Bayou Bride Read online

  "I'll never marry again," Slater said solemnly. Then, wanting to regain the lighter mood, he added, "You're getting awfully surly about this."

  "I never thought it would be this hard to find a woman who'd be amenable to the kind of marriage I have in mind."

  "Which is?"

  "Hell, Slater, I'm not in love with anyone, and I don't see the day coming any time soon when I will be. If I have to get married now, I will, but it will be strictly a marriage of convenience, a marriage in name only. Then, after my father..." He paused not wanting to say it out loud. "Anyway, when the time comes later, I thought I might be able to work out an annulment of some kind so we could both be free again..."

  "So what's happened?"

  "Well, let's see," Nick began as he refilled his glass and took a deep drink. "First, I considered Lorna McGrath."

  "You mean the good-looking redhead you were seeing a month ago?"

  "Yes. She's beautiful enough, but all she could talk about was money. How rich her father is and how she has to find someone to marry who'll keep her as well as he did."

  "That shouldn't be a problem for you. Your family's got more money than McGrath."

  "I know, but if she's after my money, would she be willing to give me the annulment I want when the time comes?"

  "I see your point."

  Nick nodded. "Then there was Kathleen Ryan..."

  "What was wrong with her? She's nice looking," Slater remarked, thinking of the petite, raven-haired young woman.

  "She loves me! That's what's wrong with her!" he argued. "She has since we were young. I should have known better than to show her any attention. All she did was tell me how much she cares about me and how she wishes we could have a future together."

  "You don't care for her?"

  "I like her all right, but I don't love her. Just from the few minutes we spent on the balcony together at the Rochester's party a few weeks ago, I can tell you she wouldn't be willing to settle for a marriage in name only."

  "I see," Slater agreed, taking great care to keep his expression serious when all he wanted to do was laugh. He'd never known Nick to complain about a woman finding him desirable before, and it struck him as hysterically funny that his friend was suddenly trying to avoid a woman who obviously wanted him.

  "And then there's Virginia Marksdale. I really thought she might work, but then I remembered her brothers..."

  "What about them?"

  "Well, Terrence is an expert shot and Mark is quite a swordsman, and they're both very protective of their only sister. I've known them for a long time, and I also know they're not the most upstanding of citizens."

  "So? What's that got to do with your marrying Virginia?"

  "I may be exaggerating things, but when I heard they'd been losing money on the plantation and were short on cash, I started thinking. What if after the wedding, at her brother's encouragement, she changed her mind about an annulment? With brothers like that, she might end up a rich widow instead of a well-to-do woman with an annuled marriage in her past."

  Slater grinned, and without much sympathy said, "You certainly are having a rough time."

  "Milicent Rogers, here tonight, was the worst of all, though. One waltz and the woman had us married with babies on the way..."

  This time Slater did laugh out loud. "Babies?! You're kidding?"

  "I wish I was!" In agitation, Nick raked a hand nervously through his hair, "Hell, Slater, I don't want to get married! It's the furthest thing from my mind!"

  Then why don't you just try talking to your father about it? Tell him the truth. Tell him how you feel."

  "What I want doesn't matter this time. He's serious about this.. .real serious. I've never seen him act like this before. We've always been able to discuss things, but this time he won't even listen to me."

  "Then you've got to do something."

  "But what? There's not a woman in that room who would marry me knowing that I don't love her and knowing that I want out of the marriage just as soon as..." The terrible thought of his father's death stopped him, and as he looked up, his father walked into the room.

  The sight of the older man, his hair silvered, his color pale, his clothing loose on his frame, left Nick's heart aching. A year ago his father had been vibrant and active. Now, he just seemed old.

  "Damn it, Slater," he swore in misery. "There has to be a way. There just has to!"

  The Jordan who stood at the rail of the ship watching as it entered the bay in Mobile, Alabama bore little resemblance to the lovely young woman who'd gone to see Luther all those weeks before. Her face was pale and gaunt, testimony to the terrible food they'd eaten on the voyage and the seasickness she'd had to battle. There had been few chances to bathe during the trip, and the lack of cleanliness left her feeling miserable. As much as she disliked having her hair in a bun, it was so dirty that she'd been forced to tie it back that way so it wouldn't hang down limply around her shoulders. Now, clad in a practical daygown that was wrinkled and soiled, she gazed out across the water wondering what the future held for her. Weary as she was, there was no defeat in her, and it showed in the proud lift of her chin and the gleam of intelligence in her eyes as she got her first look at the new country that was about to become her home.

  "I can't believe we're finally here," she murmured to Philip, who was standing staunchly at her side.

  "Nor can I," he agreed, pleased that their journey was over.

  To say the voyage had been difficult would have been an understatement. The food had been awful, barely fit for human consumption. The accommodations had been horrendous, for all the indentured servants had been jammed together in one area that provided little privacy. There were more men than women, and they were generally a crude, uncivilized lot. Philip had had to pretend to be Jordan's lover in order to protect her from the advances of others. It had been a laughable charade, and one they were sure they'd remember for some time to come.

  "I'm a little bit scared about what's going to happen next," Jordan admitted as the ship prepared to dock. "What if we don't get to stay together?"

  "Don't worry." Philip tried to sound encouraging, though he was feeling the same trepidation himself. "We've made it this far, havent we?"

  "Yes, but this could have been the easy part," she told him wryly.

  "Easy? Jordan, there's been nothing easy about this, and we've done fine," he said, feeling years rather than just weeks older.

  "I know, but at least we were together through it all. I hate the thought that we might be separated. It could be at least three years before we see each other again."

  Philip wanted to tell her not to worry. He wanted to promise that he would always be there to take care of her, but he knew there was a good chance he wouldn't be. It was very likely that they would be forced to part. "That's true, but think about the alternative."

  It took only that simple reminder for Jordan to recall how relieved she'd been when the ship had left London without their being discovered by the authorities. The thought of prison or a possible death sentence confirmed her belief that they'd done the right thing. "You're right. This is the only way."

  They fell silent then as they contemplated what would happen next. Since it was almost dusk, they weren't sure if they would spend the night on the ship or be taken into town. It was a terrible thing for them not to know what the future held, and they waited apprehensively to see what was going to happen.

  Jordan could sense the tension emanating from Philip, and she cast him a sideways glance, noticing how much older he looked and how much more serious. He'd been boyishly handsome when they'd fled their home, but he was no longer a carefree youth. Now he was a man. Having been unable to shave for the duration, Philip was sporting a beard that had grown in several shades darker than his blond hair. It had changed his appearance drastically, and they'd agreed that he should keep it just in case someone might notice the resemblance between them without it.

  Though they'd never talked about it, Jordan
knew Philip felt ultimately responsible for their situation. She put a comforting hand on his now as they stood ready to face whatever fate dealt them.

  "Hey! Montgomery! You, Douglas! Get over here!" Harrison, the fat, repulsive-looking agent who'd been in charge of the indentured servants on the voyage, directed them to the back of the ship where the rest had gathered.

  Philip and Jordan were still always surprised when someone called them by their assumed names. Somehow, they felt the aliases Philip Montgomery and Jordan Douglas didn't suit them very well, but they were the best they'd been able to come up with on such short notice. Sticking close together for fear that they'd be separated, they made their way to join the others.

  "Hey, sweet meat!" one of the aggressive indentured men who'd tried to bed Jordan early on during the voyage called out as she walked regally past. "Who's gonna protect you once they sell you away from your boyfriend?"

  "Yeah, girl!" another of the men taunted, annoyed by her aloofness and wanting to bring her down. "Maybe you and me will be going to the same place."

  Philip was ready to fight, as he'd done on more than one occasion during the trip, but the agent interceded this time, allowing him to usher Jordan a safe distance away. They waited there anxiously to see what would happen next, and as they waited, each prayed silently for a miracle.

  "Well, so much for that hot lead," Nick said in aggravation as he faced Slater across a table in a crowded waterfront tavern in Mobile. Having ended up at another dead end tracking the Sea Demon 's owner, they'd been sitting there for several hours, drowning their frustrations in some very strong, very bad whiskey. "I'm beginning to understand why the government has such a hard time arresting these people. I mean, if we can't locate the owner acting as interested investors, how can the government find them during an investigation?"

  Slater nodded. "Whoever the owners are, they're smart. They've protected themselves from every an gle. I'm beginning to think we're going to have to get real lucky to find them."

  "I'm going to keep trying until I get lucky," Nick vowed angrily, his fervor for revenge not having dimmed at all since that terrible night.

  "We both will," Slater agreed supportively, "but there's nothing more we can do here. We've already let it be known that we want to get involved in the business. It's just a matter of waiting to see if the man's interested in our offer."

  "There's no other way? No quicker way?" Patience was not one of Nick's virtues, and as frustrating as his life was right now, he was wishing that just one thing would go easily.

  "No. We just have to sit it out."

  "Damn..."

  "I know, I feel the same way you do, but we've got to be careful. You know how dangerous these people are. Curtis let us go once. We might not be so fortunate a second time."

  "You're right." Nick was forced to cool his impatience. "I'll wait forever if I have to, just as long as I finally get to see those bastards get what's coming to them."

  "We will." Slater said confidently.

  "I just wish I could be as certain about the outcome of the rest of my life," Nick grumbled as he took another drink of the potent whiskey.

  "Still worrying about your `wife,' are you?" his friend laughed easily as he downed his own drink.

  "I'm worried about my lack of a wife. I'd like to see you try to pick out the perfect wife in six months or less."

  "No, thanks. I picked out the perfect one once. I don't want another wife. Why settle for less than the best?" Slater told him, wondering after all these months if the endless ache from missing her would ever fade.

  "But I don't want one or need one!" Nick declared hotly.

  "Well, according to your father, you do."

  Nick shook his head as he thought about his situation. "I don't know what else I can do. I've looked at all the possibilities at home, and there was something wrong with each and every one of them."

  "Possibilities?" Slater guffawed. "Face it, Nick. There was really nothing terribly wrong with any of them. There's only something wrong with you."

  "You're right! I don't want to get married!"

  "And that's precisely why you're going about this all wrong. You don't want a marriage. You want a business arrangement, something set up and agreed to ahead of time, right?"

  "What's wrong with that?" he asked on the defensive.

  "Absolutely nothing, but you're not going to find it where you've been looking. The women you've been seeing want a real marriage. Period. How would they ever be able to hold their heads up in society if they had to admit failure by annulling their marriage to you? What chance would they ever have for another?"

  "What do you suggest I do, then? That I go to the market and buy a bride?" As the liquor they had been consuming all evening heated his mood, his sarcasm sharpened.

  "Why not? Why didn't we think of this before?" Slater was suddenly cheerful as an idea occurred to him.

  "Just where do they make a practice of selling women, Slater?" Nick drawled. "I'll go order one right now. I know exactly what I want, if I get to choose, that is. I want a beautiful blond with a great figure and a sweet personality. I want her to be a woman who'll stay in the background, not make any trouble for me, and leave just as soon as this ordeal is over." He smiled at the prospect of a made-to-order bride, wishing it were a real possibility instead of a farfetched dream.

  "I think you're out of luck. There's not a woman alive who matches that description," Slater joked. "Besides, if she really was that perfect, would you let her go once the time was up?"

  Nick only snorted in derision.

  "You know, we could pay a visit to Madame La Fleur's House of Exotic Delights. Who knows? For a nominal fee, maybe one of her girls might be interested in making a deal with you."

  "I may be desperate, but I'm not that desperate. Besides, with my luck, if I tried to pass a lady of the night off as my blushing bride, she'd turn out to know half of my father's acquaintances-intimately," Nick said with a rueful grin, imagining the scene.

  "Let's go pay Madame LaFleur a visit anyway," Slater suggested, wanting to be distracted from the memories that haunted him. "The last time I was there, her girls were not only very pretty, they were also very talented. You might not be able to buy a wife there, but you will certainly be able to buy a good time."

  Nick definitely felt in need of some relaxation, and he finished off his drink and got to his feet. "Let's go. My father thinks I'm here on a business trip with you, so there's no reason to start back home early."

  With Nick in the lead, they made their way slowly through the crowd of rowdy sailors, painted dockside whores, and drunks. Halfway to the door they happened to overhear one sailor talking excitedly to a group of men at the bar.

  "They just got here, and they're going to sell 'em tonight."

  "How many are there?"

  "Fifty or more, I don't know," he dismissed the number drunkenly, "but there's only one I'm interested in."

  "Oh, yeah?" came the avid reply.

  At first, Nick and Slater paid little attention to the banter. They assumed they were talking about a slave auction.

  "I saw her from the dock," the sailor went on, "and though she had a cloak all wrapped around her, she was one nice-lookin' woman. Set my blood to racin', I tell you."

  "You say they brought them over from England?" another man asked.

  Nick stopped in mid-stride.

  The sailor shook his head excitedly. "Yeah, and I'll bet she's one pretty little English rose under all them clothes she's wearin'. I wonder if I got enough left of my pay to buy her?" He started to rummage through his pockets.

  "Dream on, you fool. If she's as good a looker as you say, you won't be able to touch her on three months pay, let alone what you got now. Besides, she's an indenture. She's here to work for a living."

  "I'll make her work for her livin'!" he snickered as he continued to count out his meager fare of coins.

  "Looks like you're going to have to be saving for a long time!" the ot
her man joshed. "Maybe by the time you get enough money, she'll be old and ugly and her price will have dropped so you can afford her."

  "Too bad," the sailor mourned, "I would'a enjoyed ownin' her.. .Maybe if I go down by Wilkens's warehouse where they're gonna hold the auction I can get another look at her."

  "Ali, forget it. Stay here and enjoy what you can afford. Don't go dreamin' about what you can't have."

  "You're right..."

  As the conversation drifted off, Nick quickly left the tavern, smiling widely. When he and Slater were outside, he turned to his friend.

  "Did you hear that?"

  "Where's Wilkens's warehouse?"

  "I don't know, but I'm going to find out." Nick's hopes were soaring. "This could be the answer to my prayers..."

  Jordan was trying her best to maintain her dignity, but as she watched all that was happening around her, she found it almost impossible. Never in her wildest dreams or most vivid nightmares had she thought they would be put on exhibition like farm animals, but they were. Herded together onto the dock then separated according to sexes, they were forced to endure the inspections of whoever came to look. Keeping her cloak wrapped close around her, she made her way to the back of the group of women and tried to make herself inconspicuous, but as lovely as she was she had little success. Several men accompanied by their wives came looking for maids, but the women quickly turned their husbands away from her, branding her "too likely to get into trouble" to work in their households. Though Jordan was sure the women meant to be unkind, their remarks really pleased her. She was thrilled when she wasn't sold right away.

  Jordan quietly tried to keep an eye on Philip, watching in misery as he was put through the humiliation of being examined by several men to see if he was strong enough and healthy enough for the jobs they had in mind. To her horror, they even checked his teeth. Though he was in good physical shape, he too was passed over each time, and she was almdst joyful about it. There was still hope. But as time passed and more and more of their companions were sold and taken away, her nervousness grew. Their time was coming soon, and she knew there wasn't a thing they could do about it. As much as she could, she kept to the deep shadows, trying not to draw attention to herself.