Bayou Bride

by Bobbi Smith

  "Weddington," Jordan began as sternly as she could, "this is something I don't want to talk about. I'm leaving Riverwood this morning, and I called for the maid so she could help me finish packing."

  As the head servant in the household, Weddington had always managed to maintain his dignity, but Jordan's departure shocked him so badly that he couldn't refrain from voicing his opinion. "But you can't leave!" he protested. "Mr. Nick needs you now. What would he do without you?"

  At the mention of her "husband," Jordan stiffened. "Nick will do very well without me," she stated curtly.

  "Oh, no, ma'am. He loves you, and if you leave him now, right after Mr. Charles has died, well..."

  "Weddington." She put all the imperiousness she could manage into her tone. She couldn't discuss this with him. She couldn't humiliate them both. She would leave the explanations to Nick. They were his servants and he could tell them whatever he thought appropriate. All she wanted to do was go. "Trust me when I say that Nick is in full agreement with my departure. There is no point in talking about it. My plans are made, and I'll be leaving as soon as a steamer pulls in at the landing."

  The shock on the butler's face turned slowly to sorrow as he realized he was helpless to dissuade her. "Miss Jordan, would it help if I said I didn't want you to go? Riverwood needs you."

  The tenderness in his voice was unmistakable, and Jordan had to choke back the quick tears that threatened. She was standing with her back to him, folding the last of her garments, and her arms dropped wearily in a defeated motion. "Oh, Weddington..." she sighed. "I'm sorry. I really am, but this is the way it has to be."

  He knew it would be best not to press, so he acquiesced. "Yes, ma'am. Shall I see your things down to the dock for you?"

  "Yes, please." With an effort, she resumed her controlled demeanor. This was what she had to do, so she would do it quickly and get it over with.

  It was only a short time later when Weddington returned to her room. A slave boy had run up from the cabins with a message for Jordan from Philip, and Weddington was relaying it.

  "Miss Jordan, Mr. Montgomery has sent word that a steamer should be docking within the half hour." He was puzzled at Philip's involvement in her plans, but knew it was not his place to remark on it.

  "Thank you. Have all my things been delivered to the landing?"

  "Yes, ma'am," he answered respectfully.

  "Good. I guess I might as well go on down there to wait..."

  Jordan cast a longing glance around the room. She stared at the wide, comfortable bed and couldn't help but remember the hours of passion she and Nick had shared there. Jordan realized that she could have been happy here ...if only things had been different. With a heavy sigh she turned her back on the bedroom and everything it stood for and walked away.

  As Jordan made her way down the upstairs hall, she had to force herself not to pause before Charles's door. She missed him dreadfully. Squaring her shoulders in an unconscious gesture that nonetheless bolstered her flagging spirits, she descended the staircase.

  Jordan's heart was pounding as she reached the main hall, for she feared a possible confrontation with Nick, but luckily he was nowhere to be seen. Her relief was tremendous. She strode from the house and with the waiting driver's help climbed into the small, open carriage Weddington had ordered brought around for her.

  Struggling with all her might to keep from showing the heartbreak she was feeling, Jordan kept her gaze fixed straight ahead. She refused to look back at the house and she refused to think about never seeing Nick again. Weddington, however, was not about to let her go that easily. He had to say good-bye.

  "Miss Jordan..." His deep voice was filled with poignant emotion as he came to the side of the carriage. "Miss Jordan... It isn't going to be the same without you.,,

  Unable to resist his unspoken plea, she turned to take his hand. "Thank you."

  "Yes, ma'am." He saw the glittering pain in her brilliant gaze and knew there was more to her leaving than he could ever hope to fathom. "Miss Jordan, if Mr. Nick needs to get in touch with you where will you be?"

  "I'll be traveling to New Orleans first. After that, I'm not sure..."

  The carriage started to roll. Weddington was forced to let go of her hand and step back. He watched her ride away, not understanding how Nick could just let her go without a word.

  Jordan hadn't meant to let her emotions get the best of her. She hadn't meant to break down. But the pain of this final separation was so devastating that she couldn't help herself. She called out to the driver to stop, and she leaned out of the carriage to call to Weddington.

  Thrilled, the servant rushed forward to see what she wanted. He hoped that she'd changed her mind, but his hopes were crushed.

  "Weddington... take care of Nick for me..." was all she could say. Wiping away her tears, she ordered the driver, "All right, you can go on now."

  With a slap of the reins, the carriage moved off, leaving the butler in total confusion. If she cared so much about Nick, why in the world was she leaving him?

  Weddington stood rooted where he was for a moment, then turned and ran back into the house. Generally, when things were none of his business, he kept out of them. But this time was different. Something was terribly wrong, and he was going to talk to Nick about it right now. He raced into the house and went straight to the study, knocking loudly at the door.

  "Mr. Nick, I need to talk to you! It's important," he spoke in a loud voice, for he knew Nick had drunk himself into a stupor the night before and would not be easy to wake up this morning.

  Nick had been asleep in the chair, but at Weddington's summons he came awake with a start. His uncomfortable position, not to mention his pounding head, rendered him stiff and miserable. Noticing that it was daylight, he pushed himself into a semblance of an upright position, then he shouted out in annoyance for the servant to enter.

  "What the hell do you want now? Didn't I tell you I wanted to be left alone?" he growled, glaring at the butler with bleary, bloodshot eyes.

  "Mr. Nick," the butler began with urgency as he crossed the room to confront him. He paid no attention to his bad mood. This was too serious a problem to ignore. Something had to be done and quickly, before the boat showed up. "Miss Jordan's leaving, sir. You've got to stop her!"

  Nick stared at him dazedly. It was really happening. She was actually leaving. After a moment, he snorted in disgust. "Is that what you woke me up for? Is that all you wanted to tell me? I could have told you that last night and saved you the trouble of worrying about it."

  "But Mr. Nick! You've got to do something! You can't just let her leave!"

  "The hell I can't!" he shouted, smashing his fist on the desktop. "Get out!"

  Weddington was stunned by his reaction. "Mr. Nick, you mean you're just going to let Miss Jordan go? You're not going to try to stop her?"

  Nick turned a frightfully threatening glare on him as he retorted, "I didn't stammer or stutter, did I? I said, get the hell out of here and leave me alone, and I meant it!"

  Weddington couldn't imagine what was happening, but he did as he was told. "Yes, sir." As he reached the door, Nick called out to him.

  "And Weddington."

  "Yes, sir?" he asked, holding himself rigid as he turned to face him.

  "I don't ever want to hear Jordan's name mentioned in this house again, do you understand me?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Tell all the other servants, too."

  "Yes, sir." With that he was gone.

  Nick sat there, shaking with the force of the raw emotions he was trying to quell. Against his better judgment he got up from the desk and went to the window. He could see the open carriage with Jordan in it making its way down the landing road, and his hands clenched into fists of fury at his sides.

  Nick watched until the carriage had disappeared from view and then turned away. On impulse, he started for the study door, intending to stop her, wanting with all his heart to bring her back. His hand was already
on the doorknob when he brought himself up short. He tore himself violently away from the door, knowing he couldn't go after her. She didn't want to come back. She didn't love him. She wanted Montgomery. She had from the start, and the other man was probably waiting there on the landing for her right now.

  In an uncontrolled fit of frustration, Nick slammed his fist against the wall with all his power. The plaster cracked beneath the force of his blow, but the pain in his hand was nothing compared to the piercing agony in his heart.

  Ignoring his throbbing hand, Nick stalked to the liquor cabinet and snatched the last decanter of bourbon. In his need for a stiff drink, he didn't even bother with a glass but wandered out through the open French doors onto the gallery, drinking straight from the bottle. Nick stood at the rail, swigging the liquor and trying without success to force Jordan from his thoughts.

  The steamboat gave a mournful whistle as it pulled into Riverwood's dock, and Nick found himself staring off in the direction of the landing. A part of him wanted to run after her, to beg her not to go, but his pride held him immobile. He remained where he was. When he heard the steamer reverse engines and back out to mid-stream, he knew it was over. Jordan and Montgomery were gone. That part of his life was finished.

  Nick stood there alone for a long time, then went back inside. He continued to drink uninterrupted for the balance of the morning as he wandered listlessly through the empty house. There seemed to be no point to anything any more. The future stretched bleak and empty before him. The more he drank, the more he searched for some meaning to life, some reason to go on.

  By mid-afternoon-and after a half a bottle of bourbon - Nick finally realized that there was something he had to do. Before meeting Jordan, his driving motivation had been finding the owners of the Sea Demon. He would return to that grim goal now. It gave him a renewed sense of purpose.

  Though Nick knew Slater's plan was to wait until the ship could be caught and then bring in some of his government associates to make the arrests, Nick didn't want to delay any longer. He knew who the rotten bastard was who owned the ship, and, as of the meeting with him yesterday, he knew right where he lived in New Orleans.

  In a haze of drunken determination, Nick decided it was time to take some kind of action. He needed to feel as if he were in control of something in his life. He didn't want to wait any longer. He would go get Kirkwood and bring him to justice. Now.

  Setting the half-empty decanter aside, Nick crossed the study to the gun case. Kirkwood was obviously a killer who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals, so Nick knew it would not be wise to face him unarmed.

  "Mr. Kirkwood, sir, you have a visitor," the maid informed him.

  Julian looked up, puzzled, from where he sat in his office going over some reports. "Who is it? I wasn't expecting anyone today...

  "A Mr. Dominic Kane, sir. He said it was important that he see you right away. Something about business..."

  "Kane's here?" Now he was truly surprised, and he frowned, wondering what could have brought him into town today. "Send him in, please."

  "Yes, sir. Right away." She hurried off to do his bidding.

  Nick was quickly ushered into the office. The maid left immediately, knowing Kirkwood didn't like anyone eavesdropping on his private affairs.

  "Kane, it's good to see you again. I hadn't expected to see you again so soon. Is there a problem?"

  The ride into town had done nothing to clear Nick's head. If anything, he was even more convinced that he was doing the right thing. He was angry and frustrated, and he needed to do something about it. "You're the problem, Kirkwood," he answered succinctly.

  "I am?" he drawled. "Well, this sounds interesting. Have a seat and let's talk," Julian invited, trying to gauge his mood and figure out what was bothering him.

  "The only one of us who's going to do any talking, is you, to the authorities."

  "Excuse me?" Julian tensed, his hand slowly moving to reach for the desk drawer where he kept a small derringer hidden.

  "Don't bother going for a gun," Nick directed, drawing his own sidearm. "It's over. I'm taking you in for illegal slave running. I want to see you pay for what you've done."

  Julian gave a low, threatening laugh as he realized that Nick had been drinking. "Come, come, Kane. What are you talking about? You're one of my prime investors. We have a business deal."

  "That was all just a sham just to draw you out. MacKenzie and I have been tracking you down ever since we were passengers on the Sea Demon some months ago, when the captain was cornered by government ships. I saw what happened to the slaves on board. The orders that they be drowned to save the ship were yours. You are directly responsible for all their deaths, and I want to see justice done."

  Nick was so intent on trapping Kirkwood he didn't hear the man come into the room behind him. The vicious blow to the back of his head took him completely by surprise. Defenseless, he collapsed unconscious on the floor.

  "Well done, my dear Luther," Julian gloated as he rose from the desk. "You couldn't have come downstairs at a better time."

  "You're right about that, Julian. After all these months, it seems my luck has finally taken a turn for the better. Yesterday I saw that little bitch for the first time, and today Kane walked right into our midst. If you only knew how hard I've been searching for Jordan. I've had detectives looking for her on two continents for months, and all this time she was right here..."

  "I had no idea until yesterday, when you arrived so unexpectedly, that you were looking for her. Not that it would have mattered, though, for I'd only met her that one brief time in London, and I didn't even remember what she looked like. How did you find out she was in the area?"

  "I have my ways," he replied elusively. "Sometimes it may take a little longer than usual to get the information I need, but I always get what I want in the end."

  Julian smirked sharkishly. "That's why I like you, Luther. You always end up on top of everything."

  "It's a shame Miss Jordan St. James isn't as smart as you are, Julian, my friend."

  "You never did tell me what you wanted with her. What did she do to make you so angry?"

  "I have a personal score to settle with the little slut." Then realizing that he sounded like a lover scorned, he quickly added, "She stole some important papers from my office, and I mean to get them back,"

  "Do you think she was working with Kane, helping him set this up?"

  "No. She didn't even know him when the slaves were dumped. She was still in England then." He quickly dismissed the thought of her having any involvement in Nick's plans, for his sources had traced Jordan through the indentures to Mobile, where she'd met Kane, and that had only been a very short time ago. He wasn't quite sure how her relationship had evolved from hired servant to wife, and it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he'd found her, and now he was going to have her to himself.

  "What about what he said about turning me in for the Sea Demon?"

  "Don't worry about it. They can't do anything without proof, and if they'd had it, they would have arrested you before now. Besides, the game has changed. Now we've got Kane. I don't think anyone will be giving us any trouble, do you?"

  They laughed together, heady with the power they wielded.

  "What can I do to help you?" Julian offered.

  "Let's get him tied and gagged and out of here."

  "Right," he agreed, hurrying off to get some rope and a rag.

  Jealousy filled Luther as he stared down at Nick. How dare Jordan refuse him, yet marry this man? He was going to make them both suffer, and he was going to enjoy every minute of it! Luther knelt beside Nick and took his pistol.

  "Here, Julian, do something with this," he said when his partner returned. He handed him the gun and took the ropes from him.

  In short order Nick was bound and gagged.

  "Let's take him upstairs. There's an extra room that's never used."

  Making sure there were no servants around, they carried him upstai
rs and left him there, locking the door behind them.

  "Now that I'm sure Kane's not going anywhere, I know exactly what I'm going to do. I have a note I want to send..."

  It was near dark when Weddington heard the call that there was a rider coming up the drive. He was half expecting it to be Nick returning home, and he went out with a lantern to greet him. The man who rode up to the house, though, was a scurrilous-looking stranger.

  "This the Kane plantation?" he asked abruptly, not bothering with pleasantries. He did not even dismount, but remained in the saddle as if anxious to be gone.

  "Who wants to know?" he inquired cautiously.

  "That don't matter. I got an important letter here for a Mrs. Jordan Kane, and I'm supposed to deliver it to her myself."

  Weddington had no idea what was going on, but he Wasn't about to let this lowlife know that Jordan wasn't there. "I'm Mrs. Kane's personal servant. I'll see that she gets it."

  "I got to give it to her myself," the filthy messenger insisted.

  "I'm sorry, but that's impossible. Mrs. Kane has already retired for the night. You can rest assured that I will see the note delivered, however."

  The man wavered, and then, after considering the long ride back to the city, he agreed. "All right, here." He thrust the envelope at Weddington.

  The butler glanced down at the missive and saw only For Jordan Kane-Personal written on the front. "I take it there's much urgency to this?"

  "There sure is. Why else would he have hired me to ride all the way out here at this time of night?"

  "Who is he?"

  "Damned if I know. Some well-dressed fellow found me at the tavern and asked me if I wanted to make some easy money. I ain't one to turn down a fast profit, if you know what I mean."

  "I know what you mean," Weddington replied with disdain, and he watched until the rider had galloped off into the night.

  Turning his attention back to the letter, Weddington debated what to do. Had Nick been there, he would have given it to him, but in his absence, he knew he had to take charge. Since the note sounded extremely important, he made up his mind to go find Jordan and deliver the letter. He knew it might take a while to locate her, but he had to make the effort.