“Pierre, Captain Travers, I have the very great pleasure to introduce Captain Alex Danty.” Lafitte said the words calmly enough, but Pierre sensed the rage burning beneath. He glanced at Travers who was only capable of mouthing the “Danty.” He now realized the kind of trick in which the commander had been trying to involve them. Pierre was not surprised when he saw his brother take down two of the rapiers mounted on the wall above the mantle and toss one of them to Travers. Pierre knew that anything he might say now to Jean to stop him from killing the captain would fall on deaf ears, so he busied himself moving furniture out of the way to widen the arena. He paused in his work once to look at the woman known as Captain Danty and suddenly he knew how she commanded men, even in her absence.
Cloud turned from Alexis the moment he heard the slash of Lafitte’s rapier. “No, Jean,” he said, looking at Travers. “It is my right.”
Lafitte eyed Cloud, then Travers. The British officer was preparing to duel and seemed unconcerned as to who his opponent was. “As you wish,” Lafitte replied, tossing Cloud his rapier. “I will not hold you to your word under these circumstances.”
“No, Cloud!” Alexis cried out. She tried to get up as Cloud stepped away from her and moved panther-like to the center of the room.
Lafitte quickly took Cloud’s place at her side, placing his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to remain still. “You must not stop him. He would not have stopped you, Captain Danty.”
Travers faced Cloud. “Why do you call her Captain? And why Danty?”
“Because it’s her name, Travers. The name she took for herself after you visited her island.” Cloud spoke in a deceptively soft voice. He motioned Pierre to move to the far side of the room. Now there was nothing blocking his advance toward Travers.
“But her name was Quinton.”
“So you do remember! Good! I won’t have to do much explaining then. I can concentrate on other matters.” Cloud took his stance. “I have been waiting for this.”
Travers’s rapier cut through space in a fluid, silky motion. The sound it made punctuated Cloud’s demand. He stepped forward, thrusting as he did so. It was not a stroke designed to kill. Travers was only testing the balance of his weapon as well as the strength and agility of his opponent. Cloud’s subsequent movements warned the captain they were evenly matched. Youth was on the side of the American. Experience on his own.
“You’re a liar.” Cloud taunted Travers. He sidestepped Travers’s next move easily and began to advance, forcing the captain toward the fireplace. “She didn’t hide aboard your ship. She was thrown off her own during the storm. Tell me, Captain, how did she come by those bruises on her face?”
Travers did not answer. Cloud’s anger gave him the opportunity he needed to move away from the mantle. He managed to move out into the open and with more freedom available he achieved a glancing strike on Cloud’s arm.
Lafitte was forced once again to hold Alexis in her position on the sofa. He watched her. Even in her distress she would not call out to her lover, knowing the distraction could mean his death. Still, there was a strength in her that refused to be harnessed, as if by sheer force of will she could cause Travers to go to his knees and ultimately to his death.
Cloud laughed off the scratch lightly. “You will have to do better, Captain, if you hope to leave Barataría alive. Did you know while the Royal Fleet was losing valuable ships she was only after you?” The point of his rapier struck Travers in the shoulder. Cloud pulled it out immediately and let him have a moment to recover. “No, I suppose you didn’t. Otherwise you would not have slept so easily these years since you murdered her parents.”
Travers ignored the small pain in his shoulder and advanced on Cloud. “What is your interest in this? What lies has she told you to make you defend her?”
“Lies? You’re a fool. I was there, Travers! Do you understand? I was there!”
Travers looked at him blankly. The memory of the help the Quintons’ received registered at the same time Cloud pierced his side with the tip of his rapier.
Again Cloud gave Travers a chance to strike back, circling him slowly. “Those marks were for her parents, Travers. They do not begin to equal the marks you left with her. The lashes you delivered to her back.” He thrust, missed, and lost his balance, stumbling to the floor before he could right himself. Travers lunged but Cloud rolled to one side and quickly regained his stance. “That was your chance, and you missed it. I still have one mark to put on you. The fatal one. For her friend.”
Alexis stared, transfixed as the two men continued their struggle. There were no more words between them. Each was in earnest to see the other defeated. Cloud had only toyed with the captain thus far. The wounds he had inflicted were minor, their pain minimal, and they did not appear to slow Travers. She was conscious of their labored breathing and the sharp, biting sting of the clashing rapiers.
She had almost forgotten the presence of Lafitte until his fingers closed on her shoulders painfully as Travers’s weapon made a deadly sweep down Cloud’s thigh. She welcomed the firm grip because it took her mind off the open wound and the spreading crimson line.
Cloud launched a new attack, perceptibly favoring his good leg, but not to the point that it cost him his balance. As Cloud advanced Travers retreated to the entrance of the drawing room and in a moment both men were in the foyer, out of the line of vision of the three spectators. Pierre quickly entered the foyer and almost as quickly Lafitte lifted Alexis and carried her to the doorway.
Travers was trapped against the banister of the wide, winding staircase. He teetered for a second, unsure whether to move up the stairs or down. His indecisiveness gave Cloud the opportunity he had been seeking. With lightning-like motion his blade cut a jagged path through the air and found its mark in Travers’s chest. This time he did not pull it out.
The captain sagged against the banister, his sword falling noisily on the polished floor below. He clutched the thin blade in his two large hands and pulled it out. Groaning softly, eyes filled with hatred, he made one last effort and tried to toss the rapier at his opponent. It fell only a few inches away from his own feet.
“That was for Pauley,” Cloud said as Travers struggled to remain upright and, failing, fell heavily down the stairs.
Lafitte released Alexis. She ran for the protective embrace awaiting her on the stairway. Enfolded in Cloud’s arms, she was oblivious to Jean and Pierre as she was to the figure at the bottom of the stairs. His kiss gave her the nourishment she had been seeking, and she forgot the time she spent in the hold. She forgot everything but her need for him.
“Your leg,” she whispered against his chest.
“Your eye,” he countered, his lips touching her hair.
“It’s nothing. But your arm—”
“It’s nothing. But your jaw—”
She pulled away from him, laughing, and he joined her. She took his hand and led him down the stairs into the drawing room, past the bemused faces of Jean and Pierre. Still laughing, they collapsed on the sofa, thoroughly enjoying the sound of their voices as a reassurance their time had finally come.
