by Connie Mason
Barrington was not so easily convinced. He trusted Fox not at all. He knew that the moment Vixen was off his ship the guns of both the Ghost and My Lady Vixen would not hesitate to blast them out of the water. For the moment Barrington settled on the ploy of wait and see, unwilling to give over his prize and unconvinced Fox would actually fire upon them with Vixen aboard. His answer was not long in coming.
Carefully instructing his gun crew on where to place the shot, Fox ordered a round of cannon aimed at the frigate. It hit well forward, starting several small fires. The frigate immediately retaliated only to find the sly Fox had maneuvered out of range. Next My Lady Vixen moved in position to fire which convinced Barrington more than anything that Fox would risk all, even Vixen, to sink an enemy. But Barrington was far from defeated as he slanted a sly glance in Vixen’s direction, the beginnings of an idea forming in his mind.
He realized that Fox would not allow the frigate to escape once he had Vixen safely aboard the Ghost, so it stood to reason that a ploy must be devised in order to gain them the opportunity to escape the Americans, some sort of diversion. Captain Barrington’s devious mind worked furiously as he quickly discarded several ideas, finally settling on one he was certain would work.
“You can have Vixen, Fox,” he suddenly called out to the Ghost standing off their starboard. “Come and get her, we won’t fire.”
“If you do, My Lady Vixen will put a volley midship,” warned Fox ominously.
“You have my word,” shouted Barrington. Then he wheeled about to issue orders to Captain Crisp. Next, he went to Alexa, removed the ropes holding her in place and half-carried, half-dragged her to the railing in full view of both American ships.
Alexa was barely conscious, her head lolled from side to side, her mouth slack. Blood still oozed from her wound and she had a large bump on her forehead where she had been struck by one of her captors when she struggled against captivity.
Holding her firmly in place at his side, Barrington waited patiently as the Ghost slowly closed the gap between them. When he deemed the time exactly right, with the Ghost neither too close nor too distance for his purposes, he lifted Vixen’s limp form high in his arms so that she hung partially over the rail. When he was certain he had Fox’s full attention, he leaned out over the water, dangling Alexa like bait before him and calmly let her drop, down, down, down …
17
From the moment the Fox heard the roar of distant guns and realized it could only be Vixen in some kind of trouble, he was like a man demented. Without a moment’s hesitation he ordered the Ghost about but it was still over an hour before he came within sight of the British frigates lashed to either side of My Lady Vixen. When he was close enough he fired a volley into one of the frigates; one of the balls evidently finding the magazine, setting the ship ablaze. But he had not arrived in time to save Vixen and he watched helplessly as an English officer dragged her aboard the second frigate after setting adrift their sinking mate.
The blood froze in Fox’s veins when he saw that Vixen was wounded and bleeding profusely, appearing to be barely conscious. Only when the officer turned did Fox recognize him as Captain Lance Barrington. He nearly jumped into the water to swim to Vixen’s aid when he saw one of the Englishmen strike her in the temple with the flat of his sword when she roused herself long enough to resist.
Then help came unexpectedly from the crew of My Lady Vixen and Fox hoped to bluff Barrington into releasing Vixen. After conversing with Barrington across the water. Fox took heart when he realized the captain believed he would destroy the frigate with Vixen aboard rather than allow an enemy to escape unscathed.
Relying on his initiative, Fox swiftly closed the distance between the two ships, signaling Drake to stand by with his guns trained on the frigate once he had Barrington’s word that he would release Vixen. What happened next would live in Fox’s memory forever. Horrorstruck, he watched Barrington, as if in slow motion, raise Vixen in his arms, dangler her over the rail and let her fall. It took a full minute for Fox to gain his wits and react.
Unbuckling his sword, removing his side arms and kicking off his boots, Fox considered nothing but his unwillingness to let Vixen die as he arched gracefully from the quarterdeck into the churning water below. From the deck of My Lady Vixen Drake watched as if hypnotied as Vixen’s small body disappeared into a watery grave. He reacted in the same manner as Fox, hitting the water at nearly the same instant.
Grinning triumphantly, Barrington gave the signal and his ship, taking advantage of the diversion he had cunningly contrived, raised every sail available to them and turned tail. He was confident neither privateer would move from the spot until Vixen’s body was recovered, and not for one minute did he believe Vixen would be pulled from the water alive. In any case, he would not be around to find out.
The shock of hitting the water roused Alexa to the point where she floundered futilely for a few minutes before sinking helplessly beneath the surface. Wounded, too weak to swim, she felt herself sinking, whirling in a dark eddy, deeper—deeper— Her lungs ached to draw in precious air and Alexa knew the end was near when a peace descended upon her. Tranquil, relaxed, mysteriously able to breathe, Alexa floated in a void very near death until fate intervened.
Suddenly Alexa felt herself rising, being dragged inexorably upward by her long silver locks. Vaguely she wondered why the effort was being made for she was perfectly able to breathe underwater. And then she knew nothing more.
By the time Fox had located Alexa and dragged her to the surface, long minutes had passed and she appeared so lifeless he despaired that she could be fully restored. With Drake’s help Fox carefully handed Alexa into the longboat that had been lowered the moment Fox hit the water. Then Fox and Drake were hauled in.
It wasn’t until Alexa lay stretched out on the teak deck of the Ghost that Fox began in earnest to revive the feeble spark of life left in her frail body. When he pumped out every drop of water from her lungs and still she did not breathe, he grew frantic. He couldn’t lose her now! There was too much left unsaid between them, so much to resolve. He refused to let her die.
In desperation Fox covered Alexa’s mouth with his own, willing her to live by breathing his own life into her. Again and again he forced air into her lungs, frustrated when she failed to respond. “Don’t die, damn you!” he cried out, gripping her shoulders to emphasize his words. “I need you, do you hear? Don’t leave me!”
Drake stood beside Fox, tears streaming unashamedly down his cheeks. “It’s no use, Fox,” he despaired, placing a hand consolingly on Fox’s straining shoulders.
“I won’t give her up, Drake, she has to live! I won’t allow her to die,” Fox croaked, shaking off Drake’s restraining hand as he bent to continue his breath of life. He knew it was a radical procedure, one that he had heard of but never before tried. But at that point he was willing to try anything.
Suddenly Alexa’s chest heaved weakly, once, twice, and then she began to cough and sputter. Jubilant. Fox did not cease his ministrations until he was certain Alexa no longer needed his help and was able to breathe on her own. Only then did he sink back on his heels and raise his eyes to heaven, thanking God for giving him back a woman he could not live without.
Alexa stirred, intensely aware of every bruise and ache in her battered body. A blaze of light pierced her closed lids and she groaned aloud, seeking a more comfortable position. “Alexa, wake up. Please! Speak to me, my love.”
That voice! Fox! Fox was speaking to her, imploring her to awaken, calling her his love. Opening her eyes was a painful process but when she did she saw Fox leaning over her, his mouth beneath the mask tense with worry. “Thank God!” he breathed when her violet eyes finally focused on him. “I was afraid you’d never awaken.”
“How … how long have I been out?” Alexa asked weakly.
“Three days,” Fox informed her bleakly. “Three miserable days in which you hovered between life and death.”
“You care so mu
ch?” Alexa asked, amazed.
“My God, Alexa, how could, you even ask such a question?”
Suddenly Alexa tensed, aware for the first time that Fox had called her Alexa and not Vixen. A soft cry of distress rose from her throat as her hand searched her face, knowing even before she touched the soft skin of her cheek that her mask had been removed. “You know!” she accused petulantly.
“Alexa, my darling,” Fox told her in a voice tinged with amusement. “I knew who you were the moment I laid eyes on your nude body stretched out so enticingly in the sand.”
“You knew then? But … how? I … I don’t understand. I was masked, my hair was bleached and I disguised my voice.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t recognize a body I know as intimately as my own? I know every inch of your glorious flesh. Alexa. Never would I mistake you for another. Besides,” he grinned wolfishly, “there is one spot on your body you did not think to bleach. That special place, my love, was as black as the deepest night.”
Alexa blushed furiously, knowing exactly the spot he was talking about. Actually, she hadn’t considered bleaching so intimate a place, for she had no intention of allowing anyone a view of her nude body. “Why did you say nothing? Why did you allow me to believe I had fooled you?” accused Alexa hotly.
“At first I was enraged to discover you were the Vixen; that you had deliberately gone against my wishes and placed yourself in a position of danger. When you’re feeling better you have much to explain. I’ll want to know exactly how the Vixen came into being.”
“Yet, in the end you left me to continue my charade, danger or no.”
“I could have unmasked you, revealed you for who you were and escorted you back to Nassau. But what good would it have done?” He shrugged philosophically. “You would have found a way to surmount that obstacle and take to the sea again.”
Alexa nodded slowly. “Aye, I would have.”
“After our duel I knew you to be capable of taking care of yourself. Drake is a good man and so is Beggs. I talked with your men and found them loyal to the point of willing to die for you. Your courage and daring overwhelmed me and against my better judgment I decided it unfair of me to curtail your activities when you felt so strongly about the American cause.”
Alexa beamed beneath his praise but was quickly deflated when Fox amended, “But it’s over for you, Alexa. You were sorely wounded and I will not allow you to deliberately place yourself in danger again. For all intents and purposes the Vixen died beneath the sea. I’ll make certain that the word is spread until it reaches the right ears. Goodbye, Vixen, welcome back, Alexa.”
“No, Fox,” begged Alexa. “Don’t make me sit out the rest of the war in Nassau.”
“You’ve no choice, my love. It will be months before your arm heals to the point where you can use it without causing yourself pain.”
“So now I’ll wager we’re on our way to Nassau,” she fumed impotently.
“Aye.”
“What happened to the English frigate?”
“She turned tail and ran while we were involved in your rescue.”
“Thank you for that,” Alexa said softly. “Where is My Lady Vixen? Will she put in to Nassau also?”
“No,” Fox said smugly. “Drake has taken command of the ship and is giving chase to the frigate hoping to catch up to her.”
“What?” Alexa asked indignantly. “I don’t believe you! Drake would not act without orders from me.”
“I told you it was over for you, Alexa. He saw how gravely injured you were. We all thought you were dead when I pulled you from the water. You scared ten years off my life. That you live at all is a miracle. No, my love, the Vixen has ceased to exist.”
Weariness etched deep lines in Alexa’s face as she started to protest, but Fox silenced her by placing a finger against her soft lips. “No more. Alexa, you are still far from well. Go back to sleep. In the meantime I’ll have something appetizing prepared for you to eat, and when you awaken we’ll talk further. There is still much I don’t know concerning your transformation from my sweet Alexa to the fierce Vixen.”
Alexa nodded tiredly. But before she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, she murmured, “Yes, Adam, there is much to tell you and even more for you to tell me.” Stunned, Fox could only stare at her, the even movement of her chest telling him she was already fast asleep.
It was dark when Alexa awoke hours later feeling rested as well as ravenous, but still hurting. A short time later Fox came into the cabin bearing a basin of hot water and proceeded to tenderly bathe her face and hands. Only then did Alexa become aware that she wore one of Fox’s soft linen shirts as a nightgown and that her left arm was tightly bound and held firmly in place by a sling, making movement awkward at best.
When a tray was brought in Alexa concentrated on the food while Fox sat back and watched, sometimes reaching over to help her cut her meal into bit-sized portions she could manage easily with one hand. His eyes never left her face and Alexa realized that soon there would be no more secrets between them, and inwardly she rejoiced.
Replete, Alexa told Fox she was finished and he set the tray aside, then settled on the bed beside her. “Do you feel strong enough to talk, Alexa?” he asked in the husky whisper he assumed in his identity as the Fox.
“Aye, Adam, as soon as you remove your mask,” Alexa shocked him by saying, “There’ll be nothing between us now but the truth.”
“How long have you known?” Fox/Adam asked when he finally found his voice.
“I discovered you were the Fox shortly before you left me in Nassau. I must admit it was a shock to learn my own husband did not trust me enough to tell me the truth.”
“It was for your own safety, my love,” Adam explained as he removed the final barrier that stood between them. “I feared you might let it slip inadvertently had you known who I was. You see, though I was outwardly working for General Prevost, the messages I carried were relayed to Americans. During those frequent missions for the English when my absences wouldn’t be questioned. I took to the sea as Fox. Did you ever wonder how Fox was so familiar with the British shipping schedule from England?”
“But damn it, Adam, you knew I was loyal to the American cause!” accused Alexa angrily. “Yet you deliberately deceived me! I let Fox make love to me! All the while feeling terrible guilt because I thought I was betraying my husband!”
“I wondered about that, my love.” Adam admitted wryly. “At first it hurt to think you’d allow another man to make love to you so easiy. I was bitterly jealous of my other self. But by then you were aware of my identity, weren’t you, Alexa?”
Alexa smirked, happy at least that she had confused Adam enough to question her loyalty. “You asked for it, Adam.”
“Tell me truthfully, my love, did you mean it when you told Fox you loved him?”
“Aye, I meant it.”
“And Adam?”
“I didn’t love Adam until … until later. You see, Fox took my virginity and I harbored tender feelings for him long before I realized my love for Adam. Besides, in the beginning Adam wasn’t deserving of my love. You have to admit Adam was rather despicable.”
“You minx,” replied Adam, uncertain whether he liked her explanation. Then he made a revelation of his own. “I loved you as Fox long before I allowed Adam to love you.” Alexa looked incredulous. “It’s true, my love. Fox was free to love who and where he pleased; he had no vendetta against the Ashleys. I think Fox loved you from the moment he saw you. It took Adam longer to admit his feelings.”
“Yet you were willing to leave me to face my father and rush back to America to marry Lady Gwen! Why?”
“Gwen was necessary to the cause, or so I thought. While you only complicated my life.”
Alexa searched Adam’s face, afraid to ask what was burning on the tip of her tongue. But because it was important to her, she overcame her reticence and asked, “Adam, in the months we’ve been apart, on your trips back to Savannah and Adam
, did you … make love to Gwen?”
Adam flushed darkly, unwilling to answer until her piercing gaze prompted him to say, “Alexa, I don’t want to talk about Gwen. I did what I had to in order to avoid suspicion.”
“Tell me, Adam,” she repeated softly.
“I did not bed her, Alexa. After Fox rescued you and Mac on the eve of your hanging, Adam disappeared for awhile. It looked very suspicious that I should drop out of sight at the same time you did. When I returned to Savannah from Nassau I told everyone I was out looking for you, that I wanted you hung for your crime as badly as they did. They wouldn’t have believed me had I not taken up with Gwen almost immediately. I was forced to keep up the pretense with Gwen or else risk having my identity revealed.”
“Thank you for being honest with me, Adam,” Alexa said gravely. “How long must your charade with Gwen continue?”
“Until the English are driven from American soil or I am found out and hung.”
“I see,” was all Alexa said. But try as she might Alexa did not understand how wooing Gwen aided the American cause. “Do you love me, Adam?” she asked abruptly.
“More than life, my love,” smiled Adam, his love shining from the depths of his smoky eyes.
“Then I’ll try to understand why you must … must court Gwen. But I don’t have to like it.”
“Nor do I,” replied Adam so sincerely that Alexa was inclined to believe him.
They talked a while longer of the war. Adam informed her that Cornwallis had marched leisurely into North Carolina but had suffered the loss of two detachments sent at intervals to disperse various partisan corps of Americans. On October 7, 1780, a force of 1100 men under Major Patrick Ferguson was surrounded at King’s Mountain, South Carolina, near the North Carolina line, by bands of riflemen under Colonel Isaac Shelby, Colonel James Williams and Colonel William Campbell. After a desperate fight on the wooded and rocky slopes, the British surrendered. Ferguson himself was killed.
