by DeVa Gantt
“Is that all?” John Ryan whispered, his eyes narrowed in displeasure.
“It’s enough,” the priest assured.
“Enough for you,” Ryan muttered, scanning the stone enclosure until his gaze returned to the vestibule by which they had entered. He began to formulate his own, very different plan. “This is some grand house. There’s got to be a lot more in there,” he said, throwing a thumb toward the side portal that opened into the manor. “We got plenty of time before the sun comes up. Let’s see what else we can find.”
“No!” Giovanni ordered. “We’ve been over this before. It’s too dangerous!”
“You’ve been over it before,” Ryan growled. “Now it’s my turn to make some of them decisions.”
“Go in there, and I leave you to your own devices,” the priest threatened. “There will be no boat when you reach the shore!”
“And what if I just rouse the family,” John Ryan rejoined. “You wouldn’t want me to do that, would ya?”
Giovanni hesitated. Ryan was shrewd. He should have shot the slovenly albatross back at his cabin where the report of the pistol would have been swallowed up by the forest. Now, he had no choice but to give in.
Gloating, John Ryan attempted to placate the priest. “With all the men gone, it should be easy to get some more loot. You know this place like the back of your hand. Where should we look first?”
Yes, Giovanni mused, why not pillage the house? Ryan is anxious to carry any additional treasure to the boat, and I’ ll be that much richer when I shoot him later on. “The master and mistress’s chambers,” he breathed, allowing the old man his momentary victory.
“Lead the way.”
Yvette shrank into the shadows of the ballroom just in time. She hadn’t expected the chapel door to suddenly swing open, and she gulped back a startled scream. Her eyes widened farther as Father Benito stepped through the doorway. She didn’t have to be a genius to figure out who was with him. Charmaine would be very upset to know her father roamed the manor.
Wade stood outside the Duvoisin compound. The imposing mansion was bathed in moonlight, but every window in the house was dark. He leaned into the gates, surprised when they gave way. The stable hands usually secured them by ten o’clock each night, unlocking them at dawn. Strange—they weren’t locked tonight. He pushed them open and walked up the drive.
Jeannette began to fret when her sister did not return. She went out on the balcony again and peered over the balustrade to the chapel doors below. They were still shut, and all was quiet, but as she straightened up, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the figure of a man approaching the house. She quickly ducked back into her room. It was time to go and wake up Charmaine.
Yvette followed the two intruders, keeping a safe distance behind them. They slunk across the banquet hall and passed through the ballroom kitchens before entering the rear service stairwell. They were headed for her parents’ chambers. For a moment, Yvette debated taking the main staircase back up, but she discounted that idea, deciding it was safer to keep the two men directly in front of her. She waited until she heard the upstairs door close before racing up the steps herself, clutching the railing in the blackness. Reaching the second floor, she put an ear to each door and listened. All was quiet. Not knowing which door they used, she chose her mother’s, slowly pulling it open and peeking around it. Moonlight spilled into the room through the French doors. No one was there. She tiptoed forward, past her mother’s bed to the sitting room door. She listened at the door again. Nothing. She waited unending minutes, her breathing thundering in her ears, fearful of where the two men might be— perhaps in her father’s chambers. Biting her bottom lip, she turned the doorknob gingerly, cracking the door, her eye pressed to the small opening. No one was there either, and she sighed in relief. She would head for her father’s quarters next.
She pushed through the door and stepped into the room. Without warning, she was grabbed from behind and lifted clear off the floor. A filthy hand clamped over her mouth, muffling a scream. A man growled near her ear as she resorted to kicking and punching. “You better stop your goddamn thrashin’ if you know what’s good for ya, girl!” She did not desist until Father Benito stepped out of the shadows, brandishing a pistol.
“You’ve spied once too often, Yvette,” he whispered.
When she struggled anew, he cocked the trigger, and she immediately stopped. “I believe you lost a riding crop behind my outhouse a year ago.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “To think your dear stepmother thought it was the wind that spilled those crates to the ground.”
Her brow tipped upward, and the priest chuckled menacingly. “Yes, I thought so. And now you’ll learn what happens to meddlesome children.” He looked at his compatriot. “I do believe we have a hostage, Mr. Ryan.”
Ryan’s lips curled into a greedy grin, his covetous eyes upon the girl he held. Giovanni smiled as well. “Tell us, Yvette,” he said, stepping over to the table and relighting his lantern, “where did your mother keep her most valuable jewels? In a whisper, please. I’d hate for something to happen to your sister or your governess’s new baby.”
Charmaine was sitting in the armchair nursing Marie when Jeannette came in. “What’s the matter?” she asked, reading fear in the girl’s eyes.
Jeannette quickly explained, but Charmaine was not alarmed. After all, the mysterious ghost had never materialized. This was just another of Yvette’s escapades. As for the apparition on the front lawns, it was probably a stable hand stepping out of the carriage-house apartments to relieve himself. Still, she couldn’t permit Yvette to wander about the mansion at two in the morning.
Handing the squirming Marie to Jeannette, Charmaine stood and tightened her robe about her waist. “Come,” she said, taking the baby back from the girl. “We’d best find your sister.”
Wade circled the entire house, but finding nothing out of the ordinary, he decided to head home. Why had he come here in the first place? Now he feared he would not find his sister until she decided to return home, if she were able.
Rounding the corner nearest the stables, he heard voices. It was one of the twins and John’s wife. “I don’t know where she could be,” the girl was saying as the two peered out the chapel door. “She said she was coming down here.”
She sounded worried, as worried as he, and Wade was compelled to step forward, his presence eliciting a shriek from the pair of them. “Sorry—I’m sorry!” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s me—Wade Remmen.”
Jeannette was happy, but Charmaine frowned deeply, annoyed her horrified reaction had frightened Marie, who let out one fitful cry that instantly turned into a rhythmic wail. “What are you doing here—creeping up on us like that?”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Wade averred, “and I wasn’t creeping. I was looking for my sister, Rebecca. She’s been missing since yesterday morning.”
“What would your sister be doing here, Mr. Remmen?” Charmaine probed suspiciously, not at all pacified by his excuse, shifting Marie to her shoulder and patting her back until she quieted.
“Don’t be angry with him, Mademoiselle,” Jeannette implored. “At least now we know who was walking up to the house.” Her adoring eyes rested on Wade. “You haven’t seen my sister, have you?”
“No, Jeannette, I haven’t.”
Yvette knew she’d get herself out of this scrape somehow, but she was terribly frightened for her sister and little Marie. Therefore, she did exactly as she was told. She showed the priest her mother’s hand-carved jewelry chest, vexed to find it nearly empty. “All of Mama’s best pieces are missing!” she objected loudly, her eyes leveled on Benito.
“Quiet!” he ordered, wagging the pistol at her. Evidently, Agatha had purloined Colette’s valuables first. “There must be money—a safe in these chambers,” he growled. “Where is it?”
Yvette took them into her father’s rooms. She went to his desk and pointed out the dummy drawer
that not only concealed important documents, but also a moneybag filled with gold coins and, surprisingly enough, her own gambling purse. She didn’t mention the safe in the wall. Apparently, it was enough; there was an avaricious gleam in Benito’s eyes as he set the lantern down and emptied one into the other, then weighed the bulging sack in his hand. “Any more than this and we wouldn’t be able to carry it,” he commented wryly. “You and I should be set for life, Mr. Ryan.”
John Ryan was pleased as well, snatching the satchel from the priest and strapping it around his waist with his belt.
“Now will you let me go?” Yvette asked defiantly.
“All in good time, my dear, all in good time.”
“But my sister will be worried if I don’t return soon.”
The priest chuckled. “If she’s as stupid as you and comes looking for trouble, we’ll give her some.”
Yvette smarted with the insult, then realized it bolstered her indomitable spirit. She wasn’t defeated yet, and if she kept a level head, she’d get through this calamity with no greater harm done than the loss of her father’s money, money that could easily be replaced.
They marched her back down the stairwell, Benito lighting the way, John Ryan wrenching her arm behind her so she couldn’t escape him. They scurried across the ballroom, coming up sharply when the chapel door swung open.
Charmaine jumped and stifled a scream when Father Benito pointed the pistol at her, but her horror climaxed as her eyes flew to Yvette and the man who restrained her. Then, she did scream, for here she was, face to face with her nightmare: John Ryan!
“What are you doing here?” she cried, recovering enough to speak, oblivious to her daughter’s renewed wailing that echoed loudly off the walls of the empty banquet hall.
“Well, Haley Charmaine,” her father snarled, “word got out that you came into a bit of money, and just like before, you’ve been leavin’ your pappy out. I reckon it’s high time you shared the wealth.”
“But how—how did you get here?”
“I ask the questions,” Benito declared, turning to his young hostage. “Your sister did come looking for you, Yvette. A shame she didn’t have the good sense to stay in her room.” He waved the gun at Charmaine, demanding she calm Marie.
“She’s upset!” Charmaine objected. “There’s nothing I can do!”
“She’s gonna wake up the whole goddamn house!” John Ryan barked.
Giovanni grew more agitated and quickly discarded the lantern. “Come here!” he ordered, leveling the weapon on Jeannette. “Now!” he shouted, grabbing hold of her arm and viciously yanking her to his side.
Charmaine gasped as he pressed the muzzle to the girl’s temple. “No—please!” she begged. “Please let her go!”
“Now,” Benito instructed coolly, “you go quietly up to your bedroom and you nurse that baby back to sleep. Then get down on your knees and pray I am merciful enough to release the girls when I’ve finished with them. However, if you alert even one person in this house as to what is happening, I guarantee you will never— never—see Yvette or Jeannette alive again.”
Jeannette whimpered.
“Please!” Charmaine implored. “Please release them now, and I promise we won’t say a word to anyone!”
The priest coughed sardonically. “I think not.”
Charmaine turned beseeching eyes on her father. “You’re my father! Don’t do this! Just let the girls go!”
“Your father?” the man sneered. “You ain’t my goddamn flesh and blood! Your mother was a whore from the day I met her ’til the day she died!”
Charmaine choked back a sob, her grip on Marie tightening with the perverted assertion.
Benito cocked the firearm. “We are wasting precious time here. On the count of ten, Madame. Must I count?”
“Dear God!” Charmaine moaned and, by dint of will alone, fled the ballroom as the countdown began.
Wade had reached the gates when he heard a scream inside the chapel, but he concluded Charmaine and Jeannette had come upon a surprised Yvette. He started home, heading south toward the beach. He’d walk back to his cottage along the coastline, hoping to uncover something along the way.
St. Giovanni and Ryan prodded the twins forward, Benito with a shove to Jeannette’s back, and Ryan with a boot to Yvette’s backside. The girl turned on him recalcitrantly. “No wonder Mademoiselle Charmaine hates you so much!”
“Silence!” the priest snarled. “No more talking—walk!”
“Where are we going?” she demanded, unintimidated.
“Silence or I’ll blow a hole through your sister’s head!” Benito threatened.
Yvette did not speak again, her mind feverishly working.
Charmaine was at George’s bedchamber door in all of two minutes, banging on it frantically until it opened.
“What is it?” he asked, panic-stricken.
“Father Benito—my father,” she gasped, shaking violently. “They were here! They’ve taken Yvette and Jeannette!”
“Where? When?”
“Just now! But I don’t know where! They warned me not to tell anyone. Benito has a pistol! Oh God, George—what if he kills them?”
George dashed back into the room and swiftly pulled on his boots. “Show me where they were headed,” he urged, grabbing his shirt.
Marie was still crying and Mercedes coaxed her from Charmaine’s arms.
George took Charmaine by the arm and they ran down the hallway. “Mercedes,” he called over his shoulder, “wake up Travis and Joshua!”
The front lawns were deserted. George swore under his breath. “Damn it! I’ll kill John for this!”
Charmaine looked up at him in surprise. “John? What do you mean?”
“It was his idea to send your father here.”
Belatedly, he realized he should have kept his mouth shut. He lengthened his stride toward the paddock.
“What do you mean his idea?” she pressed, rushing after him.
“I’ll explain later!”
Though she badgered him, he refused to say more. “Right now, we have to find the girls.”
The horses were swiftly saddled and rifles pulled from the stable. They would search the harbor and Benito’s cabin first.
“You must be careful,” Charmaine enjoined. “If they see you coming, they may very well shoot the girls. They warned me not to tell anyone!”
“We can’t just sit here and wait, Charmaine,” he stated.
He swung into the saddle and spurred his horse forward, taking the main road toward town. Gerald and three stable hands whipped their own mounts into motion and fell in after him. Minutes later, Joshua, Travis, and Joseph Thornfield reached the lawns and headed north on foot.
Charmaine paced, unable to quell the urge to do something herself. She ordered Bud, the only man who had remained behind, to saddle up Dapple.
“But, Madame,” he implored, “you can’t go out on your own.” Then, realizing he could not dissuade her, Bud did as he was told.
She was soon guiding her horse toward the southern shoreline, the only direction not taken by the search party. Moments later, she heard the clopping of hooves behind her and Bud reached her astride Champion. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you, ma’am,” he said when their eyes locked.
The unlikely foursome trudged through the underbrush toward the white beaches about three miles away. The strenuous walk became more exerting once their feet hit the sand, and Giovanni and Ryan were panting, laboring under the burden of their plunder. More than once John Ryan wanted to stop, but the priest, tired though he was, pressed on. Jeannette was glad they’d slowed down, hoping someone from the manor was in hot pursuit, but Yvette kept her strides brisk, determined to wear the men out. When Jeannette regarded her, Yvette said not a word, but yanked one braid. Jeannette nodded slightly, acknowledging the signal, then thought of Wade. He was out here somewhere. Perhaps he would come to their rescue before her sister did something rash.
/> Wade frowned down at the skiff, thinking it curious that any boat was sitting on this particular part of the beach miles from town. No one came this far north to fish, especially with the bondsmen’s quarters so close. He walked around the dinghy, noting the footprints and a furrow in the sand that suggested it had recently been dragged from the edge of the forest. Scratching his head, he followed the tracks and discovered a path at the edge of the woods. He continued along, coming upon Father Benito’s dormant cabin. Again he scratched his head, wondering if his sister had come here.
By the time Benito and Ryan reached the rowboat, they were perspiring profusely. John Ryan plopped down in the sand, winded. Benito remained vigilant, his pistol drawn, but he released Jeannette to check for his maps.
Coming away from the skiff satisfied, he faced the twins, who stood side-by-side, complacent and maddeningly identical in the moonlight. “Jeannette, come here,” he commanded.
Both girls stepped forward, though one eyed the other with a tilt of the head, her baffled expression visible even in the dim light.
Benito chuckled sagaciously. “Do you take me for a fool?” he asked pointedly of the girl staring straight ahead. “Now, I’ll ask one more time. Jeannette, come here.”
There was a moment of indecisiveness, and finally his suspicions were confirmed. The “confused” twin took another step forward. “I’m Jeannette,” she whimpered. “Sorry, Yvette,” she added, looking back at her frowning sister.
The priest’s smile turned wicked. “Get in,” he growled, motioning toward the craft with the gun.
“But I’m afraid of the ocean!” she objected fiercely. “Especially at night!”
