Chapter 48

P IERRE HADN'T AGED WELL in the three years since she'd last seen him. His black beard was still just as matted as before, but there was now a lot of gray streaking through his shoulder-length hair. However, it was the deep lines in his face that made him look so much older now. The life he led, the things he'd done were taking their toll on his appearance. In fact he was extremely thin now, almost emaciated. It made her think she wouldn't be completely helpless in his hands. She could fight him. She might even win. But on the way to his fortress wasn't the time to try, with his men all around them.

He said nothing to her other than the single chilling remark rasped in her ear, "I have wonderful plans for you, chérie. "

She couldn't think about that. If she did she'd become so paralyzed by fear that she might as well lie down and die. Instead she noted every little thing around her and on the way, like they seemed to be tossing any of the men that were still alive into the hold to deal with later, including Richard and Timothy. Like the thick overgrowth in the middle of the island that made it nearly impassable. Like the hidden door in the back wall when they reached the fortress, which was carelessly left unlocked.

They were all too elated with their victory to think of taking precautions now. She counted how many candles there were in the short passage from there to the main hall. The door through which they entered the hall was also concealed behind an easily movable cabinet, and when in place, it gave no indication a secret passage was behind it.

It was telling that they didn't care she knew this. Obviously, neither Pierre, nor any of his men, ever expected her to leave that island again.

As Gabrielle looked around the large, barracks-like hall, she noticed two means of escape. One was a wide doorway, open now, which led to a large courtyard. The courtyard was enclosed by high walls. Bixley's drawing had been accurate in that respect. It was too bad he hadn't known about that secret door.

The other means of escape was an open, narrow stairway that led up to a second floor, possibly living quarters where the officers of the fortress used to reside. As it was such an old fortress that had merely been refurbished and not completely renovated, Gabrielle guessed that the kitchens were out in the courtyard, not connected to the main building, and the entrance to the dungeons was probably out there as well.

She saw all of this at a glance since she was led, or rather dragged, straight through the hall and upstairs by Pierre. The bedroom they entered was probably his, filthy, cluttered with mismatched furniture, the bed unmade, dirty dishes on a small table. That he didn't close the door when he pulled her in there was her only hope for the moment. It indicated he might not be staying.

She yanked her hand loose easily enough. She hadn't even tried to do so before now. A little more hope. Maybe he was as weak as he looked. He wasn't even very tall. She'd forgotten that, or maybe she never noticed before because she'd never met men as tall as…

She couldn't think about Drew yet, didn't dare ask what had happened to him. If he was dead, she was afraid she'd just give up and not care what happened to her. All concentration and reason would be lost, and she needed all of her wits to survive this.

She moved away from Pierre. It didn't work; he followed her closely, keeping her within reach.

"I don't suppose you want the maps?" she asked, turning around to face him.

"Maps?" He chuckled. "I knew you would be amusing. No, you know why you are here."

She did; it just would have been so nice to be wrong. "Are you going to let my father and the others go now?"

"When you tried to cheat me?" he said with a tsk. "I should kill them all."

She paled, almost lost her balance, her legs turned so weak. But he laughed.

"Certainly I will release them. Do you think I would waste food on them when I do not have to?"

"You're lying."

"You wound me, Gabrielle. Why would you think such a thing?"

His grin belied that she was insulting him. "You know they'll try to rescue me. You won't risk—"

"Risk what?" he cut in. "As long as they stay away, you stay alive, this is what they will be told. You think they will risk that? Besides, I will assure your papa that I will only take my fill of you, then you can go." And then he laughed again. "Red, she will not tolerate your presence for more than a few days. She is very jealous."

She was surprised that he would tell her that, but then maybe it wasn't true. She gave him a skeptical look. "Then why have you even bothered with this elaborate scheme to get me here?"

Pierre shrugged. "Because a few days may be enough for me. Or I may decide to get rid of Red and keep you. I have not decided yet. Would you like me to keep you?"

"I'd like you to go to hell."

He laughed yet again. She was definitely amusing him, which wasn't a good thing. She needed to make him not want her around, not give him reasons to keep her.

He raised a hand to touch her. She immediately slapped it away, but he was quick and caught her wrist instead. And this time when she tried to yank it away, he proved he was stronger than he appeared.

"Do not mistake your position," he said coldly. "Your papa, he is not gone yet."

"May I see him?"

"No."

"How do I know he's still alive?"

He shrugged and let go of her wrist. "You do not. However, since I had no reason to kill him, you may assume he is. But shall we put it to the test, just how much you want him to leave—unharmed? Remove your clothes. This room is warm, you will not need them here."

She was paralyzed for a moment. She'd worn one of her thinner island skirts and a thin blouse for the trip, a matching pair that could have been mistaken for a dress. But with only bloomers and a chemise under them, it wasn't going to take her long to remove them. The door being open had misled her into thinking he wasn't going to touch her yet, that she still might have time to escape. She glanced at it. He did as well. His laughter returned.

"No, no," he said. "Chasing after wenches is one thing I will not do. If you run, I will have every last man in my dungeon killed."

She stiffened. He said that with a bloody smile on his lips, as if he were savoring the thought.

"I will be back shortly," Pierre growled as he moved to the door. "Be in that bed waiting for me, or I will have your papa brought here and flogged before your eyes."