The Sea Hawk

by Brenda Adcock

  "Are you all right, Simone?" Julia lifted the cover and looked at the bandage covering the wound. "I should change that."

  "No, no. I am fine. There is a miraculous healing quality in your kisses and touches. I shall have to keep you in case I am injured again." Leaning down, she kissed Julia's forehead and began making her way down her cheek toward her mouth, her hand drifting up Julia's abdomen and stroking the warm silken softness of her breast.

  "Oh, no, you don't!" Julia laughed, holding her at bay. "You are going to rest now and I am going to find some breakfast for us."

  Simone groaned as she fell back onto her pillow. "Is this what I have to look forward to as we grow old and gray? Being rejected by the woman I desire? And in my own bed?"

  Julia stood and looked around for something to cover her naked body. "First of all, my dear Captain, this is not your bed," she said as she bent to look at the foot of the bed. "And second...aha," she continued as she found a nightgown and pulled it over her head, "second, we will have many more nights to look forward to together in the years to come." She moved to the side of the bed and lowered her mouth to Simone's. "And third, I hope you will always desire me as you did last night. Only a fool would reject you," she whispered as she kissed Simone. "I am no fool."

  AFTER ASSISTING SIMONE into the shirt she slept in and finding a robe to wear over her nightgown, Julia opened the shutters a few inches and let fresh air into the bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she walked along the second story balcony and took wrought iron steps into the open courtyard she was sure was filled with flowering plants in the spring and summer months. Crossing the paved walkway which was hidden from the street by a high gated fence, she hummed quietly to herself as she opened the door leading into the kitchen and dining area of the French-style home. Perhaps when, or if, she returned to her home on Tybee Island, she would repaint it in bright colors to remind her of her stay in the real New Orleans. She frowned as she shook her head. She would never return to Tybee Island. To go home would mean losing Simone and that was unthinkable. This was where she belonged. Simone was the woman with whom she would spend the remainder of her life.

  Glancing into the dining room, she spotted Joaquin sitting at the main table. Entering the large room, she smiled down at him and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Good morning, Joaquin. Did you sleep well last night?"

  He looked up at her and nodded. "Is Faucon well this morning?"

  "She is growing stronger each day. Perhaps after she has a little something to eat she will feel even better."

  "May I take breakfast to her?"

  "Of course you may. I know she would very much like to see you. Help me?"

  Joaquin helped Julia prepare coffee, juice, and cut up fruit and set it on a tray. "Monsieur Livingston brought beignets this morning," Joaquin said.

  "Then beignets it shall be. Tell Simone I will be up in a little bit to help her out of bed." Julia smiled as she watched Joaquin carefully carrying the tray across the courtyard while she prepared a cup of chicory for herself. She watched the boy enter Simone's room. Suddenly the hair along the back of her neck prickled and she rubbed at it absently. Feeling as if someone was watching her she turned to find Esperanza standing in the shadow of the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. "Good morning, Esperanza," she said quietly.

  "Good morning, Mademoiselle. Is Simone rested this morning?"

  "Yes. I think we might be able to let her join us downstairs later. I'm sure she would enjoy being with other people for a change. She is still a little weak, but improving with each day." Although from her performance the night before, Julia thought any lack of stamina on her lover's part now was more likely from exhaustion than her injury.

  Esperanza slowly walked across the kitchen and folded her arms over her chest as she gazed out the window into the courtyard. Without looking at Julia, she spoke. "Simone saved my life five years ago. Since that time she has cared of me and my son. I have been her lover for four of those years." She glanced quickly at Julia then shifted her eyes away before taking a deep breath. "I have had her body many times," she said in a low voice. Facing Julia she continued, "But I have never had her heart. She has saved it for someone else and now, unless I am mistaken, she has given it away."

  Julia could think of no response to what Esperanza was saying and could only stare into the cooling cup in her hands. "I cannot say I do not envy you," Esperanza went on. "Simone is a woman of deep passion, but has never looked at me the way she looks at you. She cannot deny her desires even though she has tried. What lives in the heart cannot be denied. Now you must care for her. She deserves nothing less."

  "I--I don't know what to say, Esperanza. It was never my intention..."

  "No one can predict these things. I wish you no ill-will. But it would be a lie to say I will not miss her."

  "What about Joaquin?"

  "He is my son by birth alone. I care for him, but not as Simone does. I would never attempt to keep them apart."

  "I hope one day you and I will become friends. You have a place in Simone's life as well," Julia said.

  "I have done terrible things to you."

  "Nothing more than any woman in love and seeing it slip away wouldn't have done. No one has been harmed."

  Esperanza pushed herself away from the counter and extended her hand to Julia, who took it gratefully.

  Chapter Eighteen

  WHEN JEAN LAFFITE entered a home his presence commanded everyone's attention. His appearance at the home of Edward Livingston late on the afternoon of December sixteenth was no less an event than if he had suddenly made an appearance before the city's constable. A flurry of activity began as soon as he swept into the house and would, no doubt, continue until his departure. Tossing his hat and coat to Livingston's housekeeper, Laffite strode into the living room. Simone was reclining on the divan chatting with Julia. Laffite stopped in front of Simone and, placing his hands on his hips, smiled down at her.

  "On your feet, woman!" he demanded. "We have business to discuss."

  "Captain Moreau is still recovering from her injuries, Mr. Laffite," Julia protested.

  Laffite's smile widened, flashing amazingly white teeth beneath his black moustache as he shifted his gaze to Julia.

  "If I should become injured I pray I would have as beautiful a nurse," he said. Shrugging, he took a nearby side chair and pulled it closer to the sofa. "But, alas, I would most likely be saddled with Pierre once again."

  Julia looked quizzically at Simone who smiled and said, "His brother, my dear."

  "I am pleased to see you survived your encounter with the British, Simone. How much longer will you be recuperating?"

  "I am fine now, Jean."

  "The British fleet arrived at Lake Borgne four days ago."

  "How many ships?"

  "My observers say the line of ships stretched beyond the horizon. The Americans had little with which to combat them. Pesky resistance at best."

  "I will not risk my ships or men to fight an armada, Jean. There is no cause worth a fight that cannot be won."

  "You must come with me tomorrow. Livingston has arranged a meeting with General Jackson at his headquarters. We must convince him to accept our assistance in repelling the British. Together we command a thousand experienced fighters and cannoneers."

  "You will be arrested as soon as you show your face, Jean. These ideals you have become so enamored of surely are not worth the risk of your life."

  Laffite waved a small hand in dismissal. "Livingston will be arriving soon with the necessary paperwork to assure my continued freedom. They forget that I am Jean Laffite, a French-born citizen in a French city. There are few Americans here, my friend. I have asked that you be included in the paperwork to protect you as well."

  "Thank you, Jean. I plan to leave the city soon to begin a new life," Simone said, looking at Julia.

  "Go with me tomorrow to speak to Jackson. Then if you still wish to retreat I will not prevent it."

  T
aking a deep breath, Simone nodded. "Very well. But I can promise nothing."

  ACCOMPANIED BY LAFFITE'S friend, Major Latour, Simone and Laffite, along with Edward Livingston, traveled to Jackson's headquarters on Rue de Royale by carriage the following afternoon. Simone was not optimistic they would be received favorably by the American commander as they waited to be seen. Jackson had turned down all previous offers of assistance from Laffite, openly declaring him and his men nothing more than bandits and common criminals. Julia told Simone General Jackson was ill, but continued to assure her the Americans would defeat the British. Her confidence seemed unshakable although Simone didn't know the basis for her lover's beliefs. Nothing Simone had observed convinced her the city could be successfully defended.

  An aide to General Jackson escorted the small party into Jackson's office. As they entered the room, Simone saw an old man slowly push his body up from where he was lying on an overstuffed divan. Livingston stepped forward and waited until the emaciated-looking man stood erectly in front of them. Jackson's blue eyes slowly scanned the small group in front of him. "General, may I present Monsiour Jean Laffite and Captain Simone Moreau. They have come to offer their services in defending the city of New Orleans from the British."

  In a stronger voice than Simone would have thought possible, Jackson replied. "I have already rejected the assistance of these individuals, Mr. Livingston. I do not believe there is anything to be gained by further discussion."

  Laffite stepped forward and touched Livingston on the arm before he could reply. "Excuse me, mon Général, it is not my intention to grovel before you and beg for the opportunity to be wounded or killed," Laffite began as he stepped closer to the tall American leader. "However, if you will allow me to present my offer once again I am confident we can reach an agreement. Edward, perhaps you would be so kind as to pour us each a glass of brandy to ward off the chill in the air."

  Laffite looked around the office at maps and diagrams which hung on the walls. When Livingston handed him a glass of brandy, he drank it down in a single swallow. "Please, have a seat, Général," he said. "I have heard you are ill. Please."

  Simone accepted a glass from Livingston and watched Jackson closely. When they entered the room he appeared somewhat hostile to their appearance. The look on his face was now one of interest as Laffite spoke. She always found Laffite to be a charming and persuasive man. Perhaps Jean was not turning out to be what Jackson was expecting. Surely he expected a pirate, complete with eye patch and a scarf tied around his head. Now he was no doubt surprised at the well-mannered gentleman standing before him.

  "Let us evaluate what is available to defend our city," Laffite said, walking about the room, still gazing at the maps. "The city itself affords some natural protection by virtue of the swamps surrounding it and the river. It would be difficult for an army to simply march into the city other than from the south, here," he said as he pointed to an area which had been cleared for plantations. "As I am sure you are aware, Général, the British fleet has already made anchorage near Lake Borgne to the north of the Chandeleur Islands. If I commanded the British troops that are landing, even as we speak, it would merely be a matter of transporting them across Lake Borgne and moving them through the marshes to this point south of the city. What does your naval commander have to stop them?"

  "Commodore Patterson had five gunboats defending Lake Borgne, but they were no match for the British gunboats bringing troops across. I have ordered all passages through the swamps along the southern shore of the lake blockaded," Jackson said wearily.

  "It is likely the major batteries of British troops will form here, near the Villere plantation. Captain Moreau was detained near that location briefly by an advanced party. Before they can be fully reinforced, we must attack them."

  "My men have enough rifles, pistols and cannons, but there is scarcely a flint to be found for the rifles and little gunpowder or ammunition for the cannons."

  Chuckling, Laffite said, "If I am not mistaken, sir, many of your cannons were, until recently, my personal property. However, despite that, I am prepared to provide you with an unlimited supply of flints and more gunpowder and ammunition than you will need from my personal stores. Your navy has two ships with excellent firepower."

  "Commodore Patterson tells me the most heavily armed corvette, the Louisiana, cannot leave the wharf because she does not have enough crewmen to man her sufficiently. Only the sloop-of-war Carolina has a crew sufficient for the task."

  Looking at Simone, Laffite said, "The members of our crews are all experienced sailors and trained cannoneers. Your troops will need guides to lead them through the swamps. I offer you not only the services of my men and those of Captain Moreau, but the ammunition and gunpowder you need."

  "What do you demand as repayment for this generous offer?"

  "Captain Moreau and I ask for nothing more than amnesty for ourselves and our men. We also request Letters of Marque allowing us to serve the American government once the safety of New Orleans has been secured."

  Jackson rubbed his face with a long thin hand and looked from Laffite to Simone. "Is this arrangement satisfactory to you as well, Madam?"

  With a simple nod Simone committed her crews to the service of General Jackson in defending the city. By the time they left Jackson's headquarters Simone was assigned as a gun captain aboard the sloop Carolina. Anton would be aboard the newly completed and much larger Louisiana. Laffite was named Jackson's aide-de-camp, charged with supervising the defenses into the city from his former headquarters on Barataria Bay to the southwest.

  DESPITE THE DANGER gathering outside the city, the citizens of New Orleans tried valiantly to maintain as normal a life as possible. Julia couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so contented. She'd found the love she always wanted. She loved and gave of herself passionately and she knew, without a doubt, she was loved in return. Nothing could dampen her spirits as preparations for the annual Winter Ball continued unabated in the Livingston household. The people of New Orleans, a celebratory holiday notwithstanding, appeared reassured since the arrival of General Jackson. Periodic skirmishes had not reached the city and remained confined to a line ten miles south of the city. She knew the city itself would never be involved in the direct fighting, that Jackson and his makeshift army would be successful in protecting the city and repelling the British, thereby securing the valuable southern port. She knew General Jackson would go on to even greater things, his political future resting on his legend as the hero of the Battle of New Orleans. Her knowledge of what was to come helped her remain calm.

  The Livingston household staff spent days preparing the elegant home for the Livingston's annual party. Boughs of evergreens lined the staircases and mantles and the entire house glowed with the spirit of the season. Julia bartered to purchase a small gift for Simone. She hadn't seen Simone in three days due to the preparations on board the Carolina. Laffite kept his part of the agreement with Jackson and a steady flow of ammunition and gunpowder to the two warships had begun. When Simone appeared unexpectedly at Julia's bedside late the night before, she had been appropriately welcomed. Julia smiled at the memory. She had never felt so wanton in expressing her feelings before. A smile crossed her lips as she thought about her lover sleeping soundly in their upstairs room.

  Julia was preparing a cup of chicory, a substance she was quickly becoming addicted to, when Mrs. Livingston joined her in the kitchen.

  "Ah, good morning, Miss Blanchard," Mrs. Livingston greeted her. "Are you looking forward to the party this evening?"

  "It sounds delightful. I wish I had something more suitable to wear, but Kitty and I have been mending and cleaning our things."

  Mrs. Livingston tilted her head and looked at Julia. "You know," she said as she blew on her coffee to cool it slightly, "I think I might have something that would fit you perfectly. Unfortunately, I have indulged in too many rich foods over the past two or three years and don't have time to have it altered. Once I was a s
lender little thing such as you. If it fits, you are more than welcome to wear it this evening. It would look wonderful with your hair color and complexion."

  "I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Livingston, but I--"

  "I would feel slighted, my dear, if you refused my offer. I insist."

  BY SEVEN ON the evening of December twenty-second, guests began arriving through the courtyard of the Livingston home. Candles cast pinpoints of light through the gardens and across the wrought iron galleries. Julia was nervous as she looked at her reflection in a standing beveled mirror, turning from side to side. She would never have thought she could wear such a garment and feel comfortable. The material was soft flowing maroon velvet. The center of the dress, which had an alluringly revealing neckline, was a cream, satin-backed material, crisscrossed with gold and black embroidered filigree outlining inset maroon pieces. Black and gold filigree ran around the gown at mid-calf. From there to the floor the gown glittered with black and gold metallic threads in a delicate embroidered pattern.

  She adjusted the long sleeves of the gown, pulling a small loop over each middle finger assuring the sleeves remained in place. A crème inset ran the outside length of each sleeve. Satisfied with her appearance, she pulled a crème cashmere shawl embroidered with black, maroon and gold edging around her shoulders, letting it drape over her arms and down her back. She knew Simone would be surprised, but hoped it proved a pleasant one. Although not something Julia would have ordinarily worn in her other life, it made her feel amazingly feminine.

  She made her way along the gallery and onto a second floor landing leading to the carved staircase to the main floor. As she paused at the top of the staircase, she saw dozens of guests milling around below her. It was like everything she had read about in history books as a girl. No one would ever believe her.