Only With Your Love (Vallerands #2)(28)

“I take it the answer is no?”

She was enraged to the point of speechlessness.

His smile remained a few seconds longer, and then his expression became serious. “Look at me.”

Celia felt her heart stop as she heard those last three words, the same words he had spoken several hours ago in the heat of passion.

“I said look at me, Celia.”

Unwillingly she raised her eyes to his.

“Your grief over your husband may have been the reason you gave in to me the first time. But not the second.”

*   *   *

When Celia asked Griffin how much farther they would have to travel, she was startled to learn they were much closer to the Crescent City than she had thought.

“About three hours,” he said, reining the horse back to a slow gallop when it tried to break to a canter. They were riding along a trail in the forest, nearly invisible until one stumbled directly onto it. “After crossing the river, it’s a short ride to the plantation on the Bayou St. John.”

“How do you know where the Vallerands live?”

“I’m…acquainted with them.” They came to a stretch where many low-hanging tree branches forced Griffin to slow the horse to a walk and duck his head.

“That cannot be true,” Celia said haughtily. “The Vallerands do not associate with thieves and pirates.”

Griffin laughed. “The Vallerands were thieves and pirates until two generations ago. So were many other fine families of New Orleans.”

“Are you not afraid of Monsieur Vallerand?”

“I’m not afraid of anyone.”

Irked by his arrogant self-confidence, Celia tried to nettle him. “Monsieur Vallerand is very powerful and dangerous. Philippe told me that his father has the best sword arm in all of Louisiana. When he hears what happened to Philippe—”

“He already knows what happened to his son,” Griffin said quietly. “Your ship was due in port two days ago. It was one in a string of attacks in the Gulf. They’ll have no choice but to assume the worst.”

A string of attacks? How many other ships had been overtaken? Celia gave a little shudder as she remembered all the slain men on board the Vallerand merchantman, the mutilated bodies, the blood-slick deck. She was not the only woman who had been bereaved. Many families would be mourning the losses of sons, husbands, fathers, and brothers. “I heard Legare give an order,” she managed to say, her throat constricting, “to lock the men who were still alive in the hold…and…set fire to the ship. How could anyone…It is inhuman…”

“I agree,” he said tersely.

“Do you? Or are you and Legare cut from the same cloth? After you capture a ship, perhaps you find it convenient to do just as he—”

“Nay, there is nothing to gain by the slaughter of innocent men. I take ships for profit, not out of bloodlust.”

“But you have killed before. I have seen it with my own eyes. You killed at least three men while taking me away from the island.”

“If I hadn’t, you’d be dead. After being tortured for hours by André Legare.”

“You and the others on that island…you are so different from the men I’ve known. Philippe was like my father. He had such kindness, such respect for life, and he would never hurt anyone. He would rather bear pain himself than see someone else suffer—”

“Much good his kindness did him,” Griffin said coldly.

“He died without regrets.”

“So will I, when the time comes.”

Celia realized with awed uneasiness that it was probably true. Griffin was like an animal in the wilderness, never thinking of the past or future, only of how to satisfy his needs for the present. Regret, guilt, shame, repentance, all of those human qualities were something he could not afford or perhaps even understand.

“When did you begin your pirating?” she asked.

“I began as a privateer. All strictly legal. I captured ships from warring countries who gave me commissions to do so and rewarded me well when I delivered enemy goods to port. But on one or two occasions I was tempted to help myself to the wrong ship, and I was branded an outlaw.”

“Which is what you are.”

“True.”

“If you are ever caught—”

“I’ll hang.”

“But you cannot continue being a pirate, because Captain Legare will be looking for you, and he wishes to harm you, non?”

“I’ll probably stay out of sight for a while.” Grim satisfaction colored his voice. “I wish I could have seen his face when he found out his brother was dead. Oh, I enjoyed sending André to hell.” He felt Celia tremble, and he frowned. “There’s no reason to be afraid of him. I’ll keep you safe from Legare.”

“I am afraid of you,” she said in a tense voice, and after that there was nothing but silence between them.

They reached a secluded bank of the Mississippi River where two men in rough garb ferried them across on a flatboat. The men were obviously part of an established smuggling network, for they treated Griffin with great respect and seemed to feel a sense of companionship with him. At Griffin’s request, one of them gave Celia his hat. She stuffed her long hair under its wide brim and pulled it low over her face. Because of the looseness of her outlandish garments and her less than amply endowed form, she gave the appearance of being a skinny boy.