Paxton and the Gypsy Blade (39 page)

“What?” Tom prompted.

“I think he regrets his actions … the kidnapping. He won't admit it in so many words, of course. He's a proud man. Like you. Maybe too proud, my darling.”

“Whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Yours, of course,” Adriana flared, resenting the implication that she was disloyal. “I'm simply telling you what I think.”

“Well, he'll regret it a lot more when this is finished.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Do? I'm—we, that is, the four of us—are going to take the boys back, for starters.” Legs spread, hands clenched into fists, he stood facing the hidden mansion where his sons were kept from him. “If it weren't for the guards, we'd have them already. As it is, we've had to spend time preparing a few surprises along our escape route so they won't catch us before we get back to the boat. Tomorrow night, though, at the latest …”

“I think you'd be better off waiting until—”

“
Waiting
? What do you mean, waiting? Do you have any idea what it's been like sitting here for four days, knowing they were there, being able to see them but not touch them or talk to them or hold them?” He crouched at her side and gripped her shoulder. “I want my sons, Adriana. I want them
back
!” A shuddering sigh racked his body and, as if the spring that had held him coiled and ready to strike had been released, he let go of her arm and sagged to the ground next to her. “The truth is,” he said, subdued, “that I want you back, too. We heard in town that you'd disappeared and that Bliss was looking for you. I was scared stiff wondering what had happened. And then, two days ago, Maurice spotted you. You were gone by the time I got there, but later, I caught a glimpse of you in an open window, and …”

His fingers touched her cheek, slid through her hair to cup her head and gently pull her to him. “I missed you, Adriana. God, but I missed you so much … knowing you were so close … wanting you …”

Their kiss was the cry of souls longing to be together. Adriana's hand slid under his shirt; his hand pulled her blouse from her skirt and sought her breasts.

“Thomas … Thomas …”

He sat up, removed his belt with its warlike implements, and cast it aside. “I want to look at you,” he said, his voice deep and husky as his fingers fumbled at the buttons on her blouse.

Adriana stiffened, looked around apprehensively. “The others—”

“Won't return until sundown. This time …”—her blouse fell open and his hands held her breasts as he bent to kiss the soft, warm valley between them—“… is ours.”

Time lost, time suspended in a flood of sensations that left her weak and trembling. He untied the laces that secured her skirt, slipped it under her hips and lay it to one side, then rose to shed his shirt and breeches, and to gaze down at her.

Adriana lay in the sun, one hand behind her head, the other at her side. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath, her nipples swelled in anticipation of his touch. Her stomach lay flat, then sloped up to meet the twin planes of her hips and, between them, that softer padded mound of Venus rich with auburn hair that glinted in the sun. Her right leg lay straight, her left was bent slightly. “If it were given me to see you only once in this life,” Tom said, kneeling at her side, “it would be like this. I would touch you everywhere, know every sweet hill and valley of you. You are my world, Adriana. My world.”

He stroked her feet, her calves. His kisses warmed the hollows behind her knees. “I dreamed we were together like this, the sun warm on us …” More kisses, soft as the touch of a butterfly's wings, wrote the name of love on her thighs and set her to trembling. Two fingers, oh, so gently, spread her, caressed the moist inner flesh that swelled and darkened with her arousal.

“How beautiful … how fitting … that we are made so …” His breath warmed her, his lips caught and held her, his tongue touched her with fire.

Adriana arched her back and fought to keep from crying out. Sweat beaded her forehead and a low moan began deep in her throat. Her hand sought him, felt his heaviness, his growing hardness, the sweetness of his passion. “Thomas …”

Hungry, unashamed, she opened herself to him, watched with hooded eyes as he moved to kneel between her legs, as he caught her hips and lifted her to him. Forgotten the sun, forgotten the wind and the world. Unable to restrain herself, she moved against him to moisten and ready him, then spread herself and guided him into …

Teeth clenched, hands holding her hips to keep her from moving, Tom rocked back, fighting the coming explosion he knew he couldn't stop. “Don't move … I …”

“I don't care,” she whispered. “I don't care, Thomas. Now … please!”

He pitched forward, his weight on his hands, then held himself over her and stared into her eyes as he plunged deep inside her, as her legs circled his waist, as her hands clawed his back, as, together, they were seized by the rolling, thundering spasms that held them paralyzed and only … slowly … released them to sag, spent and dizzy and breathless, in each other's arms.

The sun laved them with its warmth, the slight breeze cooled them as they lay quietly in the sweet, shimmering afterglow. Adriana lay on her side, her head cradled by Tom's arm, her right leg resting on his abdomen. Tom's hand stroked the side of her breast, ran lightly up and down her side, played across the small of her back. “Strange,” he said quietly, his first words in a quarter of an hour, “how sometimes it seems like …”

“The first time?”

“That.” He turned to her, kissed her forehead. “More, though. The only time, maybe? I don't know …”

“The first time in the history of the world. No one else ever … we're the only ones.” She sighed, reached to kiss his neck. “How could I not have known you were so near? These dreams of mine have a life of their own. Just when I'm beginning to believe I'm learning how to control them, they trick me and humble me.” She paused, looked up at him. “Was it terrible?” she asked hesitantly.

“The terrible part was thinking about all those who'd died on my account—and about you, and about never seeing the boys again. For the rest of it, we were too busy staying alive to think about survival being terrible or not.” His voice soft, he related the story of their days in the open boat, their rescue of Sanchez, and the journey to San Sebastian. “Slurry knew about a small cove—a cleft in the rocks, really, but safe enough if there's no heavy weather. We tied up there Sunday afternoon and left Slurry to wait for us while we went to see about you and the boys. San Sebastian's like any other port town in the world: you can learn all there is to know by going to a bar or two, asking leading questions, and then listening. We spent Monday nosing around some more and then, that night, slipped away. Tuesday morning we found this place, and here we are. But not,” he finished grimly, “for long.”

Adriana sat up and combed out her hair with her fingers. “I still think you'll be better off waiting for—”

“I told you—”

“No, let me finish,” she insisted. “Vincent is having a masked ball Tuesday night. Why,” she asked pointedly, “fight your way past the guards when you can walk in by invitation?”

“By invitation, huh?” Dubious, he tried to envision the scene, and found himself liking what he saw. “Maybe.” He rose and paced back and forth across the clearing. “Have to find some decent clothes, of course … get inside and … stay there!” he snapped suddenly, and disappeared around the wall of roots.

Frightened by his tone and acutely aware of her nudity, Adriana reached for her skirt and was just stepping into it when Tom reappeared. “Whatever—?”

“They're looking for you. Hurry.”

They dressed quickly and in silence, plunged into the forest along the broken path they'd followed earlier. “I'll tell them I fell asleep,” Adriana said, stopping just short of the glade with the gazebo. “I'll get away tomorrow afternoon sometime and bring you a diagram of the house. Do I look all right?”

“A little disheveled, but otherwise …” He stopped and plucked a twig from her hair. “I love you, Adriana. In the boat … all I could think of was that I hadn't told you that I loved you.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. Her fingers trembling, Adriana reached out to touch the amulet nestled against his chest. “Thomas, Thomas,” she whispered, embracing him, not wanting to leave him.

Tom's heart swelled with the fullness that only love can bring. He was ten feet tall, as strong as a dozen men. All things were possible. No one could stop him. “Just don't tell me you knew already,” he said gruffly. “That you heard it in a dream.”

“I won't,” Adriana promised, her smile a secret against his chest.

“A man likes to have a surprise or two to spring on his woman now and again.”

“I know. A woman, too.” She looked up and, her eyes glistening, touched his cheek. “I love you, Thomas. I have for a long time now.”

Far down the path, a man's voice called her name.

“Tomorrow?” Tom asked, holding back a branch so she could pass.

“Tomorrow. Be careful.”

“I will.” She was gone, running across the glade, pausing to wave to him before she started down the path. Alone, Tom wondered about the future, and hoped he'd never have to watch her walk away from him again. Then he turned and disappeared into the forest.

CHAPTER XX

The fire was small, barely large enough to cast a dim light and keep a pot of water at a low boil. Maurice, Topaz, and Sanchez had spent the day finishing a deadfall that would effectively block the narrow trail they'd take on their flight around The Sleeping Giant. Tom had spent part of the afternoon with Adriana, the rest keeping an eye on the governor's mansion and dozing so he could stand watch during the night.

“I feel better,” Maurice said, adding a monstrous belch for emphasis. “Gotta admit you were right, Topaz. Hate to think of old Slurry having to stay aboard ship and make his meal of biscuits and salt pork.”

“Iguana good meat,” Topaz grunted sleepily.

Sanchez wiped his hands on his breeches and took a pull from a jug of rum. “Damn land,” he wheezed. “The best thing about the ocean is that there are no damn trees and no damn rocks. Shit.”

“You talk too much,” Maurice rumbled. He looked across the fire at Tom. “You gonna tell us what we're gonna do, or not?”

Tom reached inside his shirt and pulled out a piece of paper. “A diagram of the house,” he said by way of preamble. “We go in Tuesday night at that party. Or I do, anyway, and here's how.

“The party begins at eight. Dinner will be served at nine-thirty. At nine, Bliss will be summoned to Sir Theodotus's study to hear the charges against him and to be placed under arrest. At the same time, LeBusque will be lured outside by a messenger and arrested. Shortly after that, without anyone at the ball knowing what's happening, they'll be placed in irons aboard a merchant ship which will sail on the midnight tide.”

“So what's all that have to do with us?” Maurice asked.

“You two,” he said, nodding at Maurice and Sanchez, “will wait until dark and then work your way down to the tree line and find a good place to wait and watch near the entrance to the path that leads to the gazebo. By that time, Topaz and I will be waiting outside the house of a fellow named John Pelty, who's a ship's chandler and the assistant harbor master. He's a bachelor, he lives alone, and, bad luck for him, he's about my height and build. When he leaves for the ball, Topaz and I will take him and his servant, switch clothes, tie them up, and go in their places.

“Now, here's where the diagram comes in.” He held up the paper, pointed to the northeast corner of the mansion. “This is the study. I'll be waiting outside on the verandah, and as soon as Bliss has been taken away, in I go and take Sir Theodotus. The boys' room is right above the study. Adriana, Sir Theodotus, and I go upstairs and get the boys. You, Topaz, will be out here on the south lawn with the rest of the servants. As soon as we have the boys, Adriana will signal from the corner window. We're going to give you five minutes, then you'll start a fire in the carriage house, spook as many of the horses as you can, and then make your way around to the back of the house, where we'll meet you. From then on, it's just as we talked about earlier. Up the path to the gazebo, through the forest to the trail, to the deadfall, which we trip just in case anyone's following us, and on to the cove, where we'll row out to the
Red Dog Song
, which by that time Slurry will have in deep water.”

His companions stared at Tom, at the diagram of the house and grounds, back at Tom. “Just like that, huh?” Maurice asked, dumbfounded. “You mind tellin' me what happens if—”

“You have a better plan?” Tom snapped.

“Well …” Maurice looked around for support. Topaz was near sleep. Sanchez was busy honing his knife against the side of his boot. “C'mon, Onofre. Hell, you're the pirate. What's a good pirate plan for gettin' them boys?”

“Sounds like a fine plan to me,” Sanchez said with a shrug. He sheathed his knife, stretched, and yawned. “After all,” he added, lying down and closing his eyes after a long day's work, “he's the one who has to go in the house.”

The Sleeping Giant rumbled angrily, and belched a cloud of yellow-gray smoke that the wind carried out to sea.

“He will sleep again now,” Carlotta said, nodding wisely.

Bliss turned away from the window, then strolled to his desk and the open journal that lay there. “And just how do you know that?” he asked.

“It is the Giant's way.”

“I fervently hope so.” He looked up as the sound of the front door knocker echoed through the house. “See who that is and have him wait in the front parlor. I'll be out as soon as I finish dressing.”