Travers laughed. “I hardly expected to be able to myself but as it happens, I have a very attractive stowaway on board my vessel.”
“A stowaway?” Lafitte asked, astonished.
“That’s right. She hid aboardFollansbeeinNew Orleans. We discovered her in the hold after the storm. She was badly bruised from being tossed around. I can’t take her with me, and I thought I would be able to leave her here. She would have a better life than with her former owner.”
“Former owner?” asked Cloud, unable to remain silent any longer. He wondered at the concern Travers seemed to have for the girl. If only he had shown that much compassion for Alexis. “The girl is a Negress?”
“Yes. A light-skinned one. An octoroon, I believe.”
“Did she tell you that herself?” Pierre asked.
“No. She has talked very little. We were able to discern that much from her ramblings while she was ill. As I mentioned, she was badly bruised and I instructed the ship’s surgeon to treat her. She has the mark of a whip and what little she said convinced us she was fleeing an abusive owner.”
“And you want me to take her off your hands?” Lafitte said.
“I would appreciate it,” Travers answered smoothly. “I do not want to send her back to New Orleans and I cannot keep her on the ship. It is too dangerous and she does present a problem for my men.”
“All right,” Jean agreed. “I will take her. She can help Jeannine in the kitchen.”
“Once you see her, I doubt if you will want to relegate her to cutting vegetables.”
“That will be my decision,” Lafitte said sharply. “Pierre, go with the captain and bring the girl to the drawing room. Captain Cloud and I will wait for you there.”
“She should be waiting outside. I told one of my men to bring her here.”
“You were so sure I would take her?”
“I thought you might want some proof of her beauty first.”
Lafitte sighed, hating the British commander a little more with each passing moment. “Since she is outside, you will come to the drawing room with us. Pierre, see to the girl. Have André prepare a room for her. If she is ill from her voyage have her rest. I will talk with her in the morning.”
The three men retired to the drawing room to begin the business at hand while Pierre went to the entrance hall. He opened the massive front door and stepped out onto the portico. He saw the woman immediately. She was huddled in an oversized cloak and leaning against one of the columns in a manner that suggested she needed it for support. The man at her side saw Pierre and offered the woman his arm. Pierre noticed she grasped it heavily.
“I will take her,” Pierre said, rushing to her side. “You can return to your ship. She will be staying here.” The man nodded and left hastily. “Mademoiselle, can you walk?” Alexis tossed the hood of her cape back and eyed the man who held her warily. Pierre caught his breath. Whatever else he thought of Travers he could not deny the commander had an eye for beautiful women. The strength of her grip on his arm did not seem consistent with her fragile appearance. He brushed back tendrils of golden hair from her cheeks, careful not to touch her bruised eye or jaw. When she was better he decided he would have to discover more about her. It was doubtful she was an octoroon, not with those yellow eyes and hair.
“Come, chérie. You will not have to return to New Orleans. You are safe now.”
Safe? Alexis wanted to scream. Where was she safe? With some man Travers had convinced she was a runaway slave. What was the use of trying to explain the truth now? Travers had probably anticipated everything she would say. There was no one to believe her. Holding Pierre tightly she followed him into the house.
“Wait here, mademoiselle. I will find André and have him prepare a room for you. I will be back in a few moments.”
“Merci,”Alexis whispered, and then Pierre was gone. She stood alone in the foyer for several minutes and still he did not return. Her legs threatened to buckle beneath her and she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes on the luxury surrounding her. Wherever Travers had brought her it was obviously a place of some wealth. Unable to stand much longer Alexis ventured forward to the closed double doors on her left, seeking a place where she could sit.
She thought she heard voices but it was too late to stop her entry into the room. She had already turned the handle and leaned forward.
Deep in heated discussion it was some time before the three men noted the entry of the caped figure. Alexis, however, had heard and seen enough to decide she had gone insane. It was Travers who saw her first.
Uneasily he got to his feet. “Ah, gentlemen. Here she is. The woman I was telling you about. Come here, girl.”
Alexis recognized the command in his voice, the warning nature of his tone but she could only stare helplessly from Cloud to Lafitte and back to Cloud again. They appeared to have no better a grip on the situation than she did. She felt hands on her waist behind her and realized it must be Jean’s brother who had brought her in.
“I am sorry, Jean. She must have wandered in here. She really is not well. What’s wrong? You look as if you have seen a ghost?”
Pierre’s fluid voice was all Cloud and Lafitte needed to bring them to their senses.
“Alex!” Cloud cried, rushing forward to take her from Pierre. She fell into his arms. He held her close, allowing her to know he was real, then he carried her trembling form to the sofa.
“Alex?” Pierre looked at his brother questioningly. “Captain Cloud knows her?”
