My Lady Vixen (21 page)

“Keep trying, Mary,” encouraged Alexa. “If only I were allowed to talk to them I know they’d …”

“Your time is up, lady,” a gruff voice announced, halting Alexa in mid-sentence. This time it was Grubbs who appeared at the grill. “You were only promised ten minutes.”

Grubbs opened the door and Mary reluctantly moved toward it after bestowing one last hug on Alexa, whispering in her ear as she did, “Don’t give up, Alexa. I know your husband will arrive in time. Or that the General will relent.”

“Out!” ordered Grubbs curtly. Then the door closed and once again Alexa found herself alone, surrounded by a terrible silence.

But miracle of miracles, a short time later Grubbs returned with a basin of water. Bless Mary, Alexa thought as she quickly shed her cloak and dress and stood in her torn chemise. Almost reverently Alexa took
up the bar of soap and washcloth, the luxury of soap and water on her skin so sensual she closed her eyes and gasped with joy.

“She’d rather have that water than a man between her legs,” goaded Bates from the other side of the grill.

“That’s because she’s never had a real man,” Grubbs gibed crudely.

“Go away!” raged Alexa, holding the towel before her breasts. “Am I to be allowed no privacy? You treat me no better than an animal!”

“Traitor, animal—no difference.” Bates shrugged, grinning at his cruel joke. Nevertheless, they moved away, allowing Alexa privacy in which to wash and dress in her clean clothes. She felt like a new person and was amazed at how the feeling of cleanliness lent her courage. It was almost as if fresh blood surged through her veins with the clean clothes. Now she was ready to face anything, or so she thought.

A few days later Alexa had another visitor; one so unexpected and surprising that she was rendered speechless when she recognized the face she knew as well as her own.

“Hello, Alexa.”

“My God! Charles! What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you. I never thought to see you again. Certainly not under these circumstances. You’ve fallen about as low as anyone can go, milady,” he mocked cruelly.

“Charles, have you come to taunt me or to help me?” Alexa asked, a spark of hope lighting her eyes.

“Help you, Alexa!” Charles laughed nastily. “You’ve committed treason against the crown. Surely you don’t expect me to lift a hand to save you, do you?”

“We were to be married once, Charles. You said you loved me.”

“That’s before you showed me your true colors. Your father told me how you became whore to Adam Foxworth who just happens to be Lord Penwell, the man who attacked me in the summerhouse on the night of our engagement. Did you have the whole thing planned in advance, Alexa?”

“Charles! You are despicable! You well know I was taken against my will and … and forced. It was all part of a grand scheme by Adam to hurt and embarrass my father.”

“You ran off and married the fellow, Alexa,” Charles accused childishly.

“And without allowing me the courtesy of an explanation you broke our engagement to marry Lady Diana,” Alexa retorted hotly.

“What did you expect?” shrugged Charles haughtily. “You were damaged goods. And as it turned out expecting another man’s child.” He glared fixedly at her flat stomach.

“I lost the baby,” Alexa said softly, surprised at the stab of pain she still felt over the loss. “If you haven’t come to help me, Charles, why did you come? To gloat?”

“Perhaps,” admitted Charles sheepishly. “Then again, maybe I just wished to see you once more before … before …”

“Before they hang me,” supplied Alexa. “No need to stumble over the words, Charles, I know what they intend for me. But tell me, what are you doing in Savannah?”

“I’m a captain, now,” he boasted. “I have a ship of my own, the
Avenger
. My ship took part in the successful attack on Fox. We’ve been ordered to patrol these waters for several weeks in a concentrated effort to rid the area of privateers. They are creating havoc with our shipping. Now that the Fox has been eliminated our job has been made much easier.”

Alexa smiled ruefully. Little did Charles know but the Fox was still at large and no doubt
The Gray Ghost
would rise up from the ashes to harass the British. “Do you find this amusing, Alexa?” Charles asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. “I should think one facing death would show some remorse.”

“I have no guilt over what I did, Charles. A man came to me gravely wounded, a friend of my husband. I took him in and cared for his wounds. If that constitutes treason, then I plead guilty.”

“The man you conveniently took in was the notorious Fox, a traitor with a price on his head.”

“You’re wrong, Charles. Mac is not the Fox.”

“The authorities think so.”

“They are wrong.”

Charles shrugged. “What about the careless words you uttered before hundreds of people declaring your sympathy for Fox and the so-called patriots? Barrington told me that General Prevost would have jailed you then and there had you not been pregnant at the time.”

Unable to curb her tongue a moment longer, Alexa lashed out heedlessly. “I meant every word I said! These Americans don’t deserve the treatment they’re getting from the English. They want nothing but freedom from oppression and unjust taxation. They are a hardy and tenacious people and I find I greatly admire their spirit and courage!”

“My God! You are a traitor!” gasped Charles, aghast. “I must admit I seriously had my doubts concerning your guilt, that’s one of the reasons I requested permission to see you. But now,” he shook his head sadly. “I believe all the charges leveled against you. You’ve changed, Alexa.”

“Of course I have,” charged Alexa crankily. “After all I’ve been through do you expect me to remain the same selfish, spoiled child?”

“When I arrived and learned about you, I felt almost sorry for you. But it’s obvious to me you deserve everything that’s coming to you. Goodbye, Alexa.” Without a backward glance Charles stomped haughtily from the cell, his pride and bearing echoing his disdain for a traitor to her own country, no matter how beautiful and desirable she may be.

“Well, my lady,” sneered Bates through the grille, “not even one of your lovers will lift a finger to help you. Now it appears doubtful that your own husband cares enough about you to come to your defense even though he has been back in Savannah for several days.”

Stunned, Alexa cried, “You lie! Why should I believe you? If Adam was in Savannah he would surely do his utmost to set me free.”

“Why would I lie, milady? Believe what you will but rumor has it he’s already courting his next wife.”

“Lady Gwen,” breathed Alexa as pain shuddered through her.

“Aye, you have the name right, milady,” grinned Bates maliciously. “But you need only say the word and old Bates will comfort you in your last hours.”

“Go away!” shouted Alexa, covering her ears to drown out his hateful words. When she dared to look again Bates was gone.

Flinging herself on the cot. Alexa gave vent to her pain and misery. Could it be true? she asked herself with fearful clarity. The picture of Adam and Gwen together numbed her brain. What could Adam be thinking? Had he bothered to check the prisoner assumed to be Fox he would surely know that it was Mac being held and not the infamous privateer. Was it fear of losing his Tory friends that caused him to abandon her, the wife he professed to love? Alexa understood none of it. What was Adam up to? Did he intend to sit back and let her hang because of her loyalty to her newly adopted
country? Was he so shallow as to allow such a travesty of justice rather than defend his own wife? Or his best friend? Confusion reigned as Alexa’s mind reeled beneath the weight of her thoughts.

Somehow, life continued. Nearly a month had elapsed since Alexa had been seized and imprisoned. Each day she begged to be allowed an audience with either Governor Wright or General Prevost—and each day her request was denied. Since the surprise visit by Charles, no one had been allowed near her. For what reason she could not divine.

Then one day the long promised event she had been dreading for weeks came to pass. Grubbs arrived early with her usual basin of water, informing her that she was finally being brought to trial. She was to appear that very afternoon. “The Fox was tried yesterday and promptly sentenced to hang.” Grubbs announced gleefully. “No doubt you’ll both hang, side by side.”

Alexa rejoiced to learn that Mac still lived but was saddened by the cruel blow fate had dealt them. Abruptly she wondered if Adam would attend her trial, and hoped he would not. She had no wish to see him ever again. At that moment the only emotion she could spare her husband was hatred.

Alexa washed carefully and brushed her long black hair until it glowed like buffed glass as it caressed her slim hips. Looking in the small mirror Mary had thoughtfully provided she saw a small pale oval staring back at her. Her smudged violet eyes seemed too large for her face and her skin had a translucent quality bordering on fragility. Her wan appearance startled her for she had never been particularly sickly or fragile. Weeks in a damp, sunless environment had greatly undermined her health and Alexa had never been more aware of it as she searched her mirror for a hint of the beauty that had
once been hers.

It was the odious Captain Barrington who came for her a few hours later, looking down his long nose at her bedraggled appearance. Though her body was clean her dress was dirty and stained from weeks of wear. The weather was uncomfortably warm but Alexa threw her badly worn cloak over her shoulders, hoping to conceal her disreputable state of dress.

“Your day of reckoning has finally arrived, Lady Foxworth,” Barrington sneered disparagingly. “I must say you look nothing like the beautiful woman who entered this cell a few short weeks ago.”

“How can I when I was allowed not one single consideration or amenity?” Alexa replied scathingly. “I was treated worse than an animal.”

“Tell the Governor, or General Prevost, when you see them,” shrugged Barrington, unconcerned. “Move along,” he prodded, hurrying her from the cell in a manner that was anything but gentlemanly.

Alexa blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the light. Immediately she was hustled into a closed carriage which took off with a jolt before she had a chance to settle herself. Beside her Captain Barrington took out a spotless handkerchief and mopped his brow. Never would he become accustomed to the abominable Savannah heat.

During their short ride from the Governor’s mansion to the building where Alexa’s trial was to be held, Barrington regaled her with news of the war. It seemed that General Henry Hamilton, the British commander at Detroit, had captured Vincennes in Illinois. What Barrington did not know was that Vincennes was even now under attack by George Rogers Clark in a successful bid to recapture the British post. This expedition did much to free the frontier from Indian raids and gave the Americans a hold upon the northwest. All this
Barrington was to learn later in dispatches sent to General Prevost and delayed by the capture of the courier.

All too soon they reached the rather austere building that served as a courthouse and Alexa drew back, stunned to see the crowds of people waiting outside for her appearance, or so she assumed. The moment she stepped from the carriage Alexa knew a moment of sheer fright as her assumption proved correct. At her appearance the crowd turned ugly, hurling insults at her from every direction. If there was anyone who sympathized with her cause, they wisely kept their feelings to themselves lest they face the same fate as Alexa.

“Traitor!” Shouts came from the crowd as bodies closed in upon her. “Hang the traitorous bitch!” It was a nightmare, and Alexa, weak from her long weeks of confinement and inactivity, felt herself drowning in a sea of hostility. She wanted to crawl into a hole, to faint, to disappear, if it were possible. Anything to escape the revilement heaped upon her by the jostling, angry crowd of Tories.

One thing only saved Alexa from making a fool of herself by fainting at the feet of her tormentors. Adam! Across the sea of anonymous faces, one countenance stood out amidst the others. A handsome, arrogant face whose gunmetal eyes pierced her like knives aimed at her heart. Alexa’s first thought was that except for the subtle lines of tension etching his features, he looked the same.

Grief tore at her vitals the moment she saw Lady Gwen beside him, clutching possessively at his arm, and hatred rose like bile in her throat, bitter and choking. Alexa felt blackness begin to claim her and summoned all the strength her meager body possessed to subdue it. Never would she give Adam and Gwen the satisfaction
of knowing that seeing them together hurt her beyond measure. Her lower lips jutting in angry defiance, jaw set determinedly. Alexa gulped back her nausea as she surmounted the darkness threatening to devour her and moved through the crowd, one step at a time.

In her heart she accepted the inevitable without question. Adam had indeed abandoned her and she was left alone to face an ignominious end.

His arrogant features purposely set in harsh lines, Adam nearly dropped his stony facade when he saw Alexa stumble, then right herself the moment she spotted him in the crowd. She looked thin and wan, the tender skin beneath her huge purple eyes bruised with dark shadows. How she must hate me, he thought, nearly rushing to her defense despite his firm resolve to pretend indifference to her plight. But the pressure Lady Gwen applied to his arm brought him back to his senses and he was able to watch with outward calm as Alexa, mustering the courage he knew her capable of, squared her small shoulders and passed through the angry crowd with her dignity intact.

It was bad enough. Adam reflected glumly, watching Mac’s trial and subsequent death sentence without batting an eyelash. Especially in view of the fact that he was called upon to testify. Deliberately lying under oath. Adam swore that it was entirely possible for Mac to be the Fox. He further explained that he seldom saw his friend or was privy to his personal life. Through it all
Mac sat apparently unmoved by Adam’s testimony. His grave wounds were beginning to heal but Mac was still too weak to walk into the courtroom. It was obvious to Adam that his friend hadn’t received the proper care he needed in order to speed his recovery. And judging from the look of Alexa’s pale face she had been treated no better.