her to be his mistress. The longer such a thing was put off, the better the chance
Alsandair would find a way to rescue her. Not once did she doubt he would. Though
she didn’t want anything to happen Andre, she wanted to be with her true love even
more.
“What if you don’t go to the Council?” she asked.
“Louis will take you away from me and install you in his house until I do,” he
answered. “I doubt you’d either be welcomed or happy with him and Antoinette. She’s
a tawdry bitch.”
“Can’t you just tell him no?” she asked.
“I wish it were that simple, precious,” he said. “There is more involved here than
you know.”
“I know your brother has entirely too much authority over you even if he is older,”
she said. They hadn’t discussed Louis all that much. Each time she’d brought his name
up, Andre had changed the subject. She didn’t even know how they’d found one
another again after Andre had been brought to Wicklaw Cay as a child.
“Go on to the house,” he said. “I’ll take a quick dip to cool off then join you. Put me
out a clean set of clothes to wear before the Council.”
“Andre—” she began, but he held up a hand.
“Complaining about it won’t keep it from happening, bébé. Arguing won’t either.”
She watched him head down the path through the forest which led to a waterfall
that fell just beyond the edge of his estate. Angrier at his brother than she was with
Andre, she flounced around and started for the house. Cursing Louis Corsair beneath
her breath, she came up short when that man stepped directly in front of her, blocking
her way. She jumped back, her eyes wide, her hand to her throat.
“You scared me!” she said, the blood pounding in her ears.
“Hurt my Andi and I’ll do more than scare you, bitch,” Louis spat at her. “He’s had
more than his share of trouble in his thirty-odd years. He don’t need no more and
especially not from some skirt!”
“And whose fault was that?” she said, lifting her chin. “He was just a child, a
defenseless little boy. You were his big brother and you should have protected him.
Instead, you left him at the mercy of a man you knew would neglect him and—”
Louis moved so fast she had no time to step away from him. He came toe to toe
with her, grabbing her arm to jerk him to her. “You don’t know nothing about what
you’re speaking of!” he hissed into her face.
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“I know you left him to a man who sold him for another man’s perverted pleasure,”
she said, and strove hard not to tremble in his hard grip. “You have to know what that
did to him. He has nightmares about his stay with Bertrand.”
Pain flickered through Louis Corsair’s eyes for just a second and he released her
arm as though the contact had burned him. He moved back although he was still too
close to her for her comfort. She imagined she saw guilt settling on his beefy face.
“Nobody could have anticipated what the old man did,” he said in a breaking
voice. “If’n I’d known what he had planned, I would have taken Andi with me when I
left. Better he starve to death than have had that happen to him. All I wanted was to get
away so I could make enough money to care for him properly as a man should care for
his…” He shook his head as though to clear it of the thought that stung him. “You don’t
know nothing!”
Realization came like a lightning bolt through Rylee and her mouth dropped open.
She stared at Louis. “Oh dear god! You’re not his brother. You’re his father,” she
whispered.
Louis Corsair straightened his shoulders. “Breathe one word of that and I’ll pull
your tongue out by the root, wench. I swear to the gods I will,” he warned. That said, he
pivoted on his heel and disappeared among the lush foliage.
“Oh my god,” Rylee said as she put a shaky hand to her mouth. She felt sick to her
stomach at the thought of a fourteen-year-old boy having an incestuous affair with his
own mother. The mere thought of it was revolting.
“We did not have the same mother,” Andre said quietly.
Rylee turned to find him walking toward her, his hair wet and tousled about his
tanned face, water cascading off his chest, the waistband of his pants wet. He was
barefoot, carrying his boots in one hand.
“Walk with me, precious,” he said, and held out his free hand to her.
She took his hand without question and felt the wet coolness of his flesh against
hers. He led her to a little gazebo he had built with his own hands, a fanciful creation in
which she loved to sit and read in the late afternoon while he was with his men in town.
Indicating one of the two large white wicker peacock chairs with thick, floral cushions,
he waited until she was seated then sat down in the other chair. A fresh breeze lazily
turned the wicker fan in the ceiling.
Andre sat forward with his hands clasped between his legs and looked at Rylee.
“I had been here about three years before Captain DuMont’s wife agreed to allow
him to take me on as his cabin boy. At eleven, I was big for my age and could pretty
much take care of myself. The men of the Cay had taught me things no eleven-year-old
should ever know and it was because I was starting to get some attention from the
whores down at the waterfront that Miss Libby, the captain’s wife, thought it was time I
went pirating.” He smiled slightly. “Truth be told, I was more than ready to go because
I was growing tired of finding ways to fend off those whores.”
He turned his head and gazed at the beach beyond.
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“On the first day we were out, the lookout spied a navy transport from Françasia.
Normally the captain wouldn’t have bothered engaging a military ship but he’d heard
there was a cache of weapons being delivered to Espange and that meant a lot of money
if he could get them. Military ships are hard to take because they’ll stand and fight
whereas a merchant ship is rarely ever equipped with guns and even with those that
are, the crew isn’t all that proficient with them.”
“It was more dangerous for you pirates,” she said.
“Very much so,” he agreed. “But we had speed on our side and we outmaneuvered
them. We got in a few good broadsides and for the most part skipped well out of range
of their gunners. The battle lasted several hours but in the end, the Flying Pearl had only
minor damage while the transport was floundering. We knew we had to get on the ship
quickly and get the guns before she sank.”
Rylee drew her knees up into the wide expanse of the comfortable chair. “Where
were you during all the fighting?”
“Below deck,” he said with a bit of disgust. “The captain said if anything happened
to me he’d best not return home else his wife would fillet him. He feared that little
woman, believe me.”
She laughed. “I imagine so.”
“The fighting was fierce once our men boarded the transport. We lost a lot of good
men that day but the military men fared worse. Their captain had died in the first volley
and the first mate had been grievously wounded. The
man who was next in command
was a coward and surrendered as soon as Captain DuMont boarded the transport. I
came up on deck as soon as I was allowed and it was then I saw Louis among the
prisoners about to be executed.”
“Did he see you?”
Andre nodded. “At about the same time I saw him. He recognized me, he said,
because I looked just like him at that age. He yelled out to me and I tried to get over to
the transport but Gaston caught me and wouldn’t let me. I begged Captain DuMont to
spare Louis and—as he later told me—he did so against his better judgment.” He
looked down at the floor of the gazebo. “Louis was the only one to survive among the
military men that day.”
“He had joined the military then.”
“Not intentionally,” he said with a snort. “He’d been looking for work and
managed to get impressed into the Françasian navy. He has the scars on his back to
prove it. He seemed relieved to see me yet even more relieved to be away from the navy
and its cat-o’-nine.”
He went on to tell her how Louis had taken easily to the life of a pirate. His hatred
for the military held him in good stead and even though the transport upon which he’d
been billeted had not carried the expected weapons, he was able to provide invaluable
information to the pirates concerning the ships which did.
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“Louis developed a reputation for being a cold-blooded murderer,” Andre said.
“Like DuMont, he took no prisoners and was excessively brutal when we encountered a
military ship. Even with merchant and passenger ships, he is known for his savagery.”
He looked up at her. “It was a good thing his ship was not the one who intercepted the
Mary Constance. I hate to think what might have happened to you and the boy.”
So did Rylee. She shuddered at the thought. “When did you find out he was your
father and not your brother?” she asked, trying to drag her mind away from what could
have happened.
“About two years after he joined DuMont’s crew,” Andre replied. “I was thirteen
years old, about the same age he’d been when my mother came to live with our father.”
He smiled grimly. “I had reached the age where I was becoming very interested in the
girls down at the waterfront. One night he caught me sneaking off down there and
grabbed me up by the scruff of the neck and gave me a backhand that nearly broke my
jaw. He yelled at me, telling me he wasn’t about to let me ruin my life with one of the
diseased doxies who plied their trade on the docks and that if I needed to polish my
whistle, it would be with a woman of his choosing.”
“I bet that went over big with you,” she commented, blushing.
He shrugged. “At that point and at that age, I just wanted to have sex with a female,
any female. I wasn’t particular who or what she was. I also knew I wanted nothing to
do with the men who kept giving me looks because of what Bertrand had done to me.
So Louis dragged me down to Antoinette’s brothel that night. He’d set her up with her
own place when he’d brought her to the Cay and he was making a pretty good living
just off her and her girls. While I was in with Toni—he didn’t trust anyone else to
initiate me as he put it—he tied on a helluva drunk downstairs. I had to go get Gaston
to help me take him back to the hut where he was living.”
Rylee was watching his face closely and she could see the pain that began shifting
across his countenance.
“It was while I was helping Gaston undress him and put him to bed that he started
talking about Janelle, my mother. From the things he said, I began to realize what had
happened, what the two of them had done. I ran out of the hut and hid in the jungle,
horrified and filled with revulsion. I was out there four days before he finally found me.
As soon as I saw him, I attacked him.” He laughed. “A thirteen-year-old boy can’t do
much damage to a twenty-seven-year-old man twice his size and with ten times the
experience with fighting. Before I knew what was happening he had me down on the
ground, pinning my shoulders with his knees. He was one heavy bastard, let me tell
you.”
She listened as he explained that Louis’ mother had left her husband for another
man when Louis was twelve. After that, his father had hidden his hurt and
embarrassment at losing his wife in every rum bottle he could get his hands on. He had
also started taking his frustrations out on Louis, blaming Louis for his mother leaving.
A year later, he’d come home one night with a woman in tow—the woman who would
become Andre’s mother.
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“According to Louis she was stunningly beautiful,” Andre said. “She was a sixteen-
year-old from l’Hongrie and our father had won her in a card game. Louis said he fell in
love with her the moment he saw her and—as he swears—she fell in love with him.
Together, they made me.”
“Did your father know you weren’t his child?” she asked, thinking of the card game
in which Alsandair had won her from Kyle.
“Oh he knew,” Andre stated. “He had drunk so much by then he couldn’t maintain
an erection long enough to take any woman. It seems the only way he could get
satisfaction was orally and that was how he used my mother.”
Rylee blushed and looked down at her hands. “I’m surprised he didn’t cause her to
miscarry you.”
“I don’t think that ever occurred to him,” Andre said. “He professed to be a gods-
fearing man.”
“Thank the gods for that,” she said. “What happened when he learned she was
pregnant?”
“Louis says the old man did his damnedest to kill him when he found out. He
so badly Louis was in bed for several days, being cared for by a neighbor.” He ran a
hand through his hair. “The neighbor threatened to go to the sheriff if it happened
again. From that day on, the old man was careful not to hurt Louis too badly when he
beat him and to beat him where the bruises didn’t show.”
“What an awful time that must have been for Louis,” Rylee said.
“The worst years of his life, he says,” Andre told her. “But nothing compared to the
night he lost the only woman he swears he will ever love.”
“Was it a complicated birth then?”
Andre sighed deeply. “My mother was too young, too small. She started
hemorrhaging and the healer couldn’t stop the loss of blood. Before she died, she made
Louis promise he’d look after me, not let anything happen to me. I think she feared
what the old man would do if given the chance.”
“Yet Louis eventually left you alone with your father,” she said.
“He said he thought I had reached the age to look after myself long enough for him
to find a decent job and come back for me. I believe him when he says he had every
intention of doing that had not the press-gang taken him.”
“How did you feel about him leaving?” she inquired.
“I didn’t think much about it to tell the truth. His was one less hand to feel across
my face,�
� he answered.
“He hit you?”
“Often enough. Though he had promised her to look after me, he did so
begrudgingly, and I grew up feeling his anger and hatred, thinking it was because I was
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the one responsible for our mother’s death.” He sighed again. “It was not an easy
childhood.”
“I imagine not,” she agreed. “I can’t begin to understand how both he and his father
could blame you for something you had no hand in causing.”
“They had to blame someone,” he said as he bent over to pull on his boots. “Louis
had truly loved my mother and having lost her, having had her taken away from him,
he was heartbroken.”
“Now you know how I feel about Alsandair,” she said softly.
Andre slowly raised his head and turned to stare at her. His eyes were cold, his
handsome face as hard as flint. “Don’t ever say his name to me again,” he warned her.
“Haven’t you ever loved anyone, Andre?” she asked.
“Not until now,” he said.
Rylee drew in a quick breath. “Andre—”
“I have to go to the Council,” he said and shot up from the chair so quickly she had
no time to stop him. The last she saw of him, he was striding down the path to the
waterfront.
* * * * *
Half an hour later, Rylee was starting to go upstairs when she heard heavy footfalls
on the veranda. She turned to find Gaston coming in the door, his hat in his hand.
“Milady,” he said then cleared his throat to continue. “You need to come with me.”
“Has something happened?” she asked.
“The Council is demanding your appearance,” Gaston said, unable to meet her
eyes.
Rylee’s shoulders slumped. “For the Joining?” she inquired in a barely audible
voice.
Gaston nodded. “Aye, milady.”
“It won’t be legal,” she said.
“It will on the Cay, milady,” Gaston reminded her. “And that’s all that matters to
him and Louis.”
Knowing she had no choice in the matter, Rylee walked over to Gaston. He still
would not look at her and she could feel the old man’s discomfort. “Then let’s get it
over with,” she said, and headed out the screen door.
When she returned to L’endroit Sûr, she returned as Andre Corsair’s bride. He
brought her over his threshold as was customary and carried her up the stairs to their