The Duke's Lady (Historical Romance - The Ladies Series)

by Jernigan, Brenda

  The short carriage ride took her directly to the middle of town. Jewel instructed the driver to wait, informing him she would be right back.

  When she entered the jail, the sergeant in charge seemed reluctant to let her see Pierre. However, when Jewel informed him she had just come from Governor Claiborne’s, and she’d be most happy to go back and get the governor, he changed his mind and let her in.

  “You only have five minutes. Make it quick,” the sergeant grumbled as he turned the key, allowing her entrance. She was thankful that he was leaving them alone.

  Pierre didn’t move at the sound of the jingling keys. He had a visitor, but her shadowed face meant nothing to him, so he waited for the jailor to let her into the cell. He wondered what tricks that nasty Claiborne had up his sleeve.

  “You wish to see me, mademoiselle? ” he said, his French accent thick.

  She hesitantly moved into the light where he could see her, then said, “Uncle Pierre.”

  He came to his feet. “Are my eyes playing tricks on me, my love?” His soft-spoken words held a note of disbelief.

  “I’m really here,” she choked out before she embraced Pierre, laying her head on his shoulder.

  “Jean was right.” Pierre held her away from him, looking at her once again. “You’re alive! But where have you been, and why haven’t you contacted us?”

  Blushing bright red, she proceeded to tell him about her memory loss, and all about Adam. She held nothing back this time.

  Pierre smiled. “I would like to meet this husband of yours.”

  Jewel had been careful not to tell her uncle her last name, fearing that Uncle Jean might come after her. She didn’t want to see Adam hurt—or her uncles. “You will meet him, but first I have to tell him about you and Jean.”

  “Ah, you’re ashamed of us, petite? ”

  “No, Uncle Pierre! How can you say that?” She frowned. “It’s just that—that you both are unusual. Even you have to admit, you’re not like the local people around here.”

  Pierre chuckled. “Oui, I suppose our trade is a little different. Yet we are very prosperous.”

  “It’s just that . . . well ... I was thrust upon Adam without his having any say-so in the matter. He did marry me, and I believe he cares, but I must be sure of his love.” She searched her uncle’s face for understanding. “Every time we’re together for a little while, I start to build my courage to tell him. Then he is called off to do something with the general, and we have to start all over again.” Jewel sighed. “Please understand. I’m not sure I’ve explained it very well.”

  "Oui, petite, I do. And I think you worry too much. If he loves you, he’ll not turn you away. He is the one who should worry. If Jean doesn’t like him, he’ll simply run him through.” Pierre threw up his hand in a simple swordsman’s gesture as his musical laughter rang out in the small area.

  “I guess you’ve always been the calm one,” Jewel admitted. “Listen.” She reached out and grabbed his arm. “The guard is coming. Is there something I can do for you?” The footsteps kept advancing. “How will you get out?”

  “My love.” Pierre hugged her, then whispered in her ear so no one else could hear. “Do you really think Jean would leave me in here for long?”

  Jewel looked at him. His smile told all. She kissed him on the cheek and ran to the coach, wasting little time in getting back to the party.

  In the shadows, Adam stood outside the jail and waited for his carriage and wife to leave before crossing the street. Why would she be down here?

  Well, he’d soon find out!

  When he entered the building, the desk sergeant had his back to him, pouring a cup of coffee.

  “Who did that lady come to see?” Adam said in a harsh voice.

  “And what business is that of yours?” the sergeant replied without turning to face him.

  “I’ll not repeat myself,” Adam growled.

  The sergeant spun and choked on the hot liquid once his gaze locked with the black eyes that were now piercing his. It took several moments before he could speak.

  “Mr. Trent! My apologies, sir. I didn’t know it was you. The lady came to see Pierre Lafitte.” He chuckled, raising his brow. “Probably one of his wenches.”

  That statement didn’t please Adam worth a damn. And it was all he could do not to smash in the man’s face. But then, the guard was just doing his duty. It was his friend in the next room Adam really wanted to hit. “Take me to him.”

  Why would she want to see Pierre? And how could Jewel possibly know him? All these questions tumbled through Adam’s mind when he stepped into the cell, reminding him once again that he knew nothing about his wife.

  “What? More company?” Pierre looked up and smiled when he saw Adam. “It’s been a long time, old friend. I’m sorry you had to see me in here.” Pierre gestured for Adam to sit down.

  “I’m not so sure if . . .” Adam paused as he realized he was thinking out loud. He’d get the facts first. “Pierre, it’s good to see old friends anytime, and I guess anyplace, but in my opinion you should not be in here,” Adam said truthfully. “But the reason I came has nothing to do with you being held prisoner. Would you like to tell me why my wife came to see you?”

  “Your wife hasn’t been to see me, my friend.” Pierre looked shocked when he placed his hand on his chest. “I didn’t even know you were married.”

  “You didn’t just have a visit from a young lady?” Adam questioned.

  “Oui, my niece was here.” Pierre’s eyes snapped up. “My God, Adam! You’re the Adam she spoke of! ” Waves of laughter followed Pierre’s statement as he held his middle.

  Adam found nothing amusing about this situation, and he was getting ready to say so when it dawned on him what Pierre had said. “Niece. Your niece?"

  Why hadn’t he put everything together a long time ago? The accent, the fencing, her extensive knowledge about ships. And he’d wanted to know what boarding school she’d attended. “It’s good to know Jewel sees fit to tell you about me. However, she hasn’t bothered to tell me anything about you.”

  “A moment, please.” Pierre stiffened. “Don’t get your feathers ruffled, my friend.” He grew serious. “Jewel is afraid to tell you that she’s been raised in a very unconventional environment. Or by pirates, if you prefer. For some strange reason, she thinks you’ll hate her.” Pierre laughed again at his dumbfounded new nephew. “Wait until Jean finds out.”

  “Jean!” Adam laughed, too. “That is the uncle Jewel always referred to.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t put this all together when the truth has been all around me. Why, Jean and I even talked about her in an indirect way. He was talking about his niece, and I was talking about my wife. What a fool I’ve been.”

  “Are you going to say anything to her?” Pierre asked.

  “No. Though I’ll admit I’m angry that Jewel hasn’t trusted me enough to tell me the truth. I’ll wait until she divulges her secret.”

  “Be patient, my friend. Jewel has never been around men such as yourself. She is very naive when it comes to such things. Jean and I probably sheltered her way too much. Just give her time.”

  “My God, man. I am her husband! She should trust me!” Adam said, letting his irritation show.

  Pierre got to his feet. “Promise me you’ll have some patience.”

  “I’ll try. But I will not make a promise I might not keep.” It was the only concession Adam could make.

  “At least you’re an honest man. Just remember, she is our niece.” Pierre chuckled. “You and Jean, kin . . . what a pair! ”

  Later that night Pierre had more visitors, ones he was especially glad to see. Jean’s men broke Pierre out of prison, and Pierre was forced into hiding until things calmed down. Unfortunately, Pierre would have to wait to tell Jean about finding Jewel.

  Jewel hurried up the steps and peeked into the ballroom. Looking quickly around the room for Adam and not finding him, she went off to freshen up and calm he
r flushed face.

  When she entered the main drawing room, she noticed Adam talking with Jackson, and she headed over to them.

  “If I’ve not told you, Adam,” the general said, “I will do so now. Your wife is stunning, and she has completely captivated me.”

  Jewel blushed.

  “It seems she has that effect on people. Thank you, Andrew,” Adam said, acknowledging the compliment. “Not many men can trust their wives. I’m so glad mine is honest.”

  What a strange comment, Jewel thought, but said nothing, thinking her husband sounded a bit irritated.

  “You’re right about that, Adam.” Jackson turned his attention back to Jewel. “I hope you will not think harsh of me for taking your husband once again, Mrs. Trent. I’m going to be needing him more now, so I’m afraid you’ll not be seeing Adam very much.”

  “So soon?” Jewel asked, feeling the disappointment as it flooded her body. She watched the men shake their heads yes before she said, “No, General, I’ll not hold it against you. The job has to be done.” But she wanted to say, “How will I ever get to really know my husband?”

  “Good, spoken like a real soldier’s wife.”

  On the way home, Adam’s irritation burned like a hot coal. “Sweetheart, have you ever noticed your accent is so much like the people of New Orleans? Do you suppose it’s possible you came from here?” Adam watched her closely, waiting for her reply. Many emotions filtered across her face. He only wanted the truth.

  Jewel blinked. Now was the time to tell him. She opened her mouth to speak . . . she hesitated . . . then lost the struggle. What if she lost him? Couldn’t he just say he loved her no matter who she was? “Yes, it’s possible. However, I could be French, the accent is so similar.” Coward, she chided herself. Would she ever tell him?

  Damn, Adam thought. He wanted to shake her. He had given her a chance, and again she’d avoided the truth. Damn it all, he didn’t like Jewel lying to him. He loved her. Couldn’t she see that and trust him?

  A cold silence settled around them as neither said a word the rest of the way home. When they reached Four Oaks, Adam packed his bag.

  “I’m leaving tonight.” He turned to look at Jewel as she stood behind him, watching.

  “But I thought it wouldn’t be until tomorrow.”

  “My plans have changed,” he answered gruffly. He started to pick up his bag and leave, but the expression on her face stopped him. He swore to himself, put the bag down, then pulled her into his arms.

  Adam struggled with his emotions. But in the end he did leave, not giving in to the temptation to stay. This was better than losing his temper with her, and he had many things to sort through his mind. Maybe when this battle was over, they could sit down and talk, but right now he’d have to stay focused on what lay ahead. All of New Orleans could be in danger.

  After Adam left, Jewel cried herself to sleep. His hug had been strange. It had felt so final, as if he’d never return. She should have told him. Why didn’t she tell him the truth? Jewel scolded herself.

  She hadn’t even told him she loved him.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Now was Jean’s chance.

  His attorney arranged a meeting with Jackson. Jean had heard that the general was having a hard time doing his job with what he’d been given. “So, why not sweeten the deal to my advantage?” he said out loud, then laughed as he dismounted from his white stallion, tied the reins, then climbed the steps of a secluded cabin.

  He knocked on the door and upon hearing “Enter,” moved into the room. Jackson stood and frowned.

  “General. I’m Jean Lafitte.” He nodded, not offering to shake the general’s hand.

  “Be seated,” Jackson said gruffly as he took his seat behind the desk. “What can I do for you, Lafitte?”

  “Jean, if you please.” Lafitte grinned. He liked keeping the general off balance. “It’s not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you, General.”

  “Really?”

  “Oui. I believe you’re in need of flints.”

  “I am.” Jackson stood abruptly and went over to look out the window. “A good general is one who wins battles, but with what I’ve been given to work with, the task seems all but impossible.”

  “That’s why I’m here. I have seventy-five hundred flints and a crew of men who’d fight anyone at the drop of a hat.”

  Jackson turned back from the window. “Interesting. But why be so generous when you’ve been treated so badly?”

  “I have no love for the British.” Jean shrugged. “And I’ll not buffalo you. In exchange for the flints, I want a full pardon for my brother and my men. Upon your signed agreement, we’ll be ready to take up arms and fight with you.”

  Jackson moved over to stand in front of Lafitte. “You have your agreement, Jean. Perhaps I’ve misjudged you. Adam Trent told me I’d seek your help before this battle was over. Needless to say, I should have listened to him sooner.”

  It was still early morning when Jackson left to inspect his defenses. Most of the area, he discovered, was either swamp or open water. There were only two possible avenues of approach to the city. Adam had advised Jackson that the British would more than likely take Chef Menteur Road. Adam’s reason was valid. It was one of the few roads that were solid and would support the weight of cannons. Now that Jackson saw the road, he agreed with Adam. Chef Menteur Road ran from just north of the city, northeast to a strip of land known as the Plain of Gentilly. It reached to Lake Borgne, which connected with the sound between the Chandeleur Islands.

  Adam arrived just as the general finished his inspection. “I see you decided to study the road yourself?” Adam raised a brow, questioning the general.

  “Of course. You know I investigate everything.”

  Adam had begun explaining the region to General Jackson when a distant rider appeared. Upon reaching them, the courier jerked back on the reins. “I’ve a dispatch for the general.”

  Adam watched as Jackson read the note, then shook his head. “It’s bad news. Lieutenant Catesby Jones says the British have attacked five of his gunboats.” The general looked over at Adam. “It seems Jones had to retreat into the shallow waters of Lake Borgne. Jones said they were enormously outnumbered, but they fought well.”

  “Did any of his crews survive?” Adam asked.

  “His crews are either dead or now prisoners.” The general wadded up the letter.

  “Damn,” Adam swore. “That means the gate is wide open for the British. This isn’t a good sign. I hope you have a trick or two up your sleeve, General. We’re going to need it.”

  Their moods were somber as they hurried back to New Orleans. Adam had done well keeping his mind on the upcoming battle, but now his thoughts were on Jewel and his sister. He prayed they didn’t venture from the plantation. They would be safe there. He’d left a few men to watch over them, but if the British started moving inland, he would find Jonathan and together they would protect his family.

  “I think you should send for your nephew, Brigadier Coffee,” Adam suggested, trying to put his mind back to the main objective. “He’s at Baton Rouge, and I think we could use his twenty-five hundred Tennessee militiamen,” Adam said. “The quicker the better.”

  It was three o’clock in the afternoon when Major Villere and his friend Dussau de la Croix, both breathless, entered the command post at Royal Street. “We would like to see General Jackson urgently!”

  The desk sergeant, seeing no need to hurry, spat out the tobacco he was chewing. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stated casually, “The general is busy. Have a seat and I’ll tell him you’re here.”

  “Are you deaf ? I said it was urgent, man!” Major Vellere protested.

  “No, I ain’t deaf!” The sergeant slammed his hand down on the desk. “You’re not a military man, even though you’re referred to as ‘Major.’ It’s a courtesy title, and you’ve no right to demand anything.”

  Adam was in his office. The commotion
outside the door drew his attention. He went to investigate. “What’s the trouble here?”

  “Adam.” A look of relief flooded the major’s face upon seeing someone he knew. “I must see the general. The British have taken over my plantation. We just came from there, barely escaping with our lives!” Overly excited, he lapsed into French, and it was hard to understand what he was saying. Dussau de la Croix, after catching his breath, began to babble about the number of soldiers.

  Adam understood Major Villere enough to take him and his friend in to see Jackson himself, leaving the sputtering sergeant behind him.

  They entered the general’s office unannounced. “Andrew, I think these men have some information for you. It sounds important.”

  Jackson listened carefully, nodding as Villere recounted what had happened at his plantation.

  “I was asleep on the veranda, and when I awoke, I was surrounded by Redcoats. I couldn’t believe it! They came in just as if they owned the place. I knew you had to be told, General, so I jerked free from the man holding me and vaulted the railing. I ran like hell and headed for the swamp. They were shooting at me the whole time. They followed, but stopped dead in their tracks when I entered the swamp. I lost them, met my friend, and we came straight here, General.”

  Adam watched Jackson as he realized the full meaning of what the major had said. Jackson’s face had grown pale, but other than that he showed no outward emotion.

  “How many men do you think they have?”

  “It looked to be a brigade, maybe two thousand men.”

  “I see,” Jackson said. Turning his back to the men, he walked over to his window—a habit that Adam had learned meant the general was deep in thought. Jackson remained quiet for several moments. Slowly, he turned back to the men who waited for him to speak.