The Sea Hawk

by Brenda Adcock

  "What happened?" Julia mumbled.

  "You fainted."

  "I'm sorry."

  "No need to be. We finished what needed to be done. Thank you." Julia felt fingertips brush along the side of her face and across her forehead.

  "How is Pierre?"

  "He is resting below. A friend is keeping watch over him tonight, along with a bottle of rum."

  "I am fine now, Captain. I should return to my quarters. All I need is a good night's sleep."

  "You may stay here, if you wish."

  Julia reached up and pulled the cloth from her eyes. Simone sat beside her on the bed. It was dark in the Captain's quarters save for a single candle on the washstand near the bed. In the candlelight, Simone was breathtakingly beautiful as the dim light cast reddish-orange shadows across her face. Julia brought her hand up to touch Simone's face, but stopped herself. "You need to rest as well, Captain. It has been a very long day. Where is Joaquin?"

  "He has been asleep for an hour or more already. When I was a child I could sleep through anything. It would be nice to have such a sleep again. Perhaps one day when I am away from the sea."

  Julia propped herself on an elbow and turned sideways on the bed. Scooting to the far side of the bed, she said, "I sleep better when I am not alone. If you don't mind, I will accept your offer to stay here."

  Simone rose and went to her desk. As she sat and opened her journal, she said, "I must write the day's events in my journal. Please rest."

  WARMTH ENGULFED JULIA. She smiled in her sleep as she fell deeper into her dream. She felt safe, but could feel her body react to the images in the dream. She stirred slightly, her body seeking the source of her arousal. She sensed a presence behind her and edged her hips toward it until they fit into a solid curve. Movement against her back and warm breath along her neck sent a shiver through her. A strong arm encircling her waist pulled her closer and a voice sighed in contentment as a knee rose to rest along the back of her thighs. Her hips moved and her legs parted, seeking to increase the contact. She gasped as she felt a hand slip slowly up her side, stroking and teasing the curve of her breast. Soft lips of an unseen lover moved down the side of her neck and across her bare shoulders. Her body reacted to the teasing touches, setting her on fire inside. She tried to move to take in her lover's face, but was held in place by the strong arm around her. As fingertips trailed between her breasts and made their way down toward her hairline, she lifted her hips to greet them, to welcome them into the refuge of her body. She saw a flash of short dark hair as lips traveled around her neck. "Simone," she breathed.

  SIMONE WROTE IN her journal, occasionally stopping to watch the sleeping woman in her bed. What would it feel like to drape an arm over Julia's waist, breathing in her scent? she wondered. There was something unusual about Julia Blanchard and Simone wished she could have the opportunity to discover her secrets one by one. Turning back to her journal she sketched Julia's face. It joined others she had drawn during their voyage, each attempting to catch the fire in her eyes, the up-turn of her lips just before they parted in a smile. Her attention to her drawing was interrupted by the sound of Julia breathing her name

  "Julia," Simone said as she stood next to the bed. "Julia, are you ill?"

  Julia blinked her eyes open to see Simone standing over her. "What is it?" she asked.

  "I heard you call my name in your sleep while I wrote in my journal. Are you having a bad dream?"

  Simone asked as she ran her hand across Julia's forehead. "You are very warm."

  "Yes. Yes, it must have been a dream," Julia said, sitting up. "I think perhaps I will take in some fresh air. Today has been quite stressful."

  Simone offered Julia her hand and helped her off the bed. They stood close to one another awkwardly for a moment before Simone reluctantly stepped back. "Perhaps you should eat something light as well," she suggested.

  "Yes, I will do that, Captain. Thank you," Julia said as she made her way to the door of the Captain's quarters.

  Chapter Thirteen

  JULIA MANAGED TO keep her distance from Simone, as well as maintain her sanity, the remainder of the voyage. The flotilla of ships was favored by northerly winds that carried them toward their destination without encountering additional British ships. Over dinner Simone surmised the British fleet may have curtailed their patrols in the Gulf of Mexico in preparation for their invasion along the American coast.

  It became a daily ritual for Julia to stand on the bow of Le Faucon each evening and watch the sun dip into the waters of the Gulf. She felt the sea breeze ruffle her hair and ran a hand through it. It hadn't been its current length in a very long time. She always kept it short, in part due to her work underwater, but primarily because she hated the natural waves that appeared to have an unruly mind of their own.

  "We will arrive at Bayou LaFourche soon," Simone said.

  Julia turned and smiled at the captain. "How can you tell?"

  The captain stepped next to her and squinted into the evening sky. She ran a hand up Julia's back and brought it to rest near the base of her neck. Julia shivered slightly at the touch. Pointing up Simone said, "The birds. They are never far from land."

  Julia gazed upward and watched gulls glide along the invisible air streams rising from the water. The autumn sea breeze cooled her skin and the warmth from Simone's touch spread quickly through her body. She took a deep breath to control her impulse to move closer against Simone, perhaps to be gathered protectively in her arms and... "Within a week we will be in New Orleans and you shall be free once more to resume your life," Simone said, breaking into Julia's private reverie.

  "It has been quite an adventure. An unforgettable one."

  "Will you return to your home in Georgia?"

  "Yes. I miss it as you miss your home on Martinique. But I will return to it not the same person as when I left."

  Simone looked down at her. "Perhaps this voyage has changed us both in some ways."

  "When this is over, perhaps one day you will visit Savannah. Parts of it, especially the lush greenery, remind me of Le Repos."

  "Faucon," a crewman interrupted. "Your dinner is in your quarters."

  "Merci, we shall be there shortly. Please inform Joaquin," Simone replied, not looking away from Julia's profile against the evening sky. She longed to feel the softness of the reddish-blonde hair under her fingertips and forced herself to turn away. She hadn't slept well since their encounter with the British ships. The lingering soft scent of Julia's body was imprinted on her pillow and bedding, yet she was unwilling to have it washed away. It crept into her senses as she slept, turning her rest into visions of desire. Offering her hand to Julia, she walked with her toward her cabin.

  JOAQUIN STOOD IN front of Julia as the ships entered the deep water channel of Timbalier Bay. Laffite sent word there was ample anchorage for their ships out of sight of other vessels that might happen past the bay. Even in the rainiest season Bayou LaFourche would not accommodate anything as large as the British sloops of war. From Timbalier it was only a short overland trip to Bayou LaFourche. Secreted along the marshy shore of the bayou were several pirogues. Laffite and his immediate party made their way north through the swampy bayou toward the home of a business associate, Alexandre LaBranche.

  Julia was awe-struck by the natural wild beauty of the area as crewmen poled through the waterway toward their destination. The tall grasses and marshes were home to a wide variety of birds and animals and she knew they were being observed as the boats moved quietly along. Everything was lush and beautiful while remaining wild and strangely eerie when seen through the gathering evening fog, not yet willing to surrender to the night. Snow-white egrets sailed over them and dipped close to the water before banking to settle in the shallow waters near solid land. Occasionally she heard the splashing sounds of fish jumping in and out of the water. Unseen currents moved without disturbing the surface. Julia felt incredibly relaxed and allowed her hand to trail in the water as the boat moved throug
h it. A light touch on her shoulder drew her attention to Simone who was seated behind her. "There are alligators in these waters, Mademoiselle."

  Simone chuckled as Julia jerked her hand from the water as if it were scalded. Julia dried her hand on the hem of her skirt and pulled Joaquin closer to her. There was little conversation to disturb the remainder of the evening quiet.

  Two hours later the small boats made their way into an open, wider expanse of water and Julia saw a huge mansion looming in the distance. She and Joaquin shared the pirogue with Laffite and Simone, while Kitty, Esperanza, and Anton were in the pirogue behind them. As they neared the eastern shore of the bayou plantation, Laffite stood and waited until they were close enough to step onto the small plantation dock. She heard voices not far away as she accepted Simone's hand and felt solid ground beneath her feet for the first time in nearly a month.

  The plantation home was a long two-story house in the French Creole style. Columns between the two stories supported a wide porch around the second floor. Considering its location near the river, Julia surmised the second floor served as protection from the river if it flooded. The silhouettes of numerous out building were scattered on one side and behind the main building.

  The group followed Laffite up a small rise toward the mansion and were greeted by a distinguished looking man in his mid-forties. Laffite and the man hugged briefly and exchanged kisses on the cheeks. Turning to the rest of his party, Laffite said, "My friends, this is our host and my very good friend, Alexandre LaBranche. He was generous enough to offer us the use of his home." LaBranche was nearly as tall as Laffite, Julia estimated about six feet. Whiskers grew along the sides of his face to nearly his chin. Julia wondered if that was the style for gentlemen in the early eighteen-hundreds since Laffite had the same. When the introductions were completed, LaBranche ordered additional pirogues sent back to Timbalier Bay to bring the remaining crew to his home.

  "Where are we?" Julia asked quietly as she walked beside Simone.

  "This area is called the German Coast," Simone answered. "It provides a means for Laffite to smuggle merchandise into New Orleans without interference from customs officials or anyone intent on severing trade into the city."

  "How far are we from New Orleans?"

  "Not far. Perhaps twenty miles. No more than that. But this is not an area that can be easily searched unless you know the passages in and out as Laffite does."

  Julia remembered seeing pictures of old Southern mansions and had visited a few which had been restored, but to actually see one in its own time period was amazing. She felt like a tourist as she gawked at the workmanship. Despite the darkness, she could clearly see the cypress boards near the entry held together by wooden pegs. Stepping into the front entryway, a disturbance behind her brought her attention back to the main portico.

  "The servant's quarters are behind the main house. You and the boy will have to go there," an older black man with graying hair told Esperanza and Joaquin as he stopped them from entering the house.

  "Take your hands off me," Esperanza spat at the man.

  When the man motioned with his head for assistance, Simone walked back to the door. "Excuse me, sir, but this woman and her son are with me. They are free and the property of no man."

  "My apologies, ma'am, but they cannot stay inside the main house," the man said calmly without raising his voice.

  "Ah, I understand," Simone nodded. Turning to face their host, she twisted her lips into a smile that frightened Julia. "Monsieur LaBranche, my party and I will be returning to our vessels." Glancing at Laffite, she continued, "It is apparent my assistance and that of my men is not needed here." Bowing slightly, she spun around and escorted Esperanza and Joaquin down the wide front walkway of the mansion.

  Julia admired Simone's refusal to turn her back on Esperanza and her son. Nodding to LaBranche and Laffite, Julia followed the trio ahead of her, as did Anton and Kitty.

  As Simone helped Esperanza and Joaquin onto the pirogue once more, Laffite appeared on the wharf behind her. "Simone, may I have a word?" he asked calmly. Julia watched Simone join him. They walked a short distance along the bank before stopping to exchange words, some of which appeared to be quite heated. Although Simone regarded Laffite as a comrade-in-arms and couldn't have cared less about his smuggling operations, she never liked the fact that part of his wealth was derived from the auction of slaves. It would have been an equally lucrative venture for her to become involved with, but memories of her time with Rochat would never allow her to become part of an enterprise which subjected others to the same abuse and humiliation she endured.

  Nearly an hour passed before the little group reentered LaBranche's home. Simone personally escorted Esperanza and Joaquin through the front door of the house, her eyes defying anyone to stop them, and up the spiral staircase to their rooms on the second floor. Remembering what Simone told her about the probable fate of Joaquin's father, Julia thought having Esperanza share a room with Simone quite possibly saved LeBranche's life. A servant escorted Julia to her own room a few minutes later.

  Dinner that evening was a quiet affair. Most of the discussion centered around getting into New Orleans as quickly as possible. Not wishing to subject Esperanza and her son to further inhospitable behavior, Simone lit a small black cigar at the end of the meal and said, "My party and I shall travel to New Orleans in the morning, Jean. I must deliver Mademoiselles Blanchard and Longmire to the Cabildo so they may be returned safely to their homes." Casting an apologetic glance at Esperanza, she continued, "My companion and her son wish to visit old friends in the city. We shall find accommodations there for the remainder of our stay and shall not be returning. I am certain you will be able to find me when necessary."

  Throughout dinner, Julia saw LaBranche observing Simone's interaction with Esperanza and Joaquin. He was clearly uncomfortable sharing dinner with them.

  She was startled when their host finally broke his silence. "Tell me, Miss Moreau, how long has this...lady been your companion?" he asked. Julia cringed at the contempt in his voice and shot a look toward Simone, awaiting her response.

  Simone picked up her wine glass from the table and emptied it in one swallow. "My liaison with Mademoiselle Batista is in its fifth year," she said, setting the glass down. "A longer period than your own liaisons each year following the Octoroon Ball, I would hazard to guess."

  Laffite threw his head back and laughed loudly as LaBranche's face reddened at Simone's implication. The remainder of the evening Julia watched Simone extend every courtesy to Esperanza. A touch here and there, designed to increase her host's discomfort. A whispered message followed by a smile, projecting the intimacy between them. Finally, to LaBranche's relief, Simone excused herself for the evening to escort Esperanza and Joaquin to their room. She nodded in Julia's direction and stopped for a moment.

  "We shall leave before dawn tomorrow, Mademoiselle Blanchard."

  Julia looked at her and smiled. "You were magnificent this evening, Captain."

  Simone bowed her head slightly and returned to Esperanza's side.

  Chapter Fourteen

  SIMONE'S PARTY LEFT LaBranche's plantation before dawn and made their way from the German Coast to New Orleans by pirogue, carrying little. They stepped onto the wharf near Canal Street, easily blending in with citizens busily going about their everyday business.

  They were a group of nine including Julia, Kitty, Anton, Esperanza, Joaquin, Simone, the first mate, Henri Archambault and two additional crew members Simone trusted. As soon as Julia and Kitty were safely deposited at the seat of government in New Orleans, the Cabildo, Simone and the remainder of her party planned to spread out through the city and send any news of British movements back to Laffite. They walked slowly along Decatur seeing nothing that appeared out of place. If the citizens of the city were aware of the danger coming their way, they seemed oblivious to it.

  The city was much smaller than Julia remembered, consisting primarily of only the elegant
nine by twelve block area known as the Vieux Carré, filled with wrought-iron galleries, narrow streets and open cafes. Muted multi-colored buildings adorned with shutters and peaked dormers sat flush against the banquettes that ran in front of each building. Julia noticed, even two hundred years before her visit with Amy, the streets teemed with people. As she drank in the sights and sounds of the enchanting city's bygone era, she passed fashionably dressed women wearing plumed bonnets, accompanied by gentlemen in cutaway coats smelling distinctively of bay rum at nearly every intersection. Even early in the morning merchants rushed from place to place setting their wares out for the inspection of potential customers, while barely clothed prostitutes strolled brazenly along the venues. The calls of colorful wagon venders extolling the uniqueness of their goods could be heard down each narrow street, accompanied by the clickety-clack of the wagon's wheels over the cobblestones.

  As the group made its way toward the former Spanish parade ground, Place d'Armes, in the center of the Vieux Carré, Julia's senses were inundated by the sights and smells along the few blocks from the wharf. From one block to the next she detected the scent of sugar cane, peanuts being boiled, the distinctive odors of various ales from taverns, imported spices from the Caribbean Islands and the sharp aromas greeting her from the French coffee houses. New Orleans in November 1814 was nothing like the city Julia visited with Amy. Although the streets of the French Quarter had changed considerably, Julia smiled as she recognized a few of the buildings. In modern New Orleans, the buildings were nothing more than establishments catering to tourists, selling souvenirs made in China or Taiwan rather than the businesses flourishing as she walked by them in the past.

  As they approached the Place d'Armes, Esperanza stopped Simone. Smiling at her lover, Simone raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question.