The Sea Hawk by Brenda Adcock Page A

very few inches and feel their softness once again. Quickly looking away, Simone broke the moment by turning the horse back onto its path, shifting her body farther back. She thought she heard Julia release a sigh of relief as well.
    Julia joined the other members of their party for dinner that evening. She felt much more secure having dinner with Simone in a formal dining room than in the captain's cabin. Simone's cousin, Jean-Pierre, the caretaker of her property and horses, joined them. Julia enjoyed the lively talk and laughter, forgetting she and Kitty remained prisoners even though they were never treated as such.
    Midway through a multiple course meal, a housekeeper escorted Henri Archambault to the door of the dining room. Simone excused herself from the table and engaged in a quiet conversation with her first mate. Returning to the table, she said, "My apologies, but I must leave. Enjoy the remainder of your meal. I shall return shortly."
    Julia watched Simone drain her wine glass and stride away, accompanied by Anton and Archambault.

    SIMONE LED ARCHAMBAULT and Anton across the hilly low-lying area from Le Repos toward the small village of Sainte Anne on the western shore of Martinique. Unlike the more shallow cove near her home, Sainte Anne lay on a deep water port an easy four mile ride from Le Repos . It was not uncommon for ships to seek rest in the village.
    "Did DuChamp say why it is so urgent to see me?" Simone asked Archambault.
    "He did nothing more than ask if you were on the island, Faucon ."
    Simone frowned. She had heard the name August DuChamp once or twice in her travels, but knew little about the man other than he was the son of former slaves who had found his freedom at sea.
    The last remnants of the Caribbean sun were disappearing behind palm trees along the western coast when Simone brought her horse to a stop in front of the Boar's Head Tavern. She looked around the village as she stepped down from her saddle and tied the reins to a post in front of the tavern. She stepped onto the wooden decking in front of the small building and waited for her companions before entering. Lanterns hanging from overhead beams threw a golden yellow light over the tables and benches. Several men stood nonchalantly at the bar, undisturbed by the entrance of Simone's small party.
    In the far corner she spotted a black man gnawing on a large hunk of meat. He grabbed a tall tankard and gulped its contents to wash his food down, wiping his mouth afterward with the back of his hand. The closer Simone drew to the man the more weathered lines she saw etching his rough face. She strode across the tavern directly to his table, followed by Archambault and Anton.
    "You have a message for me, Monsieur ?" she asked as she straddled the bench seat on the other side of the table.
    "Your reputation for directness precedes you, Faucon . Laffite wants a parlay," DuChamp said bluntly.
    "I do not take orders from Jean Laffite," Simone smirked, motioning to one of the serving women to bring drinks for her and her party.
    Leaning across the table and lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, DuChamp said, "Barataria is destroyed."
    "And why would this unfortunate event be of concern to me?" Simone asked, her tone nonchalant.
    "The British are planning an invasion at New Orleans. Laffite believes troops will be brought to the city from Jamaica. He wants you. Or rather, he humbly requests your assistance in defending the city."
    "It was the British who destroyed his headquarters at Barataria?" Simone asked as she took a tankard from a tavern worker.
    "No, the Americans, due to an ill-advised suggestion."
    "Then, you will have to pardon me, Monsieur , if I do not understand why Laffite would have any interest in assisting the Americans. It would seem obvious they have no wish for his assistance against the British."
    "You would have to ask him concerning his motives, but I am certain it would involve some type of profit," DuChamp