My Lady Vixen

by Connie Mason

  With each movement her body began to pulsate with sweet, tormenting pleasure until she was engulfed in a maddening rush to attain the summit. When she reached the crest she waited but a moment for Fox to join her.

  Sleep came, deep, satisfying, reviving. But for some unexplained reason Alexa awoke but a scant hour or two later. The lamp that ealier had lit their supper had finally sputtered out and the cabin was cast in darkness deeper than the depths of hell. But something bothered Alexa, some little detail that nagged at the corners of her brain. Abruptly she remembered. Fox’s hair! Driven to mindless passion she remembered that she had torn off his head covering in order to score his thick locks with her fingers. Suddenly her fingers twitched with the need to do so again. To feel those crisp curls against her palm, so familiar, yet, how could they be?

  Then, a rumble of thunder startled Alexa, followed by a searing blaze of lightening that illuminated the cabin with its eerie glow. Alexa rose on one elbow to look at Fox, fearing that the flash had awakened him. But evidently he was so exhausted from his clash with the English merchantman earlier that day and from his vigorous lovemaking that he was oblivious to everything but the sleep that claimed him.

  When the next bolt of lightening scored the heavens. Alexa found herself plunged into the grip of shock more profound than the most hideous nightmare. Somehow, while they were both caught up in passion. Fox’s mask had become dislodged and lay beside him on the pillow. His face, relaxed in sleep, was as familiar to her as her own. Her rage—clawing, all consuming—was so intense it threatened to destroy her. Looking back, Alexa realized her heart must have known all along what her mind refused to accept.

  There was a certain strength revealed in the hard planes of his face and the mocking tilt of his brow. His hair was a thick lion’s main of burnished gold and even in sleep his sensuous lips invited her kisses. Adam and Fox! The same man! If Adam loved her why couldn’t he have confided in her? Love is giving yourself, your thoughts, your trust, not just your body.

  A feeling akin to hatred rose up like bile to choke her. She thought of her long repressed stirrings of guilt over her belief that she loved two men, that she had allowed Fox to creep unbidden into her heart. She wanted to awaken him, to lash out, to kick, to scream, to curse. But she did none of them, too befuddled to lift a finger in retaliation. She supposed Mac knew, and wondered how many others were aware that the Fox and Adam Foxworth were the same person. His name should have given her a clue but in her mind she could not equate the staunch royalist with the fierce patriot. Evidently, neither had anyone else.

  She would pay him back in kind, Alexa silently vowed, for forcing her to unwittingly become a part of his charade. Someday she would find a way to punish him for deceiving her. Alexa wavered between waking him so she might confront him with his deception and allowing him to continue with his ruse, pretending ignorance. Suddenly a thought occurred to her and she smiled deviously. Two can play at the same game, Adam/Fox. She grinned impishly. Was not a vixen more cunning than a fox? Alexa stifled a giggle, more set than ever upon finding a way to tame a fox.

  Curving her small body into that of Adam/Fox, Alexa allowed sleep to claim her. When he awoke her near dawn to brand her with his love once again, she did not protest, allowng him to think that she welcomed the embraces of a man other than her husband. As Adam, he no doubt felt a certain jealousy for Fox, knowing that his wife gave of herself so freely, without a thought to her legal husband. And as Fox, he could not help but entertain the thought that the woman he professed to love was not totally his.

  On the heels of her astounding discovery came the demise of the woman known as Alexa, and from her ashes rose the Vixen, older, stronger, wiser. Beware!

  BOOK TWO

  THE VIXEN

  14

  At Sea 1780

  Booted feet planted firmly on the quarterdeck, that honored elevation on the stern that represented the captain’s authority, soft breezes ruffling her long blond tresses, the Vixen’s violet eyes skimmed the horizon. She had traveled over many roads during the past six months: progressing from the lady named Alexa, unsuspecting victim of men’s whims, to the Vixen, leader of men, captain of her own ship. My Lady Vixen, scourge of the English. She laughed softly, a low mirthless chuckle that caused the men working nearby to eye her curiously.

  To a man, My Lady Vixen’s crew would have laid down their lives for their beautiful captain who led them so fearlessly against the enemy. Foremost among them was her first mate. Drake, who had once been Mac’s right-hand man aboard the Lady A but who now served her so well.

  News of the war was not good as the new year of 1780 began. The British victoriously swept up through North and South Carolina. In September and October of 1779 General Benjamin Lincoln was unsuccessful in ousting General Prevost from Savannah despite the help of French naval and military forces under Admiral d’Estaing, and he fell back to Charleston. In this assault the valiant Count Casimer Pulaski, on the American side, was mortally wounded.

  Of some encouragement was word that the Whig population scattered, though without much organization, and formed into groups of riflemen and mounted troops to harass the enemy with little mercy shown by either side. Though casualties on both sides were fearsome, daring and skillful leaders such as Francis Marion and Thomas Sumter kept the spirit of resistance alive by their sudden attacks and surprises on British outposts. And so the war continued, joined by yet another brave patriot, the Vixen.

  Mesmerized by the steady rise and fall of the ship beneath her bare legs encased in short, cut-off trousers, Alexa traveled back six months to the day the Ghost sailed into Nassau. Two days previously she had inadvertently discovered that her own husband. Adam, was the man known as Fox. Hurt and enraged, she vowed she would one day pay him back in kind. Not even Mac was safe from her plotting, for he too had lent credence to Adam’s lie. For the time being it suited Alexa’s purposes to keep her secret, allowing Fox his deception.

  Guiltless now that she realized she had not allowed a man other than her husband to make love to her. Alexa welcomed Fox to her bed following the first night they had come together so passionately, shocking Fox with her ardor. Alexa chuckled whenever she recalled his puzzled frown at her eagerness to bed him while seeming to forget her husband completely. When, on their last night together. Fox asked. “Do you love me. Alexa?” she was quick to reply without a moment’s hesitation. “Aye, I love you, Fox.”

  “More than Adam? Do you love me more than your husband?” Alexa could feel his breathlessness as he awaited her answer, and she smiled sardonically, wondering what perversity would cause a man like Fox to ask such a question knowing either way he was bound to lose. What devils drove this strong, arrogant man? she wondered.

  Her answer stunned him and sent him storming from her cabin in a fit of pique. “It depends on whose bed I’m in when I’m asked,” Alexa replied sweetly, her wide violet eyes innocent of guile. The Fox had no way of knowing that out of the mouth of a lady came the words of a vixen.

  Fox did not stay angry for long. Their time together was too precious for him to analyze and condemn words spoken in the heat of passion. The next day they arrived in Nassau on New Providence Island, one of the smaller but most important of the islands, islets and reefs that made up the Bahamas. Fox immediately escorted her to his house. Mac did not accompany them. He informed Alexa he would remain aboard his ship while she was being provisioned and expected to sail one week hence. Fox’s intention was to stay but one night in Nassau and depart on the morning’s tide. Both men expected Alexa to remain dutifully behind, safely ensconced in Fox’s small but comfortable house on the island. Both were badly mistaken.

  Alexa spoke little during the short ride to Fox’s house situated on a bluff a short distance from the harbor. In 1776 Nassau was captured by the young United States navy, but after a few days the place was evacuated, leaving a kind of void as well as a haven for privateers.

  Most of the finer dwellings they passed wer
e made of limestone available readily on the island. Huts were constructed of natural vegetation and were more numerous than the better homes. Though it was winter the day was warm with gentle breezes rustling through the trees. Thick woods surrounded the most exquisite beaches Alexa had ever seen, with long unbroken crescents of white sand and sparkling blue sea. Alexa was enchanted and her face must have shown it.

  “I knew you’d like it, milady.” Fox smiled confidently. “The time should pass quickly for you in this paradise.”

  “If I don’t die of boredom,” reprosted Alexa wryly. “Fox, won’t you please reconsider and take me with you?”

  “No, Alexa. It’s out of the question.”

  Alexa bristled but said nothing, her active mind already planning ahead. Before long they stopped before a square, low house built of natural limestone sporting a tile roof and covered veranda forming a wide porch. The house faced the sea and long shuttered windows across the front were opened to garner the breeze.

  Alexa found the inside of the house airy and comfortable with furniture fashioned of rattan and bent into shape. Soft cushions provided comfort as well as color. In charge of Fox’s home during his long absences were a couple who, Alexa surmised from their features, were descendants of the original Arawak Indians who once resided on these islands, and their lovely young daughter who looked to be about eighteen.

  Trini, a handsome woman in her late thirties, served as housekeeper and cook while her husband, Hunter, saw to the upkeep and sometimes served Fox aboard the Ghost. Their daughter, Lana, a coffee-hued beauty whose dewy youth and innocence thoroughly charmed Alexa, helped her mother with the chores. Fox’s introduction left no doubt in the servants’ minds that Alexa was to be considered mistress in his absence. The family proved friendly and respectful and Alexa liked them on sight, especially Lana.

  That night Fox made love to her as if he might never see her again, and Alexa responded in a like manner as their lovemaking reached new heights of erotic delight. With hands and lips he brought her time after time to levels of ecstasy never before attained, and she matched his urgency with her own. Never had her pleasure been so pure and explosive. When Fox finally left her at dawn she was filled with an amazing sense of completeness so profound that she barely registered his words when he bid her goodbye and assured her that one day he would return for her.

  Fox/Adam was gone, and Alexa’s transformation began almost immediately. The first thing she did was to secure Lana’s friendship. The young girl reacted favorably to Alexa’s initial overtures and within a day or two they were chatting and laughing together like old friends, for there were but two years separating their ages. Alexa was immensely pleased when she learned that Lana was an adventurous sort; being overly protected as she was by her doting parents she longed to taste more fully of life. She confided to Alexa that she greatly admired daring and courage in a woman.

  Time was growing short and Alexa, throwing caution to the wind, took a wide-eyed Lana into her confidence. The girl, intrigued and excited by Alexa’s daring, eagerly agreed to help. Alexa waited until Mac came to bid her goodbye before setting her plan into motion. Mac, looking fit and healthy after his ordeal, arrived for supper the night before he was to leave New Providence Island.

  “Alexa, you do understand why Fox left you behind, don’t you?” he asked while they were partaking of Trini’s excellent meal consisting mainly of conch, a sort of shellfish, cooked in diverse dishes, fresh vegetables and fruits.

  “Of course,” Alexa replied sweetly.

  Though Mac was startled as well as perplexed by Alexa’s sudden calm acceptance of her lot, he chose not to delve too deeply into her reason for doing so. He had always found women too complex to figure out. That’s why he had remained a bachelor for so long. They talked awhile longer and when it was time to say their goodbyes, Mac tenderly embraced Alexa, placing an almost, but not quite, brotherly kiss on her lips. “We’ll meet again, milady,” he smiled.

  “I’m sure of it,” predicted Alexa impishly.

  The moment Mac’s jaunty step carried him out of sight, Alexa called Lana to her and they began immediately to prepare for Alexa’s great adventure from which the Vixen would eventually emerge.

  Hurriedly Lana helped Alexa dress in the sailor garb she had collected and helped tailor to fit Alexa’s petite figure. Then she departed and returned with a packet of food and a jug of water calculated to provide sustenance for several days, a change of clothes including a bulky sweater and hat to conceal her long, dark hair. Her excitment at a fever pitch, Alexa was finally ready.

  Keeping to the shadows, Lana led her long a deserted path to the harbor. Displaying her own mettle and inventiveness, Lana managed to distract the man guarding the Lady A long enough for Alexa to sneak up the gangplank undetected. Once aboard Alexa breathed easier, hoping Lana wouldn’t be punished too severely for her part in Alexa’s wild scheme. She cautioned Lana to display ignorance about her disappearance and hoped the girl would comply.

  Thoroughly familiar with the ship. Alexa made directly for a place in the hold that rarely saw any of the crew. The brig used to house crewmen in need of restraint. All of Mac’s men, as well as Fox’s, were loyal and true and rarely, if ever, required discipline. She would be safe here until she chose to make her presence known, Alexa reckoned. If all went well she expected to remain hidden until Mac was too far from Nassau to turn back.

  By frugally rationing her food and water and extinguishing one of the candles thoughtfully provided by Lana whenever she heard someone approaching. Alexa contrived to remain concealed a full week. The hardest part was not seeing or speaking to another soul. But on the eighth day, her food and water all but gone, consumed by loneliness, Alexa timidly ventured forth from the hold. Dressed in her sailor’s garb, her hair concealed by a knit cap, she resembled a young lad and was immediately mistaken for such by the first person who saw her as she emerged from her concealment.

  A rather stunned seaman noticed her as she crept stealthily from the hold into the light of day, and he immediately challenged her. “You there, lad, what are you doing down there in the hold where you have no business being at this time of day?”

  Alexa froze, refusing to face the man. But when he called out again asking who she was and where she came from, she slowly turned in his direction. The dark scowl furrowing his brow alerted her to the fact that he did not recognize her as a crew member. “By Jupiter, a stowaway!” the seaman cried, pouncing upon her. Alexa was too stunned to resist as she was dragged forward by the burly seaman. “Yer lucky it’s Captain Mac ye’ll be brought before, lad, and not another, for Captain Mac’s fair and will let ye work yer passage.”

  Finally Alexa stood before a frowning Mac, head bowed, eyes downcast. “What have we here, Beggs?” Mac asked, a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth. “No doubt some likely lad who has a yen to fight the British.”

  “Aye, Captain,” nodded Beggs vigorously. “I caught the lad sneaking up from the hold.”

  “Hmmm,” mused Mac thoughtfully, pretending to ponder the dilemma brought about by a stowaway. “Looks skinny, probably starving after a week in the hold. Take him to the galley and tell cook to fill his belly, then put him to work scrubbing the deck. Does that meet with your approval, lad?”

  “Aye,” murmured Alexa in a voice pitched deliberately low.

  “Aye, what?” challenged Mac curtly.

  “Aye, sir,” responded Alexa.

  “What’s your name, lad?”

  “Al … Alex, sir,” Alexa answered, thinking quickly.

  “Well, Alex,” Mac informed her, “it’s too late to turn back so it looks as if you’ll have your way, though before you’re through you may well wish you had remained safely in Nassau.” Mac did not notice the triumphant smile lighting Alexa’s pert features as he turned away to pursue more important matters.

  “Come along, lad,” Beggs said gruffly but not unkindly. “But first, seeing as how the Captain has been so generous with
ye, the least ye can do is doff yer cap.” So saying he yanked the knit cap from Alexa’s head. “The Lord preserve us!” he gasped as Alexa’s long, ebony locks tumbled freely about her shoulders and down her shapely back in a profusion of tangled curls. “Lady Alexa!”

  There was not a man aboard the Lady A who did not recognize Alexa from her previous journey with them. During the weeks she had sailed with them across the ocean they had all come to think very highly of her and to a man they would have gladly died for one of her sweet smiles. Beggs, particularly, felt close to her since he was the one who had originally brought her aboard the Lady A long ago in England.

  Stunned. Mac did not want to believe his ears when Beggs called out Alexa’s name. Thinking he was hearing things, he whirled about, only to find he did indeed face a defiant Alexa ridiculously garbed in sailor’s clothing yet somehow managing to look feminine and vastly desirable. “My God, Alexa, what are you doing here?” he ranted, imagining Fox’s rage once he found out that Alexa had stowed aboard his ship.

  “I warned you and Fox I would not tolerate being left behind,” replied Alexa smugly. “You both harbor the notion that because I am a woman I am mindless, or too weak to be of any help.”

  “Do you realize what you’ve done, Alexa? We’re too far from Nassau to turn back. What am I to do with you?”

  Alexa smiled winsomely. “Why, you could teach me to sail, to fight, to navigate. You can help me learn all I need to know in order to become a good sailor.”

  “For what purpose?” Mac asked, disguising his anger. Why couldn’t she have stowed aboard the Ghost where Fox would be obliged to handle her?

  “Who knows?” shrugged Alexa mysteriously. “Someday the knowledge might serve me well.”

  Suddenly Mac became aware that the entire crew was clustered about them, avidly hanging on to every word spoken, their indulgent smiles making him realize whom they favored in the exchange. Grasping her arm he led her toward his cabin where they were afforded a measure of privacy. Once the heavy oak door shut out prying ears and eyes. Mac began anew to berate Alexa.