought back from England, I am even more certain that the
British
did
attempt to bribe Lafitte and that those letters were, in
fact, precisely what Lafitte said they were. Unfortunately Lafitte is now our
enemy, and we may come to regret bitterly that we acted as we did," Jason
finished dispiritedly.

Christopher's
tone was thoughtful as he murmured, "Lafitte is certainly not overjoyed at
what has happened, but he may still be brought over to our side. And God knows
we need him! He has men and more importantly a warehouse of flints and
ammunition."

Christopher
had debated telling Jason that, but feeling he would betray nothing that could
be used against Jean, he felt relatively safe in mentioning the men and arms.
It might even help, if Savage was willing to listen to the plan beginning to
take shape in his head.

Tentatively
he inquired, "Could you find out if the governor is still unwilling to
negotiate with Lafitte? It's possible we may yet be able to turn this to our
advantage."

The
emerald eyes alert, Jason regarded Christopher. "You have something in
mind?"

"I
do. But it depends on the governor." Then Christopher frowned.
"Or," he said slowly, "Jackson."

Jason
shook his head decisively. "Nothing there. Jackson already knows
everything about the entire business, and he had dismissed Lafitte and his men
as 'hellish banditti.' He thinks they should have been run out of the Gulf long
ago and applauds what Patterson and Ross have accomplished. You'll not find him
inclined to deal with Lafitte, I can tell you that! At least," Jason
tacked on reflectively, "not at the moment. Perhaps when he sees how
poorly equipped we are to beat back a concerted British attack, he will feel
differently. That memorandum of yours will certainly help convince him of how
strong the effort to capture New Orleans will be. By the way, Claiborne sent it
to him by special messenger immediately after we left yesterday. So now all we
can do is wait and see what the general decides to do."

Christopher
pulled a face. "That seems to be what I have been doing for months,"
he said disgustedly. "First in England and now it appears that is what I
shall be doing here in New Orleans—wait and see. It should be my middle
name."

Jason
laughed. "I know exactly how you feel. It has been a trying time for us
all. We know the British assault is coming; we know there is great activity by
the British fleet in the Gulf; but when or even precisely where they may strike
has everyone glancing nervously over their shoulders."

"At
least now I hope everyone knows in
which
direction to look over their
shoulders," Christopher commented tartly. Straightening from his relaxed
position, he said, "Well, I won't keep you, and I apologize for acting so
angry earlier. Since we won't have to discuss the Lafitte situation now, do you
still desire my company at dinner Thursday?"

"Why
not? I did not invite you only to discuss Lafitte, you know." A smile
crinkled the corners of his eyes, and Jason added, "I am most anxious to
hear of Nicole's conquest of England. Do tell me, did you leave her well
established, with every eligible male in London at her feet?"

Christopher's
easy manner vanished in a second; a certain wariness entered his bearing. Oh,
Jesus, he thought angrily, why didn't I think of the all awkward questions that
would be asked? There was no use lying about the situation—he had made no
attempt to hide Nicole's presence in his house, and Jason was bound to find out
about it, sooner or later.

His
voice was void of any expression at all as he said slowly, "As a matter of
fact, I didn't leave her behind. She is with me at Dauphine Street."

Jason
astutely regarded the hard, closed face, wishing fervently that he had minded his
own business. Christopher had made no mention of marriage, no mention of a
wife, and his demeanor certainly indicated otherwise; so evidently Nicole had
returned as his mistress. And that, Jason decided regretfully, was going to be
a problem. He had liked the girl, so had Catherine for that matter, and she had
been introduced to some of the finest and proudest families in New Orleans, but
now . . . What a cursed affair! It didn't bother Jason a tinker's damn that
Nicole had become Christopher's mistress, but one could not in all politeness
offend other acquaintances not quite so broad-minded. There was a rigid social
line between an eligible young woman and a mistress, and there were going to be
quite a number of ruffled feathers when it dawned on certain people that the
young woman they had met and admired as Christopher Saxon's ward had returned
as his kept woman.

The
pause that had greeted Christopher's words became very noticeable, and almost
haughtily Christopher demanded, "Well, haven't you anything to say? No
further questions?"

"What
do you want me to say?" Jason hedged, remembering suddenly and
unaccountably how he had felt in those early days with Catherine, when he had
been torn between the desire to put his hands around her throat and put an end
to the torment she provoked, and the equal desire to possess her. Intuitively
he sensed that Christopher found himself in much the same position, and he
sympathized more than a little. It was an exquisite torture that he would not
wish on even his worst enemy.