Silver Storm (The Raveneau Novels #1) (38 page)

"That again!" he laughed.

"Andre—about my leaving the island—" Devon
shifted upward, resting her cheek against the hard muscles of his
arm to meet his gaze. "I went with Morgan because I felt that
Louisa needed you more than we did. I love that child, and it hurts
me that you've turned away from her. Please—"

"Devon, Louisa is fine. The matter is
settled."

"The 'matter'! You call the heart of a little
girl a 'matter'?"

"Do you want to fight again, or will you
trust me as I trust you?"

She swallowed a painful sigh. "All right. I
will trust you."

"You say those words as if I forced them out
with torture." Raveneau's face grew harsh again as he slid his arm
free and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Neither spoke
while he buttoned his shirt and reached for his boots.

There was a knock at the door. Raveneau got
up to open it, leaving her to grapple with her twisted, unfastened
gown.

"Bonjour, ma citrouille!"
he
exclaimed.

Devon looked up in curious surprise, just in
time to hear a well-loved giggle.

"I told you a hundred times—don't call me a
pumpkin!" Little arms reached out and Raveneau hoisted the little
girl into his arms.

"You just couldn't wait, could you?" he
teased, turning toward the bed. "Didn't I tell you that I would
come and get you
later?"

"Devon!" squealed Louisa. She threw herself
out of Andre's arms and dove into Devon's embrace. Over the child's
shoulder Devon could see Raveneau, one black brow arched
grimly.

"Louisa, what a surprise!" she said. "You are
a lucky girl, getting to sail on the
Black Eagle
with your
papa!"

"I know! It's really fun! And you were right
about my papa. He's wonderful!"

"Of course he is."

"Would you like to meet him? Wait—" She
scrambled off the bed. "I'll be right back."

Devon was still staring in shock, afraid to
look at Raveneau's face, when Louisa reappeared in the doorway,
clutching the hand of a flustered Halsey Minter.

* * *

"I cannot believe it," Devon breathed. "Why
didn't I see it before?" She was alone in the cabin; Raveneau had
accompanied Minter to discuss "a few minor matters."

When Halsey Minter had come in, taken a chair
at Raveneau's invitation, and scooped Louisa into his lap, the
sight of their two faces side by side had been incredible. Louisa's
ginger hair was a shade less fiery than her father's, but her eyes,
face shape, and expressions were identical.

Minter was a smitten man. He and Louisa had
seemed to be off in a private world of their own, whispering jokes,
hugging, even tickling each other from time to time. When he met
Devon's eyes he’d given her a boyish smile that lit up the
cabin.

Raveneau returned now, lingering in the
doorway to observe Devon's pensive profile. It was an amazing day;
all the emotions that he had buried for years had come to the
surface... and Raveneau's relief was immeasurable. Crossing the
cabin, he sat down beside Devon and she nestled against him. A slim
arm attempted to reach around his back as she smiled up, touching
his sleek hair with her other hand.

One side of Raveneau's mouth twitched. "Are
you glad to see me, perhaps?"

"Ecstatic. Am I too forward?
Overpowering?"

He grinned lazily. "Overpowering... yes,
that's the word. I surrender."

He bent to kiss her, but Devon put her hand
over his lips. "Wait. I wonder how Mouette is."

"Sleeping. Treasel has promised to bring her
in as soon as she awakens."

"She'll be hungry soon."

"Hungry? What do you suppose we can feed
her?"

Devon giggled. "I carry her meals wherever I
go! Oh, my, are you blushing? It's hard to tell under that swarthy
complexion, but I actually do believe—"

Slate-gray eyes narrowed. "You try my
patience,
petite chatte."

"I know." She beamed. "And see how you have
distracted me! I have been consumed with curiosity about Minter and
Louisa! Please, tell me how—when—everything."

Raveneau smiled as she snuggled her head
against his shoulder, and idly caressed her curls as he spoke.

"When we arrived at the island two nights
ago, Eugenie was in prime form. I was surprised and annoyed to see
her, but after I found you gone and read your letter, I became
quite disagreeable. Ah, 'savage' was the word Eugenie used, as I
recall..." He smothered a grin. "When she produced Louisa and
rattled off her story, I was certain, in my gut, that she was
lying, but no matter what I said or did, she wouldn't admit it.
Minter won the day. He came down after unpacking my things and saw
and heard enough to know what the situation was. Louisa had fallen
asleep in the salon, but as soon as he got a look at her, he came
to me and exposed Eugenie."

"Hurry up!"

"Well, between Minter and Eugenie, I pieced
the story together. It seems that six years ago, on the island,
Eugenie was certain she had me snagged, but when I suddenly escaped
her trap, she and Souchet—her
dear father,
as now I
know—

concocted this scheme. They rushed out to
find someone to make her pregnant. To avoid her, I had moved onto
the privateer the last few nights before we sailed, and Minter was
left to collect my clothing from the house. He was only sixteen
then, and easily seduced by a viper like Eugenie. I assume that she
recruited more volunteers during the next weeks until she was
positive of the child, but it would seem that Minter had beginner's
luck!"

"But
why
would she do such a
thing?"

"For me!" Raveneau's exclamation was heavy
with sarcasm. "She returned to France, then England, gave birth,
and bided her time until the opportunity presented itself to
introduce me to my 'child.' She tried to tell me the other night
that she had been pregnant when I left, but didn't know it herself
until she was back in Europe. Ironically, that
is
true,
barely, but of course, I was not the father."

"And now that her plan has failed?"

"Minter and I convinced her to give him a
turn as a parent. As much as I hated to, I gave her funds to tide
her over, and will arrange for a Europe-bound ship to stop for her.
Of course, she made a great show of maternal tragedy, but she
agreed to see how things work out these next months. I would wager
this privateer that Eugenie finds a wealthy husband and we never
hear from her again—and that Minter and Louisa live happily ever
after!"

"What will Minter do? He can't stay
here!"

"He isn't certain. After we are in port, he
plans to take Louisa to Virginia for a visit with her grandparents,
and I suppose that he'll reach a decision about the future
then."

"Oh, Andre, won't Azalea be thrilled when she
returns! She'll adore Louisa!"

"Everyone does." His mouth drifted along
Devon's chin, then over her throat until she shuddered in
reaction.

"Excuse me—Captain?" Treasel stood in the
doorway with a tiny bundle in his arms. “I changed her nappie;
she’s clean and dry.”

"Mouette!" Devon cried. Raveneau stood up and
accepted the tiny infant almost warily. Devon suppressed a grin at
the sight of his bemused face. "She's not going to break! Come over
here. She must be famished."

Mouette looked smaller than ever in
Raveneau's arms, and she wriggled about, uneasy with the way he
held her so stiffly. When they reached the bed, Devon prompted,
"Andre, cuddle her a little! Hold her against your chest and smile
at her!"

He sat down and regarded the baby with more
than a trace of suspicion. "When I think about it, Devon, your
story is remarkably similar to Eugenie's. Why have I swallowed it
so agreeably?"

"Because you trust me."

"Oh, yes. Of course."

The baby was clad in a long gown of layered
ivory batiste embroidered with petite green. A soft, knitted
bonnet, tied coquettishly under the chin, covered most of her
feathery black hair.

"Well? Isn't she beautiful?"

Mouette opened her eyes wide at the sound of
her mother's voice, but focused them on Raveneau. They were a clear
shade of blue-gray, as though the parents' eyes had been mixed to
an exact blend. Slowly, he extended a long, tanned finger and
touched a lock of black hair, then the curve of Mouette's cheek and
nose. When it brushed her mouth, she seized it and began to
suck.

"What the devil is she doing?"

Devon laughed. "She's hungry. Perhaps you'd
better hand her over."

"Look! She raised her eyebrow at me! How can
she do that?"

"Her father's daughter," Devon explained
sagely.

He stared as she unfastened her bodice and
fit Mouette into the curve of her arm. The baby began to nurse. The
swell of emotion in his chest was alarming, totally unlike anything
he had ever felt before. On top of his declaration of love and
trust for Devon, this helpless, entrancing infant was nearly more
than he could cope with in one day.

The tiny hand was curved in a fist of
pleasure, fluttering on the side of Devon's breast. To his horror,
Raveneau felt a tear sting his eyes. "It is difficult to
comprehend—my
daughter,"
he whispered.

Devon glanced up at the husky note in his
voice. Her heart thudded wildly when she saw the telltale glint in
his silver eyes, but she only smiled. "Mouette is a miracle of
love. She was born so early... but I was certain that she would be
charmed—like you."

Standing up abruptly, Raveneau announced, "I
think I need a drink. Will you join me?"

"Only a drop."

He splashed cognac into two snifters and
returned to the bed. Handing one to Devon, he then pulled up the
wing chair and sat down. "To us,
petite chatte."
He lifted
his glass a fraction and cast an eye at Mouette. "I know she would
join us were she not so greedy."

Devon smiled and took a tiny sip of cognac,
closing her eyes briefly against the almost unbearable surge of joy
that flushed her cheeks.

While her eyes were closed, Louisa appeared
in the doorway and waved to Raveneau, then vanished. "Ah... when
Mouette is finished," he said, "I thought we might take her for a
stroll on deck—show her around a bit."

"She would love it!" Devon approved,
switching the baby to the other side. "Just a few more
minutes."

While they waited, Raveneau made idle
conversation about the British merchant ship they had taken the day
before, after leaving the island. Most of the crew had gone with it
back to New London, which accounted for the small show of force
when they had boarded Morgan's ketch.

Then he rose and retucked his shirt more
neatly into the buff breeches, then found a cravat and tied it with
expert speed. "You might like to rearrange your hair."

Slightly surprised, Devon gave Mouette to her
father and fastened her bodice again, then went to the shaving
stand. She did look rather disheveled, but certainly happy! Her
eyes had never sparkled so, nor had her cheeks looked so lovely
while flushed. She quickly pulled the remaining pins from her
strawberry-blond curls and let them tumble down her back. A few
smoothing flicks with the comb and she turned to smile at Raveneau,
who was shrugging into an amber coat, switching Mouette from arm to
arm.

"I'm ready!"

His eyes were soft. "You look exactly like
the girl I met in Nicholson's library." Arching an eyebrow at her
bosom, he added, "With a few minor improvements."

"Minor!" Devon laughed. Raveneau caught her
hand, held it tightly, and together the trio went into the gangway.
As they reached the open hatch, Devon could hear the rumble of
voices from the brig below. "How many prisoners are there?"

"A dozen, perhaps. Actually, I think they're
rather enjoying this. Our food is much better than what they have
been eating the last few months."

He took Mouette up first, then leaned down to
help Devon, causing her to think of all the times she had climbed
through the hatch without so much as a glance from him.

"I cannot believe this is the same devil who
once threatened to toss me overboard!" she whispered, amused.

Raveneau smiled ironically. "Neither can
I."

She looked around then and found the
remaining two dozen crewmen assembled on deck. Each man had combed
his hair and slipped a new eelskin over his queue. Their faces were
clean; flat-brimmed hats were clutched nervously over their
bellies, and several sported bright, freshly washed
neckerchiefs.

"What are all of you doing?" Devon asked,
unused to seeing them so sober-looking. None answered, though
Wheaton's faded blue eyes twinkled in a broad wink.

Minter came up through the hatch. Someone
handed up a beautifully gowned Louisa, and then another man
appeared. He was tall, with a nose like a rudder, but his smile was
infectious.

"Devon Lindsay," Minter said, smiling, "may I
present Captain Silas Longheart."

"How do you do, Captain?" Her eyes rested
curiously on his gold-trimmed blue uniform and the red sash that
crossed his chest.

"The pleasure is mine, I assure you, Miss
Lindsay!"

"Captain Longheart joined us yesterday,"
Raveneau said casually, studying Mouette's tiny head on his
shoulder.

"I don't understand!" Devon said.

Some of the men had begun to grin. She was a
fetching little chit after all! Just the one for their captain.

"Devon," cautioned Raveneau, struggling to
repress laughter, "please do not make a scene—especially on the
occasion of our wedding."

She caught his sleeve for balance, choking
audibly. "Oh... oh...
cruel!
You couldn't warn me? I—"

"You are not pleased by my surprise? You wish
me to send Captain Longheart back to the brig?"