They offered her the finest crew available. She could choose among the ranks.
“I have the men I want.”
They said they would pardon her.
“I ask no pardon. I have committed no crime against you.”
They told her the price of what they offered—she would have to give them information on British movements.
“I am aware of the movements of only one man.”
They told her that Lafitte could be an additional asset to their fight.
“Yes. He could be.”
They explained why the pirate would not let an American officer approach him.
“I would not allow a British officer to approach me.”
And they told her she would take to Lafitte the terms of his pardon. His help for his life. The agreement to be completed in Washington.
“I will not.”
Throughout the discussion Cloud’s eyes never left Alexis while she focused on everyone but him. She sat at some distance from the table, one slender arm stretched out from her shoulder in a straight dark line. Only her fingertips touched the edge of the table, as if any more contact would contaminate her. The arm was unyielding, never bending. Her other arm was bent at the elbow, her hand in her lap. It was this arm he expected to see unfold suddenly and slash out at their faces.
He studied her face as she refused their offers. Her eyes were devoid of any expression save disgust, including disgust at herself for bothering to answer their questions. Her cheeks were smooth and soft; her chin lifted at an arrogant angle.
Her sun-kissed skin, glowing in the room’s lamplight, seemed especially bright against the dark background of her clothing. In contrast to the golden flesh of her throat was the silver necklace. It captured the light, held it, then scattered it in quick, sharp flashes whenever she lifted her head defiantly.
He could only think in terms of love and hate. He hated them for forcing this on her. He loved her for throwing it back in their faces.
“I will not take to Lafitte any terms which you propose,” she said.
Exasperated, Bennet shook his head, running his fingers through his wheat-colored hair. “Why not?”
Alexis stood, placing both hands on the table for support. She explained clearly and accurately why Lafitte would not help them at this time. She spoke precisely as she had earlier to Cloud. “Wait,” she finished. “He will come to you. He will offer his assistance. Don’t be too stubborn to accept it.”
Richard Granger leaned forward angrily in his chair, a brandy in hand. “Are you saying this because he helped you return home and even now is helping your shipping firm establish itself while other businesses flounder? Are you saying this because he is your friend?”
“No. I say it because it’s true.”
“But he is your friend.”
“That has nothing to do with what I’m telling you.”
Howe took another square-cut cigar and lit it. “Do you realize what will happen if you refuse to help us?”
“I have not refused you—yet,” she corrected him. “But under no circumstances will I consider Lafitte a part of any assistance I could give you.” She walked around her chair and put her hands on its high leather back.
“It is everything or nothing,” Howe objected.
“Dammit, Senator!” Cloud said, clenching his teeth. He saw Alexis jerk at the sound of his voice. “Let her speak. Let her tell you what she is willing to do!”
“I wondered when you would come to her defense, Captain.”
“I am not defending her. She doesn’t need my defense. What she deserves is an opportunity to state her terms.” His eyes glinted angrily, daring anyone to raise further objection.
Alexis latched on to the silence provided as if it were as tangible as the chair beneath her fingers. “Senator Howe, I am willing to offer my services in any manner you wish, with the exception of Lafitte. I could do nothing for you there. I will help you as soon as I have found Captain Travers. This is what I want. It is the only thing I am willing to accept. If your refusal means proceeding with your absurd charges, then do so. But understand that it is you who have refused me. You may put me in jail, and you will fight your war without any assistance from me.”
