The Sea Hawk (7 page)

Julia jumped at the thunderous report of Simone's pistol. The impact struck Marcel in the chest killing him instantly. The blue-gray haze of spent gunpowder drifted up and around Simone's head. Julia's hand flew to her mouth and she turned away. Calmly replacing the pistol in her waistband, Simone turned in a slow circle looking for further signs of disobedience from members of her crew.

"My orders
will not
be disobeyed!" Simone said, her voice strong and clear. "Archambault! Finish searching this ship and dispose of that," she ordered, nodding to the bloody figure next to Kitty. "We leave."

Two nervous-looking men stepped forward, each grabbing one of Marcel's arms. They dragged the lifeless form toward the ship's railing while Simone offered Kitty her hand. "My apologies,
Mademoiselle
. Are you a servant?"

"I am Lady Kent's maid," Kitty said, straightening her clothing.

"I could kill you as well and end this disagreement now," Simone said with a smile.

"Then do it," Kitty dared as she faced Simone.

"No, Kitty!" Julia said, grabbing the maid's arm and pulling her back.

"She is a brave woman," Simone said to Julia. She pointed to a handsome young man standing nearby.

"Anton, escort these two to
Le Faucon
. Lock them in the hold until we are under way," she ordered as she strode away.

Simone glanced back at the two women as they moved across the deck.

"We cannot take those women with us,
Faucon
," Archambault said as he joined her.

"Why not?" she asked, appreciatively watching the blonde with the unusually short hair.

"It will create trouble for us unnecessarily," he frowned. "The men have not been in port for too long."

"You cannot be serious, Henri," Simone said with a deep throaty laugh. "Tell the crew the women are under my personal protection," Simone said. "If anyone touches them, they shall answer to me."

"Does that include you as well,
Faucon
?"

Simone moved closer to Archambault. Her eyes narrowed. "Do not presume that because you are my second in command you have the right to question what I do, Archambault," Simone retorted.

"The British will be hunting for us because of these women," Henri reasoned.

"We will release them as soon as we reach a port where we can drop them off without any danger to us," Simone said with an unconcerned shrug.

Unhappy, Henri grunted as he walked away. "Lower the long boats!" he ordered.

Chapter Five

"I CANNOT BELIEVE you practically forced that woman to take you," Julia fumed as she paced in the small room. "She could have murdered you as well as that poor man."

"It seemed a more prudent choice than floating around in a very small boat with a very large woman such as Lady Kent." Kitty chuckled. "Besides, Anton is quite an attractive gentleman, is he not?"

"You should remember that he is a pirate, not a gentleman," Julia reminded her. "What was it he called his sister?"

"
Faucon
, or something like that. What does it mean?"

Julia walked to a small porthole in the cabin and peered out. "It means falcon or hawk. A bird of prey." And just as lethal as the woman herself. Night was falling rapidly, shooting the sky overhead with gray and pink clouds. Julia looked around and saw a candle and matches on a small corner table. She struck a match and smelled the strong odor of sulfur assault her nose as the small flame from the flickering candle illuminated the damp, musty smelling room they were locked in. Julia hated small places. She wasn't claustrophobic, but hated her inability to move around freely and investigate her surroundings.

"Where do you think we are going?" Kitty asked as she stretched out on a cot.

"Who the hell knows?" Julia mumbled. "Wherever pirates go, I suppose." It was her second encounter with pirates and so far this one didn't seem to be much of an improvement over the first one.

Julia and Kitty heard footsteps coming down the ladder into the hold not long after darkness engulfed the ship. Both sat up quickly on their cots and waited, glancing back and forth between the door and one another. It wasn't until a middle-aged man unlocked and swung the door open that Julia realized she was holding her breath.

"
Suivez moi
," he ordered, motioning to them to follow him.

Silently Julia climbed out of the hold followed by Kitty, refusing the man's hand when he offered it to assist her onto the deck. The night sky looked as vast as the ocean, and seemingly shot through with thousands of twinkling diamonds resting on an endless black velvet cushion. Julia took a deep breath of the sea air to rejuvenate after the time spent in the warm and stuffy hold. The man motioned for them to continue following him past a number of men who looked appreciatively at the two women. Stopping in front of a door beneath the wheel deck, the man rapped it firmly.

"
Entrez
," a woman's voice responded. The man opened the door and stood aside as Julia and Kitty tentatively entered the captain's quarters. The wooden walls and floors gleamed like burnished copper from the lanterns illuminating the cabin. The woman they called
Faucon
was seated at a desk writing when they entered and turned briefly to glance at them. "
Merci
, Francois. You may go."

Julia glanced around the room, surprised at its warmth. A sturdy piece of furniture resembling a modern-day platform bed stood against the starboard wall beneath an open porthole, allowing the cooler evening breeze into the room.
No doubt to cool the captain following a passionate interlude
. Julia was shocked when the thought entered her mind and was sure she was blushing. On either side of the desk were a bookcase and a chest of drawers. A large table spread with maps and charts occupied the space in the middle of the room. A bottle of wine and crystal goblets were arranged on a tray on one side of the table. A porcelain bathtub took up a portion of the portside wall. If she hadn't already been impressed by the height and slender figure of the ship's captain before, Julia was now. She closed the journal she was writing in and pushed away from the desk. Light golden eyes took in Julia and Kitty as she strode to the table in the middle of the room and opened the bottle. "Wine?" she asked quietly.

While both women were thirsty, Julia declined, much to Kitty's chagrin. Pouring two glasses of wine the woman handed one to Kitty, who looked at the glass longingly and then back at Julia, who frowned disapprovingly.

"Does she speak for you,
Mademoiselle
?" the woman asked in accented English.

"Well, I...," Kitty began.

"Are you her servant?"

"I am a maid, ma'am."

"There are no servants on my ship," the captain said as she set the glass down within Kitty's reach and shifted her eyes to Julia.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I have shown a regrettable lack of manners. I am Simone Moreau and you are guests, albeit reluctant ones, on my vessel,
Le Faucon de Mer
. What is your name?" Simone asked, looking at Julia over her wine glass as she took a sip.

"Doc...um...Julia Blanchard," Julia answered, deciding it would only lead to more questions if she used her educational title. "This is my friend, Kitty Longmire. When will we be released?"

"Soon. Please be seated," Simone said softly as she lowered her long body onto a wooden chair at the table.

"We will stand, thank you," Julia said stiffly. There was something disconcerting about the woman and Julia felt self-conscious under her steady gaze.

"The British are a stubborn lot, are they not?" Simone said to Kitty, smiling slightly. "But you are not British, unless I am mistaken."

"Irish," Kitty said.

"If anything happens to Lord and Lady Kent I will see that you are hunted down and convicted like the common criminal you are," Julia blurted out.

Chuckling, Simone said, "Certainly something has already happened to your friends, but as you can see, I am still free. The true reason I asked to see you was to apologize for my earlier behavior. It was a necessary action to demonstrate my authority to my crew. I meant no offense by my actions."

"I am sorry, Miss Moreau, but I cannot accept your apology," Julia replied. The kiss had been a surprise, but not the crushingly brutal attack she might have imagined. In fact, she found it to be amazingly soft and gentle. Under much different circumstances, Julia would have sought more.

"A captain must keep her crew happy to assure their loyalty. If they believe I am interested in you as a conquest, they would not dare to bother you. However, if it would make you happy I can still give you and
Mademoiselle
Longmire to them. They are good men, but alas, they are just men."

"Like that poor man you murdered this afternoon?" Julia sneered.

"He failed to obey my order," Simone said. Turning to Kitty she asked, "Would you have preferred I allow Marcel to strike you a second time?"

Kitty brought a hand up to touch the still-tender skin of her cheek. "No, but there must have been a more humane way."

Setting her glass on the table, Simone stood and took a step closer to the two women. "Perhaps I should take a lesson from your British friends. I could have tied him to a mast, stripped his shirt off, and bloodied his back with thirty lashes. Marcel is dead because he failed to control his emotions. He could have lingered for weeks in excruciating pain only to eventually die of infection. But I can understand how you might consider such a lashing more humane."

Julia could see the dark anger building in Simone's eyes as she spoke. The captain snapped her head sharply in Julia's direction. "Is that what you would have preferred?"

Before Julia could respond, their discussion was interrupted as the cabin door opened. A boy of around ten with deeply tanned skin entered the cabin. He flashed a wide, white toothy smile as he walked toward Simone and set a platter on the table in front of her. Simone smiled warmly at the boy, who went to her and kissed her lightly on the lips. "
Merci
, Joaquin,
mon petit chou
," Simone said as she hugged him. Julia couldn't conceal a smile at the endearment as she watched Simone's arms encircle the child.

"You are welcome,
mon Faucon
," Joaquin grinned.

A moment later, a stunning woman with skin the color of mocha coffee and shiny black hair falling in waves over her shoulders entered Simone's cabin. She was dressed in a simple dark green skirt and light yellow peasant blouse, the scooped neckline revealing ample cleavage. A silver, hand-tooled belt encircled her waist. Pushing her way between the two women rather than go around them, she moved next to Simone. She leaned down and kissed her, sliding her hand seductively across the captain's shoulders. Julia felt a niggling wave of jealousy creep along her spine at the intimacy between the two women. When the kiss ended, the woman looked pointedly at Julia, letting her know Simone Moreau belonged to someone and was off limits. Seeing the woman's face clearly for the first time, Julia was convinced she was in the midst of an elaborate hallucination or dream. Otherwise, there was no reason Halle Berry would be making an appearance. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and shook her head slightly. Only the captain's voice drew her back to her current reality.

"Joaquin, please ask Anton to join us in a few minutes,
s'il te plait
," Simone said. The boy smiled and nodded, bowing toward Julia and Kitty slightly as he prepared to leave.

"Please, take some food," Simone offered as her eyes drifted down the length of Julia's body. "It will do no one good if you attempt to starve yourselves until we reach a port where I shall set you free to rejoin your friends."

SIMONE SAT DOWN once again at her desk to complete her nightly journal entry. Each day she carefully noted everything of interest that happened on board
Le Faucon de Mer
for no other reason than to keep track of her time. The brigantine had been her home for nearly seventeen years, since the day she and Anton fled their home on Montserrat and were duped by its captain, Louis Rochat. The old pirate took their money and then stole three years of Simone's life before she found the strength to steal his ship. She learned everything she could about the sea and how to read it before cutting his throat and claiming
Le Faucon
and its crew as her own. Her hatred of the British remade her into a driven woman, intent on revenge for the loss of her family's home on the tiny former French island in the Caribbean, and the loss of her own innocence. She became a murderer to survive.

As she dipped her pen into the inkwell to continue writing, warm arms slid down her shoulders and loosely enclosed her. "You look tired, my falcon," Esperanza whispered.

"I am growing weary of the constant movement from place to place," Simone said as she wrote. Esperanza and her son had been with her since the day she rescued them from a loathsome man in New Orleans who believed he owned them as he would have owned livestock. Simone watched as he beat the defiant Esperanza and followed them. His fatal mistake was in believing the tall, dark-haired woman was attracted to him. When her dagger slid effortlessly between his ribs, she watched impassively as life faded from his eyes. Although she and Esperanza became lovers not long afterward, she knew her affections were initially given out of gratitude. In the four years they had been together Simone had enjoyed the physical satisfaction Esperanza gave her. But while her lover's feelings had grown almost to the point of possessiveness, Simone knew she was not in love with the woman who willingly shared her bed.

"Perhaps we should rest at Martinique for a while," Esperanza suggested. "You love it there with your horses."

"Yes, I do miss them." Simone smiled thinking of the powerful Arabians flying across the sandy beaches and green meadows of her adopted island. Frowning, she said, "But I must take the two English women safely to a neutral port."