BARATARIA

[Blackjack Roberts]

Andre softly whistled La Belle Creole as the men made their way up the nearly overgrown path through the jungle that led to Jaquie's veranda. Every so often he patted the pocket of his burgundy sea coat smiling to himself at his luck. He had intended to search the finest jewelers in New Orleans to purchase the necklace for her, only to have the finest he had seen fall into his very lap.

"Ye seem overly pleased with yerself, Captain." John Hubbard leaned over to whisper. "If'n ye don't mind me say'n so. Find somethin' special did ye?"

"Aye, Mon Ami, that I did!" The Creole pirate laughed loudly, bringing the group to a halt. "Here, see for yourselves."

Andre pulled the inlaid rectangle from his pocket and gently opened it for them to see. Deep red light flashed from the nearly two inch oval ruby as an errant shaft of sunlight caught it through the wavering palm leaves of the overhead canopy. The sheer luminescence of the pearls surpassed anything the pirates had laid eyes on. Slight hints of rainbow patterns shifted on their surface giving their soft glow almost a mother of pearl sheen. Etienne and Francois stared, their mouths agape. Garnier and John simultaneously whistled lowly. Andre allowed himself the luxury of a small stab of pride.

"Well, Mon Amis, do you think she will like it?" He grinned widely.

"Like it?!" Francois echoed incredulously. "I think she will not let you out of le coucher for a week!"

"That, as they say, is the plan, Mon Frere." Andre winked as he closed the box, sliding it easily back into his pocket.

Garnier DePaul laughed uproariously clapping Andre warmly on the back. "I think you have been spending to much time with Francois, Capitian. Your motives keep leading you back to the boudoir."

"You make it sound like a bad thing." Francois puffed up with feigned indignity. "After all he..."

"We know...he is French!" The other three finished, laughing as they started up the trail again, leaving Francois to stare after them.

Francois shrugged, holding his hands palm up as he looked to the jungle canopy above him. "Mon Dieu. Did I lie?" Dropping his arms he raced up the path to catch up with his comrades.




Benjamin le Renard removed the thick manila envelope from inside his jacket and tossed it onto Lafitte's polished desk top. "Only this, My Friend." He smiled his best politician's smile. "As you may know Aaron Burr has long been pushing for Louisiana, in particular New Orleans to become an independent nation unto herself. Much along the way the Colonies have. I happen to agree with him to an extent."

"Continue." Jean ignored the envelope for the moment, waiting to hear what Renard had on his mind before committing himself.

"We have long been supporting a fellow pirate of yours, who has been amassing a small army to take New Orleans by force if necessary. Running out the Spanish once and for all and declaring Louisiana a free nation. As of now I believe he has finally amassed the capitol to go ahead with the revolution." Benjamin sipped the Cognac thoughtfully, carefully baiting the trap.

"I do not feel an outsider like Burr would be the best choice to lead our country once the deed is accomplished, neither do I completely trust that our man will agree with necessary changes once the deed has been accomplished." He smiled again. "But we still need you to help him. Barataria is strategically located to prevent any hostile reinforcements from spoiling our little party."

"One of those changes being you as the leader of Louisiana, I take it." The pirate lord grinned.

"Only for the sake of the new nation." Renard sniffed.

"Of course." Jean chuckled. "and who is this pirate you wish me to help free New Orleans?"

"Andre Beaudouin."

"Non!!!" Jean leapt to his feet, his face beet red with rage. "Non!!! There is no way on Earth, or in Hell I will lend aid to that Motherless Dandy!! Not for all the money you could place before me!! Good Day to you, Sir!!"

"Would you do it for Governorship of New Orleans?" Renard smiled calmly, noting the sudden change in his newest puppet's demeanor.

"Governorship?" Jean Lafitte looked at Renard with renewed interest at the implied offer.

"Oui. As I said earlier, I do not think Andre will like some of the changes that I will make for Louisiana to prosper. Once he has done his job both he and Burr will have to be......replaced. Burr I can handle politically, as he is an outsider. Andre is another matter all together. He will have to be dealt with more discreetly. I trust you will be able to see to that?"

Lafitte picked up the envelope from his desk with a wicked smile. "With pleasure, Mon Ami. With the greatest of pleasure."



Andre smiled warmly as the men made their way up onto the covered porch. Caesaire rising to hug him tightly. "I have missed you, Mon Amore." She whispered into his ear.

He held her out to arms length. "I trust Mama Perrine and Jaquie have been able to keep you entertained?" He looked lovingly into the Creole beauty's blue eyes.

"Quite so." Caesaire tilted her head to one side. Andre was up to something.

"Even so, Mon Cheri, I do believe I have a debt to pay to you for my boorishness on board Le Faucon." He scowled seriously. "I should have realized from our childhood you would never be able to accept being a kept woman. It was one of the things that attracted me to you so strongly."

He reached into his pocket as he continued. "I have the price you rightfully demanded. Something I believe will fit your new station in life as a Queen among pirates. More importantly as my Pirate Queen."

"This is yours, Mon Amore." He opened the small box for her to see the prize he had found for her.

[Welsh Wench]

Caesaire could scarcely catch her breath.
"Oh, Andre! Andre!"
She flung her arms around his neck.
"Does that mean you like it, ma petite?"
"Like it? Mon Dieu, cher, c'est magnifique!"
She turned around and lifted her hair off her neck. Andre fastened it on her neck. She let her hair cascade down and turned to him.
"Well? How does it look?"
Andre grinned. "Mon cher, I think the clams made those pearls just for you! And the ruby...how it suits you!"
She held her hand out. "And it even came with a box! May I see it?"
He grinned and handed it over. She took it and traced the peacock with her finger. "What exquisite workmanship! Look at the detail!"
She opened it and saw Countess Eladio's name engraved inside the lid.
She looked up at Andre and whispered, "I think we are in trouble!"
Andre looked at her questioningly. "How so, Caesaire?"

Caesaire closed the box and replied, "A gift of this magnitude? Count Eladio either loves his wife very, very much or he cheated on her and is making amends. Or else...."
"Else?"
"Perhaps Count Eladio misappropriated funds somewhere along the line and transferred it to this little trinket."
Andre rubbed his chin and said, "You may have something there, ma petite."
Caesaire said, "Jean used to do the same thing. But he took his money and invested it in land. Look at Barataria."
Andre's jaw set. "And he was a slaver. Dealing in human flesh is no basis to build your wealth."
She sighed. "I was talking to Perrine. How terrible to be at someone's mercy."

Just then, Jacqui entered the room. "How did it go, Andre?"
He grinned and said, "We have the biggest prize we have ever had before, Captain Villard! Everything has been tagged and tomorrow we shall meet with our merchants for distribution. We convert it all to cash."
Jacqui touched the necklace on Caesaire's neck and smiled. "With an exception or two."
Andre laughed and touched the bracelets on Jacqui's wrist. "Or three or four!"
She squeezed his arm and said, "You know how I can't resist pretty-pretties!"
Andre moved close to Caesaire and said casually, "The usual place, Jacqui?"
She laughed and said, "As always! First door on the right, Frenchman!"
Andre took Caesaire by the hand.
"Wait till you see the view from the verandah upstairs!"

Andre unlocked the door on the second floor.
"This way, cher."
The door opened to a spacious suite. Two rooms. The bed was a four-poster with mosquito netting and a white coverlet edged in lace. A wicker dresser and rocker stood in the corner and a potted palm plant in the corner. A white ostrich plum for a fan stood in the corner. The french doors were open to admit the ocean breeze. The verandah overlooked the silvery sands of Jamaica.
She turned to Andre and he drew her into his arms. "It is just wonderful, darling!" she whispered. "Will we be staying here the night?"
"Most likely the week. Jacqui always gave me this room when I would stay here."
Andre drew the mosquito netting back. "And look at how high the bed sits! You would need a step or two to get into it!"
Just then there was a knock on the door.
"Andre? Pardon, but Etienne and I have the tally of all the treasure and I think you will want to go over it with Jacqui. She's waiting for you downstairs on the verandah," said Francois.
Andre held his hand out to Caesaire. "Coming, cher?"
She shook her head.
"Mais non. I shall want to stretch out on this luxurious bed. Don't be long!"

Andre close the door and went down the hall with Francois. "Is it as much as I think it is, mon frere?"
Francois gave a low whistle. "More than we imagined. Count Eladio must have bled the treasury dry to afford such luxuries. Damn Spaniards! Think they own the world!"
Jacqui was sitting in a wicker chair with John and Etienne sitting on the steps, a glass of iced sangria in their hands.
Jacqui's mother Perrine poured them each a glass and sat back down.
"Perrine, you are looking as fetching as always!" Andre said.
Perrine gave a laugh and slapped his knee.
"Go on wit' you now, Captain Beaudouin! You always be the flatterer!"
Jacqui lifted her hair off her neck and tied it back with a bandana. Her gold hoops flashed in the sun as she stretched her mocha-hued legs out. The gesture was not lost on Francois.
"Mère de Dieu, Captain Villard! You tease unmercifully!"
She touched her dagger that was scabbarded in her blouse and shook her head. "Randy dog, will you never learn? Do not make me do any alterations on you!"
Francois mopped his brow as the rest burst out into laughter.
Jacqui asked, "Where is your pretty lady?"
Andre replied, "She wanted some time to herself. She knew we would be embroiled in inventory lists."
Jacqui laughed, "I gave you the room on the end, Andre. For a reason!"
Andre raised his eyebrow and held out his hand.
"The inventory list, s'il vous plait, Jacqui?"
She laughed and withdrew it from a sheaf of papers.
"There it is!"
Andre skimmed through the list. "Mon Dieu, this has to be the motherlode of them all. We have more than enough to divide between the two crews!:
Etienne looked over Andre's shoulder. "And this shall be more than enough to secure Madame Nouvelle d'Orleans from Spain and return her to France!"

For the better part of an hour, the business end of the seizing of El Patre de Tigre was discussed and finally all terms were laid down.
"Shall we expect you and Caesaire for dinner, Andre?" Perrine asked.
The other men and Jacqui burst out laughing.
"He has been known to miss a meal or two, Maman Perrine!" John chuckled.
Andre laughed with them. "I have waited a long time for Caesaire, mes amis. For twelve long years.  And I am sure I shall wait no longer!"
He turned and took the steps two at a time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caesaire had dried off from the luxurious bath she took in the copper tub. Jacqui spared no expense when it came to the fineries of civilization. There were creams and lotions, pomades and powder.  She reveled in the luxuries now afforded by Jacqui's hospitality.
Andre opened the door and called out, "Caesaire?"
Caesaire came out of the small room and smiled at him.
"You are back faster than I had thought you would be."
He gave her a roguish grin.
Because there stood his Caesaire.
Wrapped in a sheet and wearing nothing but a three-strand pearl choker with a ruby.
And a smile.

[Blackjack Roberts]

"Mon Dieu, Cherie." He whispered. "That necklace looks far more attractive on you than it ever did in that box."

Caesaire smiled wickedly as she moved slowly towards her lover, letting the towel fall to the floor just before she entered his arms. her right hand tenderly stroked the back of his neck as she gazed deeply into his eyes. Softly she whispered,"Mon amour." Then pulled his mouth tenderly to hers, the kiss both long and tender, tempered with just the right amount of rising passion.

"I believe we may be late for dinner, Cherie." Andre's voice was deep and near breathless from the desire she brought forth in him.

She glanced playfully at the bed and smiled. "Aye, aye, Mon capitaine!"




Jacqueline leaned with crossed arms on the rail surrounding the large porch of her villa, gazing out to sea. Her coal black tresses tumbled down about her shoulders, a half full tankard of rum almost dangling from her right hand. The straight line of her full lips and the steady gaze of her large brown eyes were the look of one lost in thought.

Perrine came out to stand beside her only daughter. "And what has you looking so serious, Child?"

Jaquie started for a moment. "Sorry, Mama. I was just thinking."

"And where is Marie?"

"I sent her to town. I don't feel much like sharing my bed this night." Jaquie tipped the tankard to her lips, swallowing hard.

"I think something is troubling you." Perrine frowned slightly. "Is it Andre?"

Jaquie laughed. "You know me better than that, Mama. Perhaps it is his lovely woman."

"Jacqueline Villard." Perrine placed her hands firmly on her hips. "You should know better than to lie to your mama like that. Do you think I did not see the way you looked at him when ever he stayed here with us? Do you think I am so blind that I do not see the way you look at him still when you think no one else is watching you?"

Jaquie dropped her head a moment, looking down. Her long black eyelashes all but hiding her eyes. "Of all the men I have known Andre Beaudouin is the only one I had ever considered taking to my heart and my bed."

"And now it is too late?" Her mother asked softly.

"Yes. It is." Jaquie's voice was small and quiet. "I have seen the look in his eyes when he gazes at her. There is no doubt to any who know him. Andre is completely in love with her." She looked up into Perrine's eyes. "And we both know he is far too honorable for anything else."

A tear slid down her smooth mocha cheek. "Oh, Mama. I waited too long."

Perrine drew her daughter into her arms, gently patting her hair. "There, Child." She spoke softly in a tone mothers often use when their children hurt in a way only the heart can hope to heal. "Though you may not want to hear it. Andre Beaudouin is not the only man worthwhile in the world. You have a right to despise them, I will not deny you that, but you have blinded yourself for the sake of a few. If you have begun to think of one man in this way do not let the actions of a few evil men keep you from them all. There are still some out there who know how a woman should be treated and you will miss them if you do."

"No, Mama!" Jaquie's voice raised with determination. "I have seen them all and they are all the same. They only want for one thing from a woman and then they throw her aside like leftover food until they hunger for it again. I have lost the only man who was what a man should be."

Perrine smiled knowingly. "I think not, Jaquie, but it is your own heart you must know. Some men wear a mask and act as they believe others think they should. Perhaps they are afraid of being hurt too."

She looked out at the gathering soft light of evening as the sun began to set on the other side of the island and sighed. "Dinner is ready."

Jacqueline turned her gaze back out to the sea. "I will be in shortly, Mama."

Perrine left, closing the door softly behind her. Jaquie stared out at the darkening ocean. It was true. Had it not been for the aversion of men she had learned when she was young she would have spoken plainly to Andre, told him of her feelings for him. For the thousandth time in her life she cursed the Spanish overseer who had taken her by force when she was no more than thirteen. The sickening smell of his unwashed flesh, the pain of his brutal violation of her body, and most of all his mocking laughter at her tears. All of these had combined to make her feel as she now felt about all men, save one.

Silent tears began to course down her cheeks. In some ways she wished she had never met Andre. In him she had seen a side of men she would have never thought existed. He had treated her with respect and kindness. He made no crude advances towards her, nor acted like her only worth was below her waist. He had made her feel like an equal, like a friend. There could only be one man in all the world who acted like that. All the rest were like his randy little dog Francois. Thinking only with the sword they had been born with. Deep down she had been growing tired of women. As beautiful as it was, there was always something missing for her. Something she felt she needed. Now it would seem her only opportunity to try and discover what that may have been had slipped through her fingers.

She heard the door open again behind her. "I'll be there momentarily, Mama." She said.

"Please excuse me, Captain Villard." For a second time she started at the sound of Francois' voice.

She whirled around so fast that she forgot to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Letting her free hand drop to her thigh. "And what do you want, Randy little dog?!" Her anger rising to her voice.

"I have come to properly apologize for my actions that night, Capitaine." His voice was calm and different somehow. For a moment she looked hard at him to reassure herself that it was indeed Francois.

The French pirate slipped a hand inside his coat and pulled out a clean linen handkerchief, offering it to her before he continued. "I know it is no excuse, but I was very drunk that night and I did not know who you were. Had I known I would never have said the thing I said to you, not for twice the amount Etienne had bet me to do it."

Shakily she took the offered cloth and hid her surprise at the gentleness of his smile as he continued. "I know how I am when the others are around. I have dug my own grave there, but I would have you know that it has shamed me ever since to have treated one of the finest women it was ever my privilege to meet like that."

Her mouth dropped open in shock as he bowed low to her. "I wish you would do me the honor of accepting this as my penance for being such the fool. It would at the least let me know that I have made some amends to you."

He held out a bracelet, something he had obviously stolen from the booty of the Tigre. A series of jade roses, separated by alternating pearls and connected together by a exquisitely crafted chain of purest silver. She reached out and took the bracelet admiring the craftsmanship.

Francois bowed again and smiled in a way she had never seen him smile before. "Merci, Mademoiselle Villard. Merci. You have no idea how much this means to me. Now, I will bid you adieu."

He turned to leave and it suddenly occurred to her that he had made no reference to her beauty, or the revealing way she was dressed. In fact he had not even looked at her with the desire she had so often seen in the eyes of men. Perhaps her mama knew more than she did about the ways of men.

"Thank you, Francois." She barely whispered as he opened the door. So softly she was sure he did not hear.

Francois stopped, the door half open. Without looking back she heard him say. "Votre bienvenue, Jaquie. It was the least I could do and too long for you to wait." He shut the door quietly behind him.

Jacqueline fastened the trinket around her wrist. Looking at the kerchief in her hand she slipped it into her belt and smiled.

[Welsh Wench]

Caesaire pulled her dress over her head and shimmied into it, the silk skimming and falling. Andre sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his boots on.
"Andre, are we really that late for dinner?"
"Mais non, cher. Jacquie told me seven PM and that it is. So we are just a bit fashionably late."
She touched the necklace as she gazed in the mirror.
"It is so beautiful, my darling."
He came from behind her and kissed her neck. "And I have been well thanked!"
She turned to him with a grin on her face. "Do you remember the daisy chains I used to make?"
He laughed.
"Oui. You wove them into your hair like a crown. And they were strewn around your neck. I thought you were most beautiful. Like a wood nymph!"
She put her arms around his neck and drew his face towards hers. Tenderly she kissed him as he wrapped his arms around her
As she laid her head against his chest, she asked, "When shall we be in New Orleans?"
"In about three week's time. One week to distribute the booty and another two weeks till we arrive in port."
He held her back, his hands on her shoulders as he looked into her blue eyes.
"Something is troubling you, cher. What is it?"
Caesaire sighed. "I just wonder how Pere is going to take the news that you will be his son-in-law, Andre."
Andre threw his head back and laughed. "The most respected Christophe Trosclair who will have a pirate sitting across from him at the table!


Christophe Trosclair had the small carriage pull up to the pink Creole townhouse. It was beginning to grow dusk as Christophe looked out. The house was three floors, each with large windows with wrought iron balconies. Pots of roses adorned each porched tier and baskets of ivies hung from the ceilings. The shutters were painted white and the door stood out in polished cypress. The windows were immaculate and were framed with curtains of lace.
He alighted and knocked on the door. To his surprise, Marie opened the door herself.
Christophe bowed and said, "Madame Beaudouin! I--I'm sorry. I was surprised to see you answer the door yourself."
Marie laughed. "It is an old habit, Monsieur Trosclair. Andre wanted me to hire servants so I wouldn't have to work anymore. But no one could run my household like I could. I do have a woman come in twice a week and help me and of course, there is a gardener to keep the grounds looking wonderful. But where are my manners? Please step in while I fetch my wrap."

Christophe stepped into the parlor. The furnishings were elegant without being gaudy as sometimes is the case with nouveau riche. Heavy drapery hung on the sides of the windows but the lace covered the curtains. Almost as if Marie could hardly bear to keep the sunshine out. The mahogany tables were highly polished and a few glass lamps were adorning the top of the tables, along with lace doilies. Vases of flowers were scattered about, their sweet smell subtly filling the room.  Christophe picked up a small miniature. It was the portrait of a young man. He had light brown hair and blue eyes and an air of quiet dignity. Christophe recognized him from seeing him as the man had worked at his trade. In fact, Christophe had hired him to do some millwork around his fireplace years ago.
Marie came into the room and saw him looking at the picture. She said softly, "That was my husband Anton." She took the miniature and gently held it.
"A fine man. A fine father. He's been gone sixteen years now."
Christophe said gently, "The fever?"
She put the portrait back and nodded. "And you?"
Christophe said quietly, "The fever too. Clothilde has been gone for eighteen years."
"Do you still think of her often?"
"When I look at Caesaire, yes, I do. So much like her mother, she is. Headstrong and willful. But Clothilde was different in that she listened. Caesaire does not listen at all. A rebellious one, that she is."
Marie laughed. "Perhaps this is a subject we shall have to discuss over dinner then."
He smiled, taking her cloak and draping it gently on her shoulders.
"Oui. I do think this is the time we shall have to take to get to know one another. As we may be related in the future, Madame Beaudouin."
"Please...call me Marie."
"And you must call me Christophe."

They sat in the restaurant, the remnants of a delicious meal of pork roast and potatoes, cinnamon apples and fresh vegetables on the plates.
"More wine, Marie?"
"Oui, Christophe. Un peu...that is enough!"
The two had made small talk for over an hour while dining.
Finally Marie broached the subject they had been leading to.
"I suppose we should talk about Andre and Caesaire."
Christophe sighed. "Please do not mistake me in this, Marie. Andre is a fine young man. But Caesaire was too young to make a match. And she was starting to run wild. Always into things with Sebastian and Andre. So I sent her to St Ursuline's to be properly educated."
"You mean she was not in Charleston as Isabelle had told me?"
"Mais non. She was close by so I could keep an eye on her progress and visit her. Marie, she is my only child and all I had left of Clothilde. I didn't want her to get in any...trouble."
Marie said evenly, "And you feel my Andre would get her in...trouble, as you so delicately put it."
Christophe could feel his face redden. While he did like Andre, he felt that Caesaire was meant for a man of a higher station in life.
He said, "I could see there was the beginnings of more than friendship between the two of them."
"And Andre, being a young man, would seduce her and leave her with a small package?"
"I was trying to spare our families any shame in our standing in the community."
"Christophe, you mean YOUR standing. I had none. Poor I was born, in poorness I raised Andre as best  I could and I have done well. He is a fine man and prosperous. He had invested whatever money he has made in land and businesses. He may have attained his wealth by unconventional means, but mark my words. Andre will be a force to be reckoned with in New Orleans. Whatever it takes. And I have a feeling your daughter will be right beside him all the way. And if they are together--as I think 'together' is a word you and I both know what we mean--there may be a mutual grandchild in our future. We may be related yet, Monsieur Trosclair."

Marie continued on.
"And as far as unconventional, it is a well-known secret--whether you like to acknowledge it or not--that your Caesaire was involved with Jean Lafitte, helping to smuggle in the pretties and fineries that bedeck half the women in New Orleans. Do you honestly think we would be able to afford the silks and perfumes if we had to pay the taxes and tariffs the port has imposed? I think not. So..like it or not, we both have renegades for children and I, for one, am proud of them. Andre rose above his poverty and looks out for his maman. Caesaire made her way in a man's world by whatever means she could, laughing in the face of conventional society."

Christophe knew not what to say so he said the first thing that came into his mind.
"Dessert, Marie?"
She smiled behind her wine glass and said, "I do believe I shall, Monsieur Trosclair."

[Blackjack Roberts]

Caesaire and Andre walked among the prospective buyers crammed into the warehouse. Stopping here and there to make polite conversation as their clients perused the wares. The atmosphere was slightly different that Caesaire was used to when she marketed her rightfully taken plunder as a privateer with letters of mark to prove just claim to the goods. Although she did recognize some of the merchants there, they did not seem very anxious to be recognized by her. She knew them to be some of her highest paying clients and very upstanding members of New Orleans society with some of the richest clientele in the world.

Andre seemed to know each of them personally as he moved to shake a hand here, or chat up the particular quality of an item there. From the ease of the meetings she guessed this was not the first time many of these upstanding merchants had purchased goods of questionable origin from him. Many, she noticed, paid particular attention to the ruby choker he had given her. Appraising it's value from habit and raising more than a few eyebrows when they had settled on a price in their heads.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Hallett." Andre extended his hand to one of her former clients. "A pleasure to see you again at one of my little sales, Ami."

"Bonjour, Andre, Mademoiselle Trosclair." The balding dress shop owner nodded to her, clearly uncomfortable having her find him here. "I was just checking the quality of the silks." He managed a smile. "I must say, never have I seen such quality before. Most of what we get is of second quality at best. These rival the silk China keeps for themselves."

"A lucky catch, Monsieur." Andre shrugged, Pleased to have it confirmed that the plunder of the Tigre was anything but ordinary. "From what I could tell all of the goods are of the rare quality."

"Indeed, Captain." Hallett stroked one of the light blue bolts lovingly. "With material such as this I would be famous even in Paris." He lowered his voice and glanced about. "Do you suppose we could arrive at a privet price for the lot, Captain Beaudouin?" The hope and greed creeping into his voice.

Andre chuckled good naturedly. "I am sorry, Bernard, but the choice is not mine alone this time. Captain Villard had to help me with the taking of this particular prize and we both agreed. The prices will have to stand as they are. Of course, you may always ask her. I will agree if she may be persuaded."

Caesaire delicately put one hand to her mouth to hide her smile as the merchant went white with the thought. "T-Thank you, Non." He all but stammered. "I believe I have brought enough to purchase the lot. Merci, Andre."

Andre bowed. "A good day to you, Mon Ami."

Caesaire held her mirth until they were out of earshot, then broke into a gale of laughter. "I do believe Monsieur Bernard Hallett has had some dealings with Jaquie before, non?"

"Oui." Andre grinned, chuckling himself. "Most of these traders have been privy to sales of both of us. More than a few made the same mistake Francois made with her. She is a very lovely woman."

She turned to him, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "She is in love with you, you know."

He gathered her into his arms. "Ah, Cheri. Perhaps so, but I choose not to notice. Business and pleasure do not mix well."

Caesaire leaned close. "So sure of that, are you, Cheri?"

"There are, as they say, exceptions to every rule." He let one finger trace the length of her face. "Still why would you believe her to be in love with moi?"

She lightly spun from his embrace, snapped open her black lace patterned fan and gazed at him teasingly over one shoulder. "A woman knows these things, Amore." Snapping the fan shut again she turned back, placing the tip against his chest. "You men take so little notice of the signs we give you, unless your minds are in the boudoir.
"
Andre effected a shocked look. "Moi?? Surely not, Mon Amore. I have ever been the most sensitive to the emotions of a lady."

"We will discuss that over dinner tonight, Monsieur Beaudouin. I hear there is a delightful tavern in town......and you still owe me a beignet when we return home to New Orleans." She winked playfully, turned and walked away with an extra swing to her hips.

Andre grinned, watching for a moment. "Mon Deiu." He thought. "At least I can say with you, Mon Amore, never will there be a dull moment."



Jean-Pierre Rousseau watched from a distance as Beaudouin strode away to catch up with Caesaire. It would seem that Monsieur Renard's information was more than correct if he were any judge of lovers. No, more than lovers. Had he not known better Rousseau would have sworn he had just witnessed an exchange usually reserved for those in a happy marriage. This alone made his mission more useful than his employer could have dreamed.

From what he had overheard as he pretended to be particularly interested in a Ming vase, they would be alone tonight in town. He could not wait for a better opportunity. Andre was too unpredictable to be allowed free reign in the up coming coup. He would have to be brought to heel sooner or later and Caesaire Trosclair had so far proved to be the best chance they had of doing just that. Even better, if what Le Renard suspected turned out to be true she could also prove useful in placing Jean LaFitte under his thumb as well.

This was almost too good to be true. The two most powerful pirates in New Orleans cowed by one woman? Sacre Blue! Who would have thought such a thing? Rousseau smiled to himself as he made his way to the entrance of the warehouse. If the woman were this exciting perhaps Monsieur Renard should consider keeping her for himself. C'est dommage. It was none of his affair. Once she was safely back in New Orleans Renard could decide what to do with his captured queen then. A double checkmate by the capture of a single queen. Well played, Monsieur.



Jacqueline Villard smiled wistfully as she watched Andre and Caesaire make the rounds of the buyers, her arm draped around the waist of Marie Juliana, her first mate and oft time lover. She tried to be careful, but there was little mistaking the wistful look in her dark brown eyes.

"You still pine for him, don't you, Jaquie?" Marie cocked her head to one side. Though she respected the Creole pirate captain she could not keep the jealousy from her voice. "Is that why you sent me away last night?"

"No, My pretty pretty." Jaquie lied. "It has been a long voyage and I wanted to spend time with Mama. Is that so hard to understand?"

"I suppose not." Marie sighed, letting the matter drop.

Jaquie hugged her closer. "Do not worry, Pretty pretty. I am just out of sorts at the moment. Give me a little time and all will be well, you will see."

Marie smiled as best she could and nodded. Perhaps that was all there was to it. Still, there were the times she had let pass. The times when in the heat of passion Jaquie had spoken a name other than hers without realizing it. The name of Andre Beaudouin. True it had not happened often, but it had been more than once. Marie was more than happy to see Andre finally captured by another. True, her captain, much like Andre had never committed herself to any one relationship, but Marie had always held out hope of becoming her one true love. Silently she thanked Caesaire Trosclair for stealing away Andre's heart and putting him beyond Jaquie's reach.

Jacqueline was again lost in her thoughts. Was it so much Andre she wanted, or was it something else? Since the rape she had never willingly shared her bed with a man. Andre had found the love of his life and was now beyond her hopes. Why did she still think of him? Why was it becoming harder and harder to be satisfied with the love of another woman? She had never bedded Andre and before him the thought of being touched that way by a man revolted her. She had never before lied to Marie, either. She should be happy. She should feel contented, but all she felt now was confused and deeply troubled.

[Welsh Wench]

Caesaire was pulling her white silk buccaneer shirt over her head as Andre came out of the bath.
"Andre, it shall be such great fun! I haven't been to Port Royal in such a long time. Besides, I learned in this sweet trade that the tavern is the place to go if you want to find out the pulse of the town. It is the next best thing to running down to the docks to see what ships have come in."

Andre reached in his dresser drawer for a shirt of black silk. "And I want to find out the news of Juan Carlos. Since he was in the Spanish shipping lanes, he must have been picked up by now. And I am sure he has some explaining to do to Count Eladio."
Caesaire carefully laid her new choker in the velvet box that Andre had given her.
"Cher, you are not going to wear the necklace?"
"Mais non, Andre. I saw the raised eyebrows and the speculation of how much it is worth. Best to go to the tavern in a very low-key manner. Besides, we both know there are pickpockets and thieves. No one can be trusted and I would hate to lose such a token of love."

Andre picked up his cavalier hat and ran his fingers over the burgundy and black feathers.
Caesaire sat on the bed and sighed. "I always love the way the cavalier hat dips down on your eye. It makes you look so....dashing!"
He smiled at her in the mirror as he adjusted his hat.
"Then perhaps you would like to look behind the chair, cher."
She jumped off the bed and within seconds brought out a hat box that Andre had hid.
"You didn't! When did you find the time to go shopping?"
"When you were admiring that set of crystal goblets. You were engaged in a conversation with Monsieur Becnel so I was able to slip over to the milliner on the other side and order the hat. Etienne picked it up for me. Go ahead--open it!"
She grinned at him and kissed her fingers to him. As she lifted up the box, there on a wrapping of silk was a cavalier hat of black brocade with dark crimson feathers trailing down the back.
"Oh...cher!" she breathed. "C'est tres bon! Je t'aime!"
She put the hat on and twirled around in it, looking over her shoulder and giving Andre a wink.
He grabbed her around the waist and they toppled to the bed.
They kissed deeply until Caesaire broke away and said, "Later, mon amore. We have a tavern to see and information to gather!"
Andre sat up and sighed, "Oui...but we shall discuss it later."
She stood up and grabbed his hands, pulling him up and close to her.
"Oui, cher. Of that you can depend on!"

Jacquie sat on the verandah, a bourbon over ice and a sprinkling of sugar in a tall glass. She put her feet up on the railing and had a cool cloth on her neck, wiping down the rivulets of sweat. The heat of the day had been almost unbearable except for a sea breeze. She could hardly wait for the evening when the breeze would bring in a bit of ocean coolness.
She closed her eyes, thinking of how different her life might have been if she had spoken up to Andre. Perhaps she would have been the one on Andre's arm instead of Caesaire. As much as Jacquie would love to hate Caesaire, she found it impossible. One night when Andre and Jacquie were in Antigua getting drunk to celebrate their latest prize, Andre had spoken of a childhood friend and had wondered out loud whatever became of her.
Her.
It was the look on Andre's face that sent her heart plummeting.
Jacquie knew nothing of this phantom love or how deeply Andre had been hurt by her leaving. Yet she knew this was no ordinary friendship. In retrospective, seeing them together put all the puzzle pieces together.
And yet still...

"Captain Villard?"
"Yes, Francois?" she replied without even opening her eyes.
He cleared his voice and she slowly opened her eyes. Francois stood there in a clean white linen buccaneer shirt, his brown hair caught back in a ribbon and his cavalier hat was in his hand. His green eyes reflected something that Jacquie had not seen in a long time.
Respect.
"Andre is um...occupied at the moment..."
At that Jacquie felt her heart plummet a little, and Francois continued, "...and I just came from the warehouse. The entire west sector of the goods has been auctioned and paid for. The bidders will be there at 9 AM to pick up their goods. Etienne has arranged the banking of the funds and has a full accounting that you and Captain Beaudouin can review in the morning."
Jacquie smiled at him. "And you did a very good job, randy little dog!"
Francois was startled. Gone was the derision with which she had called him that before. It was replaced by a gentle teasing.
He looked at her wrist and saw that she was wearing the jade bracelet he had given her as a token of his remorse for boorish behaviour.
"That bracelet could never grace a Spanish senorita's wrist as well as it does yours, Captain. I am to understand that you accept my apologies?"
She laughed gently and said, "Oui, Francois. I have forgiven--but not forgotten!--your little faux pas."
He smiled broadly, his eyes lighting up.
"Then I shall retire with a buoyed spirit, Captain Villard."
As he turned to go, Jacquie said quietly, "Captain Beaudouin and his lovely lady were going to the new tavern--the Three Crowns--and they have invited me to go along with them."
"How nice for you to be able to relax, Captain Villard."
"I was wondering if you would like to escort me."
Francois was taken aback. "But I thought you were..um....already keeping company with someone from your crew."
Jacquie laughed quietly. "Marie Julianna was still collecting monies owed from the east sector.  Don't get any ideas, my randy pup. It is an escort, not a commitment but an invitation."
Francois grinned and bowed low. "Then I shall be delighted. What time shall we say?"
"Andre said nine o'clock."
"Then I shall meet you on the verandah in an hour, Jacquie."
"Tres bien, Francois."
Neither of them had noticed they had used their proper names.

"Cher, you look absolutely magnifique!"
Andre could not take his eyes off his lady love. Caesaire was resplendent in her white silk, buccaneer shirt and burgundy breeches. A black brocade frock coat and the new cavalier hat completed the picture.
Jacquie was accompanied by Francois. She wore her linen shirt of mimosa yellow with a pomegranate skirt and soft tan kid boots. Her hair flowed past her shoulders.

As the four of them walked into the tavern, all conversation stopped.
Caesaire whispered, "Was it something we said?"
Andre whispered back, "Stay close to Jacquie. She is well armed with her dagger and she has a pistol stuffed into her waistband.
All eyes followed them as they sat at a table.
"Either they are very impressed or they are very perturbed, mon capitan, " Francois whispered.
"Time will tell, Francois. Time will tell. But keep a sharp eye out."

[Blackjack Roberts]

Rousseau leaned against the bar making it a point not to stare at the foursome as they entered, hiding his surprise. Andre and Caesaire he had expected, but there had been no mention of them sharing the evening with another couple. This had complicated things and he secretly signaled his comrades to wait until he had assessed the situation more thoroughly.

His men went back to their drinking and conversation and he had hoped that the shocked silence from this unforeseen turn of events had not tipped their hand. Beaudouin he was certain they could handle, at least long enough to spirit his lover away. The addition of two more pirates made the outcome less than certain.

Pretending to hold a conversation with the lackey to his right he looked the four pirates over carefully. Jacqueline Villard and, could it be? Francois Loupe?! How could this be? The captain of the Calypso's Revenge was well known to despise men. Still it did complicate things further. Villard was well known for her ability with the sword and Loupe was one of Beaudouin's own men, as well as a personal friend by all accounts. All four of them were armed as well. Very prudent.

The original plan had been to engage Andre in a duel, thus allowing his men to spirit Caesaire away while he was thus occupied. There was little hope of that now as the additional members of his party would no doubt be watching each other's backs. He needed both time to think and to convey any new plan to his men. Perhaps it would be better to scuttle the whole mission.

Andre held out Caesaire's chair as Francois did for Jaquie. The room had returned to it's normal atmosphere almost as soon as the unusual silence had taken it upon their entry. He allowed his eyes to rake the room, searching for any hint of trouble, but to all intents and purposes everyone seemed to be ignoring their presence now. What could have possibly caused their arrival to illicit such a response? Suddenly a light went off in his brain.



Of course! Mon Deiu! How could he have been so dull witted? Jaquie! She was well known here in her home port. Seeing her being escorted my a man would have been enough to give him pause. In fact it had done just that when he and Caesaire had found the two of them standing at the bottom of the stairs awaiting their arrival. Though he had hid his surprise well he had expected Marie Juliana to be Jaquie's escort for the night. Certainly not Francois. Caesaire had discreetly squeezed his arm to signal her own disbelief.

The Creole pirate captain relaxed. There was no outward indication that anything else was amiss and he did not recognize anyone in the room as a potential enemy. Lifting his hand into the air he motioned for the serving wench.

"Mademoiselle, s'il vous plait." He grinned.

"Oui, Monsieur?" The pretty brunette smiled.

"Je voudrais..." Andre went on to order the finest rum and a bottle of the best wine to have with their lobster dinner.



"That, then, is the plan." Jean-Pierre Rousseau whispered lowly to the table he had moved over to. "We can not hope that such an opportunity will fall into our laps a second time and Monsieur Renard was explicit in his orders. One way, or another Caesaire Trosclair leaves with us this night."

"Are you sure, Mon ami?" One of the other two whispered back. "Andre Beaudouin is dangerous enough on his own, but with that hellcat at his side...." He let the point hang in the air as he glanced in Jaquie's direction for a moment.

"I know full well her presence changes things!" Rousseau hissed. "Don't forget one of his most trusted aides is here as well, but we have no choice. Either we take her now with just these three, or we try to fight with his entire crew! Perhaps hers as well! At least this way we have a chance!"

"Very well." The other spoke up. "We risk all now while the odds are better. We'll spread the word and await your signal, Jean-Pierre."

"As long as they stick to the plan we should have very little trouble." Rousseau grinned and stood to return to the bar.



Dinner had gone extremely well, Andre found himself smiling at the ease with which Jaquie and Francois were conversing with each other. It was as if an unseen barrier between them had been lifted and they were getting along like old friends. He leaned over to Caesaire and whispered.

"It would seem our "randy little dog" has gotten over his fear of the whip."

Caesaire chuckled slightly. "Or neutering as the case may be, Cher."

Andre almost spit the mouthful of wine he had taken across the table. Jaquie and Francios seemed oblivious to them, deep in their own conversation.

"Please, Mon amore, a warning before you become witty." He chuckled. "I am sure a face full of wine would break our companions mood, N'cest pa?"

As she opened her mouth to reply one of the pirates from the bar half staggered over to them, his eyes glued to her.

"Excusez-moi, Mademoiselle." He leaned rudely forward onto their table. "Are you not Caesaire Trosclair?"

"Mais oui, Monsieur." The blonde beauty replied icily. "Pourquoi?"

"Nothing much, Mademoiselle." Rousseau put on his best drunken smile. "I was perhaps wondering, if you would prefer the company of a true Frenchman to this Creole dandy?"

Andre was on his feet in a moment, his face beet red with outrage. At that very moment one of the pirates who had been sitting at the table behind them leapt up and grabbed Jaquie from behind pinning her arms helplessly to her sides and holding a razor sharp dagger to her throat. The other leveled a flintlock at Francois' head and a third pointed his own pistol at Andre.

"Come, come, Captain Beaudouin." Jean-Pierre smiled wickedly. "There is no need for the violence. Mademoiselle Trosclair will be quite safe in my company. Unless you decide to play the hero. Then who knows what may happen to her."

Andre fumed at the ease with which they had been taken unawares, his hazel eyes burning with rage. Before he could answer Caesaire smiled sweetly, dabbed her mouth with a lace napkin and stood up.

"Why Monsieur, all you had to do was ask in privet." She sighed like a bored lady of New Orleans. "To be honest I have grown more than a little tired of this lower class lifestyle. Sure it was fun as a bit of diversion, but far beneath my station as a Trosclair."

Rousseau's eyes widened, then he burst into raucous laughter. "So all of this was an act to have a bit of fun?!!" He asked incredulously.

"But of course." Caesaire smiled as she walked over to the kidnapper. "You don't honestly think a woman of my breeding would stay with such a low born ruffian as this, do you?! Why the very idea!"

Andre stared at his one love in complete shock. Had it all been nothing more than an act? Something to pay him back for the times he had allowed Sebastian to help tease her when they were children. He felt his heart begin to tear as she reached out her delicate hand for Rousseau to take. He fought as never before to keep the unbidden tears from his eyes.

No sooner had Jean-Pierre reached out to take her hand than Caesaire's boot flew from beneath her skirt, connecting between his legs with a loud thump. In a flash both of Francios' arms moved in a blur. With his left fist he knocked the pistol pointing at his head aside, sending the ball out of the tavern window. His right hand flew forward, a silvery streak crossing the short distance between him and Jaquie. Her assailant fell back dead, with a throwing dagger buried to the hilt in his right eye.

Jacqueline pulled her thigh dagger free, throwing it in one fluid motion. The pirate that had held Francois at bay was reaching for his sword as the deadly missile took him in the heart. Andre moved like a demon. Jerking one of his own pistols free he fired, a blossom of red in the forehead of the shocked man who had trained his pistol from Andre to Caesaire proved he had hit his mark. At that moment several more pirates jumped to their feet with swords drawn.

The foursome immediately drew their own weapons and the normally peaceful tavern soon turned into a battle ground worthy of any sea bound fight they had ever been involved in. Jaquie and Francois put their backs together and sent at least two more of their attackers to the afterlife. Andre and Caesaire fought side by side, every once in a while exchanging wicked smiles as soon the last of their assailants took to their heels and ran for their very lives.

"Now." Andre breathed heavily from the exertion. "Let us have some answers."

Turning to where Caesaire had felled Rousseau he found that at sometime during the fray the man had managed to escape. Quickly he pulled his remaining pistol and strode over to the tavern owner with murderous purpose.

"Since one pigeon has, how you say, flown the coop, I would suggest you start talking and quickly, Monsieur!" He growled at the frightened man who cowered beneath his pistol barrel.

"I swear, Monsieur, I had no choice!!!" The round balding man squeaked. "They arrived but a few moments before you, chased all my regular costumers away and swore they would kill me if I breathed a word!! Please! It is the truth!! I do not know them!!"

The terror in the man's eyes convinced Andre that he was being honest. Reaching into his pocket he pulled a small leather purse and weighed it in his hand for a moment before tossing it onto the bar.

"There should be enough there to pay for our meal and the damages." He scowled a bit anyway for effect. "Should we ever return and such a thing is happening you may always send a note with our meal, Monsieur."

The tavern owner breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Sir. I will!" He said earnestly.

Andre allowed himself a grin. "And by the way."

"Yes, Monsieur??"

"The lobster was excellent."

[Welsh Wench]

Jean Pierre Rousseau barely made it to his room at the inn. He crawled into bed and curled up, aching from the blow he received from the knee of Caesaire Trosclair. Sweat ran profusely down his face, both from the pain and the dread of having to tell Monsieur Renard of his failure to deliver Caesaire Trosclair in a timely fashion. He only hoped word of his humiliation did not reach the ears of New Orleans Society.

~~~~~~~~~~

The four pirates walked quickly down the street towards Jacquie's villa on the shoreline. Ever vigilant, their fingers nervously tapped their rapiers and daggers, The men made sure their pistols were at the ready.
No one said a word.
Within fifteen minutes, they were sitting on the verandah, each lost in their own thoughts.
Francois finally broke the silence.
"What do you suppose they wanted?"
Jacquie shrugged. "Money?"
Andre lit a black cigar and said quietly, "They wanted Caesaire."
From the darkness of the chaise, she asked, "But why? Why me?"
Andre took a deep inhalation. "It is obvious, cherie. I see Jean Lafitte's hand all over this."
"WHAT?"
Francois said, "I am afraid I have to agree with Andre, Caesaire. Your ship and crew were murdered. And in port, I might add."
"But...but why?"
Jacquie said, "Isn't it obvious? Jean was not only spurned by you, he was almost killed by you. Retribution."
Caesaire suddenly stood up. "I'm not feeling well. If you will please excuse me, I'm going to bed."
Andre stood up with her. She gently laid a hand on his chest and said softly, "Please, darling, stay down here and enjoy the night air with Francois and Jacquie. I just have a headache."
He looked at her worriedly but she gently touched his cheek and whispered, "I'll be alright, Andre. I just want to lie down."
He nodded and gently squeezed her hand. In a low voice, he said, "I shall be up before too long, cher."
To Jacquie, she said, "I am very sorry to be the cause of any distress around here, Captain Villard."
Jacquie gave her a smile and said, "Into every life, a little spice must fall, pretty one."

"I don't like it. Not one bit. First her ship. Then the kidnapping when she was supposed to meet us at the dock. And then the encounter with Jean on the island. Now this."
Francois took the brandy that Jacquie had handed him. "Merci, Jacquie. I agree, Andre. There are far too many instances for it all to be a coincidence."
Andre frowned, "I don't know if he will attempt to have her harmed or what. And when will the next attack be?"
Francois swirled his brandy. "Who can say? I think we should maybe post a watch over Caesaire and keep her away from the marketplace. We only have a week to go."
Jacquie said quickly, "She's a very capable, headstrong woman. Will she agree to it?"
Andre's mouth drew into a tight line. "She will have no choice, Jacquie. I shall see to it that she understands. Her safety is of utmost importance. Now if you will please excuse me, I'll see to it that she is alright."

Andre went inside and Jacquie and Francois listened to his footsteps climbing the stairs.
"Things will be alright, Francois."
He said quietly, "I am sure. But I know that Andre will feel so much more at ease once he is back in New Orleans and makes her his own."
Jacquie couldn't help but feel a tug at her heart.
"What do you mean?"
"Did Andre not tell you?"
She shook her  head.
Francois continued, "He and Caesaire intend to be married as soon as they return to New Orleans. Whether her father approves or not."
Jacquie replied quietly, "I see."
Francois continued, "They have known each other since they were children. Andre once got drunk with me in a tavern in Aruba and told me there was a girl he had intended to marry but she was spirited off to school and he never heard from her again. Caesaire came aboard the ship about a month ago at one of Andre's legendary port parties and they immediately fell back in love."
Jacquie murmured, "I cannot compete with that."
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I said, 'I cannot conceive of that.' I mean, falling so quickly in love."
"Andre never stopped loving her. And seeing Caesaire, I can see why. Funny thing, this...."
"What?"
"In all the ports we have been in, all the women that Andre has known....none of them were blonde."
"So?"
"It's almost as if he didn't want his physical needs intruding upon her memory."
"Like he would feel he is betraying or replacing her?"
"Something like that."
They were each silent for a minute.
"More brandy, Francois?"
"I don't mind if I do, Jacquie."
They sat in companionable silence, finishing their drinks, each lost in their own thoughts.

Andre knocked softly on the door, then opened it slowly.
"Caesaire?" he whispered.
She was curled up on the bed, her face in the pillow. She didn't answer him, but her body was shaking.
Alarmed, he walked swiftly over to her and realized she was sobbing.  He gathered her in his arms like a mother would a child and gently rocked her, his hands stroking her hair and making soothing sounds.
She buried her face in his shirt and continued to cry.
Muffled, he heard, "I want to go home. I want to go home, Andre!"
He held her close and kissed the top of her head. "We can't go home just yet, love. But we will. As soon as this business is wrapped up, we shall go home."
She clung all the tighter to him.
"And then you will marry me?"
"As soon as we get home, Caesaire."
"Bien," she whispered. "I won't rest until we are man and wife."
He lifted her face to his, gently wiping the tears off her face.
"Then let's do it now."
"What?"
"Let's get married. Right here in Jamaica."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a loud, insistent knock on the door.
Rousseau groaned and hobbled over to the door.
The visitor in the dark cloak did not even wait to be invited in.
"Nous devons parler. Maintenant!"
Rousseau was still bent over, every movement delivering a wave of pain that only a man could feel.
"Later."
"Mais non! NOW!"

[Blackjack Roberts]

Still unable to walk without discomfort, Jean-Pierre hobbled back to set on the edge of his bed. "You will excuse me if I sit, Monsieur?'

Drausin D'Estrehan pulled the hood of the cloak back revealing his features. The scowl on his normally handsome face would have soured fresh milk. "I care not if you sit, or stand, Monsieur Rousseau." He sneered. "What I do care about is the fact that you and your men have failed to acquire Caesaire Trosclair!"

Jean-Pierre looked incredulously at Drausin for a moment, the heat of his own anger rising quickly within him. "Do not press your luck with me, Lawyer! At the moment I am in the greatest of discomfort from that she devil! If you insist on coming to me acting like you are my employer I shall surely see to it that Monsieur Renard will be informed of your untimely demise during our trip home!"

Drausin Took a deep breath, quickly calming himself. He had volunteered to accompany Renard's mercenaries for the opportunity to be Caesaire's keeper. As soon as he could spirit her away from that bastard Beaudouin he was certain she would see that they belonged together. Benjamin had promised that once Andre was out of the way she would be his.

"Forgive me, Monsieur Rousseau." He said in a far more friendly tone. Now was not the time to press his luck with this pirate, but once they returned to New Orleans with Caesaire, Jean-Pierre Rousseau would learn just how "helpless" this lawyer was. "My concern for the success of our mission got the better of me."

"Exactly what went wrong? From my vantage point across the street I could see very little of what happened inside the tavern. The windows of such places here are made in a way to discourage seeing what transpires inside, even though I was just across the street waiting to help spirit Caesaire away."

Rousseau tenderly swung his feet back onto the cot and leaned his back against the wall, groaning slightly. Drausin smiled inwardly. "I had not counted on them being accompanied. The last I knew Beaudouin and that she devil were to be alone. Thankfully I have the back up plan."

Drausin cocked an eyebrow quizzically, to which the mercenary smiled wickedly. "Have no fear, Baby sitter, Caesaire Trosclair will be in our hands before the week is out! This I promise."




"What?" Caesaire's mouth dropped open.

"I am serious, Mon amore." Andre softly brushed her hair back. Though no stranger to the pain of others he found that none ever affected him as much as Caesaire's did. He had felt it when they were children and the agony of seeing her hurt in anyway was as keen now as it was then. Perhaps it had been because he had helped to cause it then that he would do anything to keep her from it now.

"I know you would rather have the big wedding in the finest church of New Orleans, Cheri. If that is still your wish, I will happily wait. I offer it now in hopes it will ease the tears from your eyes and replace the smile I so dearly love upon your lovely face."

"Oh, Andre." She threw her arms around his neck. "I still want us to be married before all of New Orleans. I want every one to know that I am your woman. It's just all of this strife that Jean is putting us through.......I never wanted to cause such trouble in your life. He nearly killed you because of me!"

Andre chuckled. "Non, Cheri. Jean and I have been at odds for much longer than your return to me. And if that blow to my head has not rattled my memory it was I who had won that duel. If not for that treacherous lackey Lafitte would be the one feeding the gulls by now."

"But, Mon amore...." She began, tenderly searching his eyes.

"Non, Cheri." Andre gently cut her off. "I'll have no buts. Je t'aime, Caesaire. I always have, in one way, or another. You are not the cause of this, and I will not have you believe that you are. This thing between Jean Lafitte and myself has been brewing for quite some time now. Sooner, or later, it would have come to a head."

Caesaire thought for a long moment. "Very well." she said at last. "But I still wish to be properly married at home. I want Jean to know beyond doubt that he has lost me to you forever."

"It will be as you wish, Amoreux." He smiled softly as they fell into each others arms.




Francois and Jaquie leaned against the porch railing, absently staring at the white washed wall as they sipped their tankards of rum. And uneasy silence had fallen between them after Andre had left. One that strangely enough made their hearts pound.

After a long moment Francois spoke softly. "The night is getting late, Jaquie. I should be going. I do want you to know that I can not remember when I have enjoyed the company more."

Jacqueline started slightly. She had found that she was thinking deeply, imagining that it was her in Andre's arms instead of Caesaire. She felt a flush of guilt that she had been ignoring Francois. He had been a complete gentleman the entire night and had quite possibly saved her life as well.

"So soon, My randy little pup?" She said surprised at the huskiness that had crept into her voice.

"Mais oui, Mademoiselle. I....." Before he could finish he found himself in Jaquie's arm's as her full lips caught him in the most passionate kiss he had ever experienced. Without thinking he enclosed the ebony beauty in his arms and returned her tenderness before softly pulling away.

Gently he put his forehead against hers. "This is not fair to you, Cheri." He whispered tenderly. "I can not say that it is not something I want, for I do. But not like this. I feel this would be more from a pain you have and I will not take the advantage of you like this. You are too good a woman for that."

Slowly he drew his head away from her and gently lifted her chin with one finger to look into those huge brown eyes. "Give it some time, Jaquie, and if you find that you still feel the same I will always be here for you. I would gladly be yours when you are truly ready. Bonne nuit, Cheri" Tenderly he kissed her forehead, then her hand before leaving.

Tears of jealous rage filled Marie Juliana's eyes as she watched the exchange from the edge of the jungle. She had come hopping to find her lover and captain in a better mood. At the worst she would have expected Jaquie to still be a bit petulant after spending the evening watching Andre and his love all night, but nothing she could have imagined prepared her for this!

Turning she ran into the jungle towards the village. Her heart breaking with every step. No! this could not be! She would not lose Jaquie to a man!! Not now! Not ever!

[Welsh Wench]

Caesaire sighed happily in the arms of her buccaneer. He gently brushed her hair back and kissed her neck. "A sou for your thoughts, love."
She moved her body to snuggle closer to him, if she possibly could. "I was wondering how Mama Beaudouin will take the news."
"You mean of our engagement?"
"Oui. She was always very nice to me but as anyone would be to a little girl. I am wondering how she will feel with me as part of her family."
Andre kissed her and said, "She was very accepting of it years ago."
Caesaire broke away and said, "What do you mean, 'years ago'?"
Andre stroked her cheek. "That night I kissed you in the courtyard of your house was the night I decided I was going to marry you. So I went home and told Maman of my plans."
Caesaire pulled the covers up to cover them. "And what did she say? Was she surprised?"
"Oui et non. She pointed out how young you were but I said I was willing to wait until you were fifteen."
She laughed. "I am well over fifteen now, Andre."
His lips traveled down her shoulder. "I am well aware of that. As much as the child captivated me, the woman who replaced her has won my heart. I'm totally spellbound."
"Oh, Andre! I want us to see Pere Antoine as soon as we get home. But first we must tell your mother together."
"And then we tell your father?"
Caesaire grew silent. "That is a bit more complicated."
"And how so, my love?"
"Pere thought I was going to marry Drausin D'Estrehan. He all but had the invitations sent out."
Andre's lips set in a grim line at the mention of the handsome lawyer's name. "And we shall see Monsieur Trosclair together and tell him of our plans. His blessing would be nice but his permission is not needed."

Caesaire sighed and rolled over taking most of the blankets with her. Andre reached over and took a portion of it back and gently touched her shoulder.
"Cher, it won't be so bad. After all, when we return to New Orleans, we shall implement a new regime. France will take back what is rightfully hers."
She gave him a smile and put her arms around him.
"And you shall put Governor Claiborne in his place. Back to Virginia for him! I do like the sound of it. Governor Beaudouin!"
He laughed and said, "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, cher! A few things must be in place first."
"And then, my love?"
"You may start sending out the invitations to the wedding,"
She yawned and said, "It will be easy."
"I have no doubt."
"Oui. I just scratch out 'Drausin D'Estrehan' and add 'Andre Beaudouin.'"
The shocked look on his face was enough to send her into peals of laughter.
"You wil be the death of me, Mademoiselle Trosclair! But I shall die with a smile on my face!"
She curled up next to him and pulled the blankets up over them. "And tomorrow will be one day closer to home for us."
"Caesaire?"
But there was no reply. She was fast asleep. He rose up and checked the lock on the balcony.
No sense taking any chances. After all, it could have been Caesaire the men wanted and nothing to do with Jean Lafitte or the taking of Count Eladio's ship.
Still, one couldn't be too careful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drausin D'Estrehan left the inn and walked quickly down the street. His blood boiled when he thought of Caesaire lying in Andre Beaudouin's arms. A place that she had previously occupied had been in his arms. He thought back to the barbeque and the ball that night where he had first laid eyes on Sebastian Trosclair's cousin.
Mademoiselle Caesaire Trosclair.

Caesaire had been escorted to the barbeque by Sebastian. Drausin had watched her covertly as she had a growing contingent of River lads vying for her attention. And it was then and there that he decided he had to have her.
Have her? More like possess her.
She wore a simple dress of silk, the colour of butter which set her creamy skin glowing. Her abundant golden curls were caught back but tendrils escaped that framed her face that she shielded with a white lace parasol.
That night at the ball, she entered on Sebastian's arm. Her dress had been changed to one of royal blue satin trimmed with silver. He hair laid loose around her shoulders and her laughter was unlike any he had ever heard before.
Drausin bowed deeply to her. He remembered his exact words to her--
'Mademoiselle Trosclair, you take my breath away."
Caesaire held he hand out to his and he kissed it. She gave him a dimpled smile and said, "Purloining is what I do best, Monsieur Trosclair."
From that night on, he was enchanted. And when Caesaire came to him warm and willing in the darkness of their courtyard.....

"Oof! Pardonnez-moi, Mademoiselle!"
He caught the arms of a red-haired woman with brilliant green eyes that shone with unshed tears.
"Excusez-moi, Monsieur."
She hastily pulled away and continued on her way down the brick lane. Drausin stared after her, then shook his head and continued to the nearest tavern.

Marie Juliana arrived at her destination. It was a dark cottage on the edge of town, the curtains drawn and the smell of herbs filling her nostrils. She cautiously opened the door.
"Entrez-vous." the voice came from the darkness within.
"Where are you?"
The candlelight cast shadows on the wall.
In the glow of the flames, a woman came forth. She was dusky-hued and dressed in a tignon and a colourful gown of cinnabar. Her smile was benevolent but there was a hint she could change her mood in a bat of an eye.
Marie Juliana took a deep breath and whispered, "I want to employ you."
"And what is it that you want?"
"A love potion. Or charms. Whatever it takes."
The Jamaican woman nodded. "And there is more you want."
Marie Juliana tilted her head up. "And something for a curse."

[Blackjack Roberts]

Benjamin le Renard walked jauntily up Gentilly Avenue. Every thing was going according to plan, some things even better than he had hoped for. Enlisting the aid of Jean Lafitte had been child's play. It was so much easier to get others to do what you wished them to once you knew their weakness. The pirate wanted nothing more than respectability and the destruction of his rival. By offering him both Renard had placed two of the most feared men in New Orleans at his beck and call. Though neither of them realized it.

Strangely enough the Achilles heel of them both centered around the same woman. Caesaire Trosclair. He chuckled to himself as he made his way down the street. A fascinating woman to be certain, he'd had the pleasure of meeting her a few times at one or two of Christophe's soirees. Though at the time a mere slip of a girl, who was rumored to be involved with Lafitte, he had dismissed her as naught more than a rebellious child intent on righting some imagined wrong upon her father. Now he wondered if he had been mistaken.

He had sent Rousseau with twelve of his finest to acquire her, then as an added bonus that fool D'Estrehan volunteered to accompany them as a nursemaid. The thought increased the smile on his lips as he tipped his hat to a passing lady. Drausin had his uses, but Benjamin had no illusions as to why the lawyer was so eager to serve. The same reason that placed Andre and Jean at Renard's mercy. A woman of such obvious talents may well prove worthwhile in acquiring for himself. Once she was safely within his control.

Arriving at the door of the townhouse he raised his walking stick and rapped lightly on the bottom of the plate to the door knocker. Within a few moments a servant opened the whitewashed panel wide.

"Oui, Monsieur?" The butler queried.

"Please inform Monsieur Trosclair that Benjamin le Renard is here to see him." He replied with his best serpentine grin.




To describe Count Manuel-Alfonso Elaido's reaction to the news of the lost treasure as a fit of anger would be akin to describing a full blown hurricane as a summer storm. Juan Carlos, former captain of El Pata del Tigre fairly shook with fear as the tall nobleman sent articles of the study flying in all directions simply because they happened to be in his way at the time. Visions of the torture and execution that surely awaited him grew within his imagination.

He and the remainder of his crew had the fortune of being spied and rescued by another Spanish vessel, a cargo ship, headed for Spain with a near full hold of exotic spice. At least it had seemed like fortune had smiled upon them until the shore of Spain came into view and the reality of his duty had set in on him. The string of ungentle curses that filled the room only confirming his dread.

Finally the noble stopped long enough to pass a rage trembling hand over his head, smoothing the disheveled coal black hair back into place. His gaze fixed steadily at the kneeling Juan.

"Baboso!" He spat. "How could you let a life's time of wealth slip through your fingers like that?!!"

Captain Juan Carlos dropped three shades of color before stammering a shaky reply. "Por favor, Count Elaido!! It was not my fault! I merely......."

"You merely were thinking from below your waist, Cabron!!" Elaido exploded once again. "Have you any idea at what your incompetence has cost me??!!! No, you do not! By all rights I should see you and your entire family executed!!"

At the threat Juan Carlos fell forward onto his face before his raging master, the quaking of his body quite visible now. "Por favor!!! Por favor!!! I beg you do not do this to my family!!! Do as you wish with me!! I am to blame, not they!!!"

Count Manuel Elaido gazed with some measure of satisfaction at his terrorized subordinate. The truth was there was little he could do publicly without attracting the attention of King Joseph. The treasure would have fetched triple what he had paid for it and set his plans into motion. Now, thanks to this fool he was all but bankrupt and no closer to his goal. As much as he would have liked to punish this idiot for costing him so dearly, he dared not.

"I shall do with you as I wish, Juan Carlos." He said in a more temperate manner. "You are going to help me reclaim what you lost, or I swear you will see your family executed before your eyes and I will see to it that you carry that memory for the rest of your miserable life!"




"Ah, Monsieur Renard!" Christophe Trosclair Came into the foyer without waiting for his guest to be brought to him, extending his hand before the gentleman had yet handed his outer coat to the waiting butler. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?"

"Christophe!" The younger man smiled warmly. "It has been too long, Mon Ami." Benjamin shook the offered hand warmly.

"To be honest, I have come to see you on a most important mission." Renard laid his trap carefully. "After all these years I have finally decided the time has come for me to settle down. I have come to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."

[Welsh Wench]

Christophe was taken aback by the proposal just made to him.  He was pleased beyond belief and a bit baffled about the men who suddenly wanted his daughter as a wife. Caesaire had never shown a tendency to the domestic arts, much to his dismay.  How much better it would have been if she had been adept at handling a dinner party for sixty instead of captaining a ship from Barataria to Baton Rouge.

While not a pirate per se, Christophe considered her more of a 'privateer with a penchant for delivering silks and finery to the ladies of New Orleans.
He coughed slightly and said, "Please, Benjamin, let us sit down and discuss your proposal. You will have a cognac, oui?"
Benjamin sat in the overstuffed chair and lit his thin cigar.  He inhaled deeply and his gaze landed on a portrait above the fireplace mantel.  It was a portrait of woman the age of twenty. She had brilliant blue eyes and a thick mane of blonde hair curled and swept up. Her face was thin and delicate, showing a full, determined mouth and a defiant tilt to her chin.

Christophe's eyes followed to where Benjamin's eyes rested.  He said softly, "That was my beloved Clothilde. The fever took her when Caesaire was four."
Benjamin exhaled his smoke in rings. "A very beautiful woman. Your daughter looks just like her."
Christophe nodded.  "Sometimes it almost pains me to look at her, how much like her mother she is. But Caesaire is a headstrong, young woman.  She would need reining in and properly broken like a colt."
Renard nodded. "Christophe, I have observed your daughter from afar. What I mean is, we have frequented the same soirees and balls.  And I am attracted to her. The love will come later. But that is the embers after a conflagration, oui?"
Christophe nodded. "It is the way of the Creoles. Caesaire never did have her 'coming out' at Theatre d'Orleans. With her mother being deceased....."
Renard inhaled his cigar deeply. "Let us be honest, Christophe. She should have had her coming out affair when she turned eighteen. How old is Caesaire now? Twenty-one?"
"Twenty-two."
"Yes. Twenty-two.  If she is not married by twenty-five, she will be considered an old spinster. And we know that she was keeping company with Jean Lafitte when she was seventeen.  She was his mistress, in fact."
Christophe felt the shame that Caesaire had brought on the Trosclair name cause his face to redden.
Renard picked up his gloves and put them on.
"I am willing to overlook the fact that Caesaire had gone astray. In fact, it most likely has added to her allure. We shall be in touch, yes?"
Christophe nodded. "Oui, Benjamin. I think we can work out a negotiation of Caesaire's dowry."
Renard tipped his hat. "Then I shall be in touch very soon. Adieu, Christophe."

Benjamin walked down the street, his steps lively. His plans were all falling into place.  He would possess body and soul of the gem that Andre Beaudouin prized more than all the plunder he had taken.  He would own the woman that had spurned Jean Lafitte, a woman he still moved heaven and earth for to regain.
And the Trosclair name would open doors to the elite Creole Society.  No matter what Caesaire Trosclair had to say, she would eventually let her head rule her heart.  A political future with Benjamin le Renard would win out over love and passion.
It always had before.
Benjamin walked quickly towards a cottage on Frenchmen Street, adorned with windowboxes filled with pansies.
And the waiting arms of a dusky beauty named Claire.

Isabelle Trosclair sat across the small table from her brother in law. He had a thoughtful look on his face alternating with a smile of success.
She raised her eyebrow.
"Christophe? That look on your face--I am not sure if I like it or not."
"Hmm? Oh.  I had a visitor today."
"And?"
"Benjamin le Renard. He came here to formally ask for Caesaire's hand in marriage."
"Mon Dieu! I hope you turned him away."
"Not exactly."
"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?"
"We are negotiating the terms of Caesaire's dowry."
Isabelle stared incredulous at her husband's brother.
"Now I know you have definitely gone 'round the bend, like the Americans say.  Your mind is as twisted as the River!"
"It's a good match."
"It's a disastrous match and you know it! She's in love with Andre Beaudouin and she is with him right now."
Christophe waved his hand. "Simple lust. She will get over that. Infernos flare fast and die quick. A much better match is Renard. He has political connections and inspirations. Who knows, Isabelle? Perhaps a Trosclair standing by the side of a governor. And after that....?"
"Have you no regard for what Caesaire wants?"
"Caesaire will see reason. When she comes home, she will have time to let Andre Beaudouin down easily. With Benjamin asking for her hand, he will be free to take her out but of course she will have to have a chaperone."
"And what do you intend to do, wrap her up in Clothilde's wedding dress and present her as a gift for Benjamn le Renard?"
Christophe grew defiant. "If I need to."
"Sebastian doesn't like him."
"Sebastian doesn't have to. Sebastian is not marrying him."
"And what of Drausin D'Estrehan?  He asked for her hand in marriage and I heard you had given your permission and blessing."
"That was before a better match came along. Drausin has no signed contract de marriage so he will have to bow gracefully to Benjamin."

Isabelle stood up and put her hands on her hips.
"You have done a few things in your daughter's life, Christophe. But this one takes the cake. She is not chattel to be used to advance the Trosclairs into society beyond our heritage. Have you no regard for her feelings? What she wants? Who she wants?"
Christophe mused, "Do you think she will want to wear her mother's wedding gown? Or shall we order a new one from Paris?"
Isabelle threw her napkin down.
"You haven't heard a word I said."
"Hmm?"

She picked up her shawl and left without a word.

[Blackjack Roberts]

As was his wont, Andre leaned onto the aft rail of Le Faucon de Mer idly watching the churned waters of their passing. His only motion was to remove the black tobacco cigar from his lips long enough to flick the ashes into the foam below as he thought. Le Faucon's holds were filled with the remainder of the booty they had not yet sold, as well as their share of the profits, minus the amounts paid out to the crew while they were in Jamaica.

Uncharacteristically, Jacquie had insisted on joining them on the trip back to New Orleans, leaving orders for her own crew to finish with the sale of her remaining half of the unsold treasure while she was gone. Only Marie accompanied her and it seemed to Andre that the arraignment had not been Jacquie's idea. Normally they would have parted ways once the spoils had been split, but if captain Villard wished to vacation in New Orleans, who was he to deny a friend passage?

All of this was no more than passing thoughts compared to what truly troubled his peace of mind. The attack upon them at the Three Crowns. It was more than a little disturbing to him that they had seemed well prepared to spirit Caesaire away. Had they kept to their original plan to dine alone that night he had little doubt she would now be in the hands of the kidnappers, and he quite possibly dead. Only the last minute addition of Jacquie and Francois had evened the odds.

Andre could smell the stench of Lafitte all over the attempt. Who else but he would have both the reason and the resources to attempt such a thing? Who else but he would have dared? This animosity between them seemed to grow with each passing encounter. Soon there would have to be an end to it. A final confrontation. As soon as he and Caesaire were wed he resolved to finish this thing once and for all.

"Problems, Captain?" The voice of Garnier DePaul brought a half smile to Andre's lips as the elder pirate crossed his arms on the rail beside him, staring out at the retreating horizon as well. "After so successful a venture I would think the last thing you would be doing is brooding at the rear of the ship."

"Brooding, Mon père?" The captain of Le Faucon turned slightly to regard his father and friend. "And what would give you the idea I was doing the brooding?" He said a bit too cheerily.

"Because there are the times when you are quite predictable, Mon fils." Garnier chuckled. "From the time you signed aboard the Hazard this is where you could be found if you were troubled. That is how I knew you were up to something the day you took Le Faucon de Mer for your own."

Andre shook his head slightly. "I will have to unlearn some habits then." He joked.

"Perhaps." DePaul smiled back at his son. "Some habits are worth keeping. So what has your mind so occupied? Troubles with Caesaire?"

"Non." Andre looked Garnier in the eye. "In many way the same source that had occupied me then. Lafitte."



"I trust all is in readiness, Captain Carlos?" Count Manuel-Alfonso Elaido stepped aboard the Lady of Spain's deck without waiting for, nor asking permission to come aboard.

Captain Juan Carlos bit back his anger at the showing of disrespect and answered civilly. "Si, Count Elaido. We are ready to set sail with the tide. You will have plenty of time to inspect the men and return home before we leave."

"Leave?" The Count turned a sharp eye in the captain's direction. A dazzling white grin belieing the stern gaze. "Who said anything about leaving, Captain? Do you think I would trust the recovery of my property to your bungling a second time? No. I think not."

Juan Carlos reddened beneath his tanned skin as the Count continued. "My things have already been placed in your former cabin. I shall retire there and await our departure." Leaning close to the frustrated captain Elaido hissed lowly so that only he could hear. "Fail me this time, captain Carlos, and I assure you I shall return to Spain alone to deal with your family."

Daggers of hatred stabbed at the nobleman's back as he strode away towards his cabin, several servants in his wake. At that moment Juan Carlos would have paid a king's ransom to kill the man. Turning to his crew his rage nearly broke at the half hidden smiles brought on by his humiliation.

"What are you idiotas staring at?!! Make ready the ship!! And the next smile I see will earn the wearer fifty lashes!! We sail for New Orleans within the hour!



"Then why are we not following them?" Drausin D'Estrehan cocked his head slightly to one side, gazing at the rapidly shrinking ship headed for the horizon. "Surely if you plan on fulfilling your duty out to sea it would be better not to let Le Faucon de Mer out of sight."

"Said the land lover to the seaman." Jean-Pierre Rousseau grinned vilely. "Beaudouin is no fool. He would spot someone following him for miles. Non, Monsieur D'Estrehan. He will sail straight for New Orleans. Whether or not he makes it is another matter entirely."

Rousseau's low chuckle was so evil that the New Orleans lawyer shivered involuntarily as the man turned to his waiting crew. "Make ready the sail! I want us underway as soon as Le Faucon is out of sight!

[Welsh Wench]

Caesaire came quietly up the deck. Andre was in quiet conversation with Garnier. She looked covertly at both of them. Something about the two of them....so similar.
She shook her head. It must be a coincidence....

She approached them. "Bon jour, Garnier."
He smiled at her with affection and returned her greeting. "It is a good day for fetching fair winds, Mademoiselle."
She breathed deeply the sea air and stood behind Andre and gave him a hug. Resting her head against his back, she closed her eyes.
"I have never been so happy as to put Jamaica to our rudder, mon cher."
Andre reached behind him and patted her head. "Moi aussi, my love."

She looked over at Garnier and smiled, "Surely you should be glad to be back in the colonies, Garnier? Perhaps to see your loved ones?"
Garnier gave her a small smile that Caesaire perceived as a momentary stab of pain.
"The sea has been my love for so long, cher, that no woman can compare. And we all know the sea is a jealous mistress. So I remain true to her."
"Where do you call home, Garnier?"
"Of late, here there and everywhere. But originally I hail from Mobile."
"I am surprised. I would have thought you were from New Orleans. You have the look of a Creole."
He laughed. "I did spend a bit of time there about twenty-eight years ago. It was a glorious summer."
She gave him a teasing smile. "I do believe there is a romantic story there, Garnier."
He looked out over the waves. "There was. But she is gone from my life."
"Gone? Did she die?"
Garnier did not glance over to Andre. "She married another who loved her, Caesaire."
Caesaire reached out and touched his hand. "I am so sorry, Garnier. Perhaps the woman never forgot you."
He laughed ruefully. "You are quite the romantic, Caesaire."
She reached over and stroked Andre's cheek. "I just want the world to be as happy as Andre and I are. And as soon as we are in New Orleans, Andre and I will go see Pere and tell him of our intentions to wed. And he will have to pay for a wedding the likes of which New Orleans has never seen before!"

Garnier smiled broadly at Andre. "It seems your future is sewn up, mon fils."
"You will be at the wedding, oui? It would make Andre and my happiness complete."
He patted Andre on the back and said, "I would not miss it for the world, Caesaire."
He walked back down to the lower deck.

Caesaire slid Andre's arm around her. "He loves you like a son, Andre."
Andre looked off to the sea. "He was my mentor when I was on the Hazard. He took me under his wing and showed me how to be the best I could be.  And how to be a man. "
She kissed her fingertip and placed in on Andre's lips.
"Please don't be so solemn, my darling. We are headed home. Home, Andre! Where we shall be wed and no one shall ever part us."
He chuckled and held her close. "You are set on a big wedding, oui?"
"Oui! Tante Isabelle will be delighted. She loves you like a son, you know. And Sebastian, well.....he will be overjoyed to have you truly as a brother of sorts."
"And your father?"
"Leave me to Pere. He will see reason."
"What of Drausin D'Estrehan, Caesaire?"
"Andre, Drausin is of no consequence. I want you to know one thing."
"And that is?"
She looked into his eyes and held his face in her hands. "I never told him 'Je'taime.' I have never--EVER--said those words to any man. You were the only man for me. There is only one problem."
"And that is?"
"We shall probably be in the same social situations. Sebastian is going to ask Drausin for Solange's hand in marriage since their father has passed away."
Andre chuckled. "So D'Estrehan can look at you as a relative, oui?"
She smiled. "I am sure we shall not see each other very often, Andre. I am now a retired privateer."
"If you want to get technical, mon amour, you are a pirate!"
She took off his cavalier hat and placed it on her own head. He tilted it back from her face, his hazel eyes warm with love for her.
He kissed her tenderly and said, "I cannot wait to stand before Pere Antoine and the whole city of Nouvelle d'Orleans and make you my own."

As they were about to kiss again, they heard the sound of a voice clearing behind them. They separated and looked behind them to see Jacquie and Marie. Jacquie's eyes were filled with pain but Marie's held a smug triumph.
Andre smiled, "Ah, bonjour, Captain Villard. I trust you slept well."
Jacquie recovered quickly and said a bit too brightly, "That I did, Andre. And a bon jour to you, Caesaire. You slept well, too?"
Caesaire nodded and gave her a warm smile. "Oui, Jacquie. But who could not when I slept beside mon amour?"
With that, she patted Andre on the arm and whispered, "I shall be in our quarters, love. "

Andre watched her go, a smile on his face. He then turned his attention to the two women.
"We shall be in port in a week if all goes well, Jacquie."
She nodded. "And will we be able to auction off the rest of the unsold treasure?"
"Mon ami Pierre Maspero will let me use his auction house over on Chartres Street. A good sort, Pierre. Although he deals in human flesh. He manages to keep Jean and Pierre Lafitte close to him. Sometimes that is where they do their orders for their smuggling. When they are not hanging their goods on the iron fence of the cathedral. Mon Dieu! The parishioners would leave the Sunday mass and then buy his goods in the alley. But he manages to fill the church's coffers so Pere Antoine is good with that."
Jacquie nodded. "That is good that Maspero will let  you use the exchange. Although I do not approve of his business."
Andre felt his face colour. He had forgotten that Jacquie's mother had once been a slave.
"Forgive me, Jacquie. I didn't mean...."
She waved her hand. "Maman is not a slave, Andre. She is a free woman of colour now. And she manages my estate so she is as free as anyone."
Marie wrapped her arm around Jacquie.
"And we should be going to eat, yes, Jacquie?"
Jacquie looked at Andre. How handsome he was. But she knew that she could never compete against the woman who he loved with all his heart. How hard to compete against a ghost who was a flesh and blood woman and had reentered his life.
Marie and Jacquie left.
Andre couldn't be sure. But was there a touch of malice in the look Marie shot back at him?
No matter. He would soon be home.

He relit his black tobacco cigar and gazed over the churning water. Would Marie be accepting of Garnier at the wedding? He sighed heavily.
He wasn't looking forward to confessing their sins to Pere Antoine. The priest who had baptized both him and Caesaire.
Sacre bleu, he baptized half of New Orleans.
Flicking the ash into the waves, he raised his face to the sun.
'Just get us to New Orleans with no problems, mon Dieu. That is all I ask.'
He turned and walked to his cabin where his bride to be awaited.
He smiled to himself.
'And who knows what surprises she has waiting for me!'

[Blackjack Roberts]

Andre flipped the stub of the cigar out into the blue gray waters. Filling his lungs with the fresh salt air, he happily released it in a rush. So far everything had come off with only a few rough spots and those had been handled as they occurred. It was useless to dwell on the inevitable any longer. C'est la vie! Once Le Faucon de Mer made port there would be little Lafitte could do to stop him. He would see his hardest won dream realized at last and then he would turn his attention to his former employer.

The sun was near to setting, and it's orange glow brought a thought to his mind. Raising one bejeweled hand he motioned for Etienne. After a few parting instructions to the pirate he had been speaking with de Marigny leisurely strolled up to his friend and captain.

"Ah, I know that look in your eye well, Mon ami." Etienne grinned beneath his moustache. "You have an idea, No?"

"Oui, Ami, oui." Andre clapped his First Mate on the shoulder warmly. "Tell me, are any of our musicians on duty at the moment?"



Jean Lafitte looked down at the letter on his desk, still hardly believing that the hand which wrote it was his. A formal apology to Andre and an offer to bury the animosity between them. Were it not for the standing offer from Renard the thought of pardoning the hurt of the Creole swashbuckler's betrayal of him would never have crossed his mind. He had given the boy everything! Had even gone as far as to consider making him his second in command! Only to find the former street urchin as unreliable and back stabbing as a treacherous Spaniard!

Jean squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a moment. He had suffered betrayal before, at the hands of many who he cared nothing for, but with Andre it was different. The French pirate had come to think of him as a son. A son he himself secretly longed for, yet had neither the luck, nor the time to acquire. That is what drove his rage. With a single act of mutiny Andre Beaudouin had broke his heart.

Lafitte poured himself a tankard of pure rum as unbidden memories flooded in upon him. When the news of the theft of Le Faucon de Mer reached his ears he promptly floored the messenger with a solid fist to the man's jaw.

"How dare you accuse Andre of such a thing?!" He bellowed. "I would trust Andre above even my own brother! Never would he steal from me!! I should cut your libeling tongue out myself!!"

The pirate cowered on the floor, one hand raised before him in supplication. "I swear it is the truth, Mon commander!"

"Then why has Garnier not brought this news to me, EH?!" Jean all but foamed. "Were such an unthinkable thing to have happened, he would have been the first to come to me!"

"I-I do not know! Captain Garnier has been acting strange ever since the mutiny! He has been drunk every day as we sailed back, muttering to himself, giving orders to Andre even after they left, as if the quartermaster were still aboard."

Lafitte sat back down at his mahogany desk. "Go!" He barked. "Find Garnier and bring him here. Carry him if you must, but I want to see him within the hour!"

The look in Garnier's rum laden eyes had told him all he needed to know before the man had even mumbled out his apology for losing the prize. Lafitte had taken it all in shock. After the drunken captain left he unlocked the center drawer of the very same desk he sat at now, taken the documents he'd had drawn up a few days before, making Andre an equal partner in all his enterprises and threw them into the fireplace.

How could Andre turn on him like this? The man could have just left, taken a job on another pirate ship. Had he asked Jean would have probably even sold the ship to him and they would have parted friends. It was a big ocean after all. But to betray him like this?!! It was unforgivable!!



Caesaire looked up at the door to her and Andre's cabin puzzled. Lost in the list she was writing for her and Andre's special day the last thing she had expected to hear on board was the sound of music.

The door opened wide and several of the crew entered with trays that steamed and filled the room with the smell of finely cooked food. Smiling Andre followed in their wake, pausing only to hang his hat on one of the wood pegs beside the door. The entourage quickly set the table, lit the two candles in the center, then bowed to her as they filed from the room. Andre gently shut the door and Caesaire was surprised again to find the sound of tender, floating notes continued to flow from the hall outside. He crossed over to the table, and drew her chair back. With a slight bow and a low sweeping motion of his ringed hand he grinned like a cat.

"Mademoiselle Trosclair?" He smiled.

Caesaire rose from the desk and glided over to the offered seat. "Merci Monsieur Beaudouin."

Andre picked up a linen napkin and flipped it over his left forearm. "And now, Mademoiselle. Might I suggest the bifteck de le champignon? I hear it is excellent."

Caesaire giggled at the false formality in her lover's voice. "Mais oui, garçon. That would be fine, but I notice there is no desert."

Andre leaned close to her ear from behind the chair. "That, Mademoiselle, is the special treat......and the reason the musicians play their music on the other side of the door." He whispered tenderly.