Destiny's Daughter

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  She fell into his embrace and felt his calm strength flow into her. Her cold flesh absorbed his warmth. Her heartbeat steadied, matching his.

  Pressing his lips to her hair he murmured, "We have your carriage outside. I’ll carry you, love. We’re going home."

  "Home. Oh, Chase." Her eyes brimmed, and she clung to him with a fierceness he’d never known she possessed. "Oh, yes. Please take me home."

  The torch sputtered, then nearly died before catching fire again, giving off a dim light.

  Lifting her into his arms, Chase ordered, "Luther, take up that torch. Hurry."

  As they began moving toward the cellar steps, they heard the sound of approaching carriage wheels.

  "Extinguish that torch."

  As Luther complied, they were enveloped in blackness. No one moved. Every muscle tensed as they heard the sound of the carriage pass by. Voices called. Montagnet and Lafourcade were in high spirits. They could be heard laughing. Then they were walking. Would they continue toward the front veranda? Or would one of them notice the uncovered cellar door?

  Cradled in Chase’s arms, Annalisa heard the thundering of his heart keeping time to her own and wondered if they could be heard outside.

  The sound of footsteps grew louder, then louder still, then gradually began growing dimmer as they moved toward the front of the house. Annalisa chanced a deep breath. A voice called out in the darkness. Several feet could be heard climbing the wooden stairs of the veranda. A door opened and closed. And then there was silence.

  Cautiously climbing the stone steps, Jessie held the wooden door for Luther and Chase, who carried a trembling Annalisa in his arms. She saw the twinkling of a million stars and breathed deeply of the night air. As he set her down, Jessie bent to quietly drop the cover over the cellar steps. In that instant, they heard Montagnet’s voice, very strong and very clear.

  "Don’t move. Not a muscle. Or I’ll blow your friend’s head off."

  A light blazed, blinding them. As their eyes adjusted to the brilliance, they could see Montagnet holding a pistol to Luther’s head. Beside him, Lafourcade held aloft a blazing torch.

  "Drop your weapons."

  Annalisa felt her heart stop as Luther, Jessie, and Chase dropped rifles and pistols to the ground. Edmond Lafourcade bent to pick up each one, keeping them firmly tucked under his arm.

  Montagnet’s smile was chilling. "Now isn’t this cozy? We have a whore, a gambler, and two niggers breaking into your house. I see no reason not to shoot them where they stand. The law, my dear mayor, is clearly on our side."

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  "Down those steps." Montagnet waved his gun menacingly. "All of you. Hurry."

  Glancing at Jessie, he said, "You there, the giant. You go first."

  Still holding Luther by the back of the shirt, Charles Montagnet kept the gun pressed against his head. Though Jessie knew he could break the man in two, he couldn’t risk having Luther killed in the process. Lowering his head, he descended the stone steps into the darkness. Behind him, Lafourcade held the torch aloft, then thrust it into a niche in the wall. Taking a gun from his waist, he aimed it at the big man.

  "Move against that wall."

  When Jessie complied, he was secured to leg irons fastened to the wall.

  "Now your turn. Masters."

  Chase stood beside Jessie and resisted the urge to kick Lafourcade’s head as he bent to affix the leg irons to his ankles.

  Giving Luther a shove, Montagnet laughed as the last of the irons were locked around his ankles.

  "You all look so natural here." Montagnet turned to Lafourcade. "Didn’t you have this cellar originally built to—persuade difficult slaves to change their attitudes?" When the mayor-elect said nothing, he turned to Annalisa. "That just leaves you, my dear, but I have something better in mind for you than chains." The man ran a hand possessively along her arm.

  Chase clenched his fists so tightly the knuckles were white. The feeling of helplessness was almost more than he could bear. "How did you find us?" He wasn’t interested. He merely wanted to distract Montagnet for the moment.

  "You left the lady’s carriage in plain view."

  Chase cursed their clumsiness. Hadn’t he just gloated over the fact that desperate men get careless? It had been a deadly mistake.

  "What are we going to do with her?" Edmond Lafourcade asked in a trembling voice. Apparently, Chase decided, the mayor-elect was either nervous, or eager to get upstairs to his—diversions.

  "The same thing you’ve done with your reluctant lovers for the past few years." Montagnet laughed, a cruel, chilling laugh. "The cell."

  Gripping Annalisa’s arm roughly he dragged her across the room and pushed her into a small pen, walled by metal bars. Beneath the bars he shoved the dirty blanket and the basin of water and cloths.

  "When I return, I expect to find you washed and dressed in this." Squeezing the elegant gown through the bars, Montagnet gave another chilling laugh. "When I come for you, I want you to look as grand as any French countess."

  As they walked to the steps, he turned. In a tone that rang with mockery, he added, "Maybe I’ll even let your three rescuers watch as I make you mine. Sleep well, my dear Miss Montgomery."

  The two men disappeared up the steps. The door was firmly closed, the lock twisted. And in the deathly silence that followed, all Annalisa could hear was her own shallow breathing, and the low, muttered curses of the three men chained to the wall.

  * * *

  While Annalisa gripped the bars of her cell and watched helplessly, Jessie began pulling against the metal posts that had been securely anchored into the wall. Though the wall nearly trembled each time the big man put his weight to it, the posts didn’t budge.

  "We have to break these chains." Chase kicked about the dirt floor, searching for something heavy enough to use as a tool.

  Shivering in the dampness, Annalisa bent to pick up the blanket. Her fingers encountered a rock.

  "Will this do?" Lifting it in both hands, she held it up.

  The three men looked up eagerly.

  "Can you toss it this far?" Chase asked.

  Testing its weight, she eyed the distance between the men and her cell and swallowed. Please, God, she prayed. It could mean the difference between life and death.

  Bringing back her hand, she flung the rock with all her might and watched as it landed just short of their reach. And then a miracle happened. It began to roll. Reaching out, Chase caught it and handed it to Jessie.

  "We’ll start with your chains," Chase said to the big man.

  The three men knelt on the damp earthen floor and began taking turns pounding the rock against Jessie’s shackles.

  While they worked, Annalisa began prowling her cell. She needed something to protect herself against Montagnet when he returned.

  The floor of the cell had been packed hard from the pacing of many feet. The bare earth floor yielded nothing that could be used as a weapon. How many, Annalisa wondered, had been imprisoned in this dismal place through the years? And why? What had Montagnet meant by Lafourcade’s reluctant lovers? Had the entire world gone mad?

  Needing to be busy, Annalisa bathed her wounded head and managed to wash most of the matted blood and dirt from her hair. Proceeding to wash herself, she glanced down at the filthy nightshift she wore, then at the luxurious gown that Montagnet had left behind. Defiantly she kicked the gown aside. She would rather die in something of her own than accept anything from that man’s hand.

  The sound of stone striking metal rang out in the midnight silence and Annalisa wondered if the sound carried upward to where their enemies lay.

  When she had finished bathing, Annalisa dried herself, then suddenly fell to her knees and studied the lovely porcelain basin. Property broken, a shard of this ceramic would be as deadly as any knife.

  At the sound of shattering glass, the pounding ceased. The three men turned in her direction.

  "What happened?" asked Chase.

 
; "I needed a weapon. This basin is made of porcelain. Shall I throw the rest of the pieces to you?"

  The men exchanged surprised glances, then called out words of encouragement as she tossed the broken pieces as hard as she could.

  Several pieces fell short and lay upon the shadowed floor. But several more fell within reach of the men. Hiding the shards along the wall, they returned to their task of pounding the chains with the rock.

  * * *

  The sound of a key grating in the rusty lock brought everyone’s head up. The door was flung open and bright sunlight spilled down the steps, flooding the dank cellar with light that stung eyes accustomed to the gloom. Shading her eyes, Annalisa watched as the tall figure of Montagnet approached.

  He glanced at the three men who squatted on their heels, backs against the wall. "Your heroes don’t look so heroic in the light of day."

  Annalisa sat hunched in the corner of the cell, the blanket wrapped around her to ward off the chill.

  Spotting the gown lying on the dirty floor, Montagnet exploded. "I told you to be dressed like a French countess when I came for you."

  Standing, Annalisa kept the blanket wrapped around her. Beneath its folds, she kept a death grip on the shard of porcelain. Her hands trembled. Her voice was surprisingly strong. "And I said I would never be your woman."

  "Fool." Fumbling with a key, he unlocked the door to the cell and strode inside. "I told you. I always get what I want." As he stepped closer, his voice lowered with anger. "You could have made it all so easy for yourself. Now, I’m afraid, it is going to be most unpleasant."

  Seeing her hand move beneath the blanket, Chase called, "Annalisa."

  She turned her head to look at him.

  "Make it easy on yourself. Don’t fight the man."

  "But I . . ."

  "You heard me." Chase winked, and Annalisa froze at his old signal. "Do as he asks."

  What was he up to? Did she dare trust him? With the knife, she had half a chance. Without it, what chance did she have to stand up to a man as strong as Montagnet?

  Licking her lips, she allowed the blanket to fall away from her shoulders. Still hidden in its folds, the shard of porcelain slipped away from her grasp as well.

  "He knows I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you," Montagnet sneered, studying her heaving breasts.

  "I think death would be more welcome than what you have in mind."

  "What I have in mind," he said, stepping closer, "is watching your eyes widen with fear and feeling your heart pound in your chest until it nearly explodes. I want to hear you cry, my beauty, and whimper like a wounded animal before the kill. I want to hear you beg me and plead for your life."

  "Never," she said, feeling the beads of sweat begin to form on her forehead.

  "Oh, but you will," he said, laughing. "Because if you don’t, I’ll kill your heroes here one at a time, until you would be willing to do anything I ask in order to end the bloodbath."

  Taking a dagger from a scabbard at his waist, he held it up until it glinted in the sunlight. "You gentlemen will enjoy this." Holding the point of the knife at her throat, he said, "Take off that filthy rag and put on the gown I provided."

  "No." Annalisa’s breath burned her throat. Swallowing back her panic, she met his glittering eyes.

  Even while he suffered an agony of pain and humiliation for her, Chase admired her courage. She would defy Montagnet to the end.

  Without a word the villainous Montagnet slit her nightshift from throat to hem. The three men, helpless to stop him, caught their breaths, then looked away. When Annalisa tried to gather it about her, Montagnet placed the point of the knife between her breasts. "Let it fall away."

  Stunned, she swallowed the bile that rose to her throat, then watched in silent fury as the fabric fell to the floor.

  For long, silent minutes Montagnet enjoyed the vision of her naked body. She was even lovelier than he had hoped. Her breasts were high and firm, her waist tiny, her hips softly rounded. Glancing triumphantly at the three men in chains, he met Chase’s eye and recognized his murderous look.

  Montagnet felt his excitement grow. It would be even more rewarding having these three brooding witnesses. He would shame her, humiliate her, make her crawl. And then he would make her watch as he killed them, one at a time.

  His voice rose with elation. "Put on my gown."

  With nerveless fingers Annalisa picked up the ivory gown and slipped it over her head. The silk whispered about her shoulders and tumbled in soft folds to her ankles.

  He caught his breath. Truly, she was lovelier than any royalty. "Exquisite. Turn around."

  Doing as she was told, Annalisa heard him return the knife to the scabbard, before he began fastening the buttons that ran from her waist to her collar.

  Distracted, Montagnet did not notice the giant who moved away from the shattered leg irons at the wall and began creeping toward him.

  Footsteps sounded on the steps of the cellar. Instantly Jessie retreated and once more fastened the broken irons around his ankles.

  "Charles, the governor is here to see you." Edmond Lafourcade was visibly agitated.

  Montagnet’s fingers stopped in their work. "The governor? Here?"

  Lafourcade’s voice was even higher-pitched than usual. "He’s waiting in the parlor. I told him you were out in the barn."

  Montagnet paled. "We can’t have him find us down here. Why didn’t you tell him I was upstairs?"

  "Because I had to come get you. I had to think of a lie that would get me out of the house. And besides . . ." He dragged a heavy burden down the steps, then said after several steadying breaths, "... I had to drag this body out of sight before the governor’s driver brought his rig to the stables."

  No one in the cellar made a sound. They all stared at the limp bloodied body of a young boy. Chase recognized him as the boy he had spoken with the night before. No more than twelve. He hadn’t even had time to reach manhood. He felt a seething anger tremble through him at the vile men who ruled this den of wickedness.

  Montagnet gave him a look of disgust. "We’ll deal with this later." Thrusting the key at Lafourcade, Charles hurried across the room. "Lock up the girl. And see that this cellar opening is carefully covered. We can’t afford any mistakes now."

  As he hurried away, Lafourcade mopped his forehead with a crisp handkerchief.

  "Stand away from the door, Miss Montgomery," he said in his falsetto voice.

  Glancing at Chase, Annalisa saw him wink again. Swallowing, she said in a quivering voice, "Monsieur Montagnet was just going to button my gown. Would you be so kind?"

  "I don’t think . . ." He mopped his forehead again and stared at the gown that was about to fall away from her. "All right. Turn around."

  As she turned, Annalisa tried to calm her ragged breathing. She couldn’t bear the thought of this man’s hands touching her. But he mustn’t suspect that anything was wrong. One misstep now and there would be no going back.

  As he bent to his task, Lafourcade never even heard the slight rustling sound as Jessie stepped away from the wall and came up behind him. Lifting his hand high, the giant thrust the shard of porcelain between Lafourcade’s shoulders, piercing his heart.

  Annalisa heard his soft hiss of breath, then was pulled aside by one of Jessie’s strong hands as Lafourcade’s body pitched forward. From a ring of keys on the wall, Jessie unlocked the leg irons holding Chase and Luther.

  Annalisa stood over the body of the young boy, feeling a tightening in her throat. Who was this child? What had they done to him?

  "We have no time to waste," Chase called. "Luther, you take the lead. Annalisa." Taking her arm, he led her away from the corpse. "Stick close to Luther. Jessie and I will take up the rear. We’ll head for the barn. No time to saddle. Just mount and run. Now."

  Charging up the steps, Annalisa cursed the gown that kept falling off her shoulders, whose skirt kept tangling in her running legs. Stepping out of it, she felt Chase’s arms come around he
r. Sensing her problem, he had stripped his shirt and was wrapping it around her nakedness. Slipping her arms through the sleeves, she continued running.

  Once in the barn, Luther hoisted her on the back of a chestnut gelding, then pulled himself onto a big, bay mare. As they began galloping down the drive, Chase pulled himself up behind Annalisa. Jessie caught his hands in the mane of a palomino stallion and urged him into a run.

  Despite voices in the yard behind them, no one looked back. No one slowed down. The horses ran until the town of New Orleans was far behind them, and the tall live oaks of the familiar house of pleasure loomed before them. Dismounting, Chase slapped the flanks of each horse, sending them trotting back to their own stable. And only when they had let themselves into the house and braced a chair against the door did they finally give in to the realization that they had actually escaped.

  The women came running from every corner of the house. Eulalie threw herself into Luther’s arms and smothered him in kisses.

  Hattie Lee, looking haggard, came to stand beside Jessie. After a long, lingering look, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and drew her close. Neither spoke. Neither needed to.

  Chase took one look at Annalisa’s pale features and was the first to break the silence.

  "Hattie Lee, Annalisa needs her wounds tended to. And then, what she needs more than anything, is sleep." Lifting her in his arms, he said, "Send for Dr. Lynch." As Annalisa opened her mouth, he snapped, "And this time there will be no argument."

  "Before you two go upstairs," Hattie Lee said in a strangely subdued voice, "there’s something you need to know."

  With Annalisa’s head against his shoulder, Chase turned.

  "Jasper Willis has apparently found some back taxes that were never paid on Nate Blackwell’s property." As Annalisa raised her head in surprise, Hattie Lee went on, "The captain of Nate’s boat was ordered to be prepared to turn it over to the proper authorities tonight. Willis has a buyer, not only for the boat, but for all of the Blackwell land as well."