Bell of the Mist Read online

  Disclaimers: Here we go again with these slightly tilted bad history lessons, so if you want to stick to the facts I suggest a Louisiana Civics class. Some of the characters are of my own creation and some I borrowed from the Civics class I took in the ninth grade, but hey he was an outlaw himself so fair is fair. If you decide to sue though know that I am a poor person not worth you time and effort.

  Now for the sex part, if you find that a relationship between two women distasteful try eating Halloween candy it does wonders for that. But seriously if you are underage and live someplace where that is not allowed move on, literally.

  Sit back and enjoy the story and if you have something wonderful to say about it write to me at [email protected].

  I want to thank my betas for correcting this for me. Jaden and Deanie you are both godsends, thanks for making me sound so good.

  This one is dedicated to every person that has sent me all those wonderful words of encouragement since the first story I posted. Thanks for taking these journeys with me and for letting me know how much you like them.

  Bell of the Mist

  by

  Ali Vali

  The small blonde walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. At the stove, an older woman stirred a pot of shrimp gumbo that had been simmering for hours.

  "All squared away sweetie?" asked Mona looking up from her task. The experienced cook tapped the wooden spoon in her hand on the rim of the pot and turned off the low flame under it.

  "I guess, but I wish Harry had explained exactly what our costumes are supposed to be. The theme of the LeFleur Halloween party this year is "Legends", but unless Elvis wore some knee high boots in one of his concerts in Vegas, I don’t have a clue as to what legend we are going as," answered Desi.

  After moving in with her lover, Dr. Harry Basantes three months prior, Desi enjoyed spending her afternoons with Harry’s long time housekeeper, Mona. The feisty woman had kept Harry in line for years as well as making sure that the orthopedic surgeon took care of herself.

  "This is done cooking for now, so how about you and me go up and see what the big trouble maker brought home with her. What time do you expect Harry to be home?" asked Mona taking the large pot off the hot burner. Mona was glad to see Harry starting to join the world of the living after getting Desi back into her life, and the party the two were going to the next evening was going to be their first official social outing since getting back together.

  "They just started a knee replacement about thirty minutes ago, so she should be home around seven," said Desi talking about Harry’s surgical team. She looped her arm around Mona’s and dragged the cook out of the kitchen. "Come on Mona let’s go upstairs, sit outside and have a drink."

  The two women made their way up to the large master suite that Harry and Desi shared and stopped in front of the two garment bags that Harry had left there that morning before heading out to the hospital. When Mona unzipped the one that was meant for the tall surgeon to wear, she smiled and knew instantly who Harry and Desi were going to dress as. Having worked for the Basantes family since Harry and her brother were children, Mona had taken great pleasure in telling them about some of New Orleans’ more famous citizens and some of their infamous deeds.

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  The muddy road was littered with water filled ruts that were well disguised in the fog coming off of the Mississippi River. The coachman moved the six horse hitch slowly forward, not wanting to take the chance of either overturning or losing a wheel, either of which would strand he and his passengers in the middle of nowhere for the night. To his left, the small lantern was throwing off enough light to see about fifteen feet in front of him, which was why he didn’t see the man sitting on his horse in the middle of the road until the last possible moment. When the driver pulled back forcefully on the reins the coach skidded a little to the left coming precariously close to falling down the embankment.

  "Whoa, driver. Don’t you know that these are dangerous roads to travel at night? God only knows who you will encounter in your journeys," the deep voice rumbled from in front of him. With the fog and no moon, all William the driver could make out was the knee high black boots that seemed to throw off their own light, they were so well polished and taken care of. When the man rode closer all the driver could concentrate on was the pistol pointed at his head. He looked up when the man spoke to him again and for his own self-preservation he put up his hands. "If I’m not mistaken, you should have the gold deposit for the bank somewhere along with the luggage you are carrying. Be a good boy and go up there and find it for me."

  The black mask that covered his face and his polite manner told William that this could only be the robber known as The Land Pirate. Others had mistaken his politeness for weakness and found themselves bleeding from the forehead from the always accurate shots the man discharged from the two pistols he carried. For William it was an easy decision; the bank’s money was not worth his life. In the back of the coach the passengers sat motionless hoping that the thief would be content with the gold and leave them alone. From the roof they could hear the driver throwing down bags until he came to the locked chest and threw that over the side as well. The impact with the ground broke the chest open showing the thief the two-tied money bags inside. "If you please, my good man." William jumped down and hefted up the two bags and placed them in the saddlebags on the large black horse’s flanks.

  Struggling with the bags, William was able to study the thief, wondering what the face behind the mask really looked like? Into the well-oiled boots were tucked tight black pants and there was a black cloak draped over the man’s shoulders as well. The hat he wore was black and in the style the riverboat gamblers liked. The only color the thief wore was the white shirt that peeked out every time he moved in the saddle. "What’s your name, boy?"

  "William, sir," answered the driver as he heaved the bags onto the horse. When he was done the thief motioned for him to get back on the coach. The black horse moved forward and stopped when the rider was even with the back windows. He looked in and studied the passengers he knew were traveling from Napoleonville to New Orleans for the start of the season. Rich planters and their families usually kept a house or an apartment in New Orleans, as well as their large plantations along the river. Leaving the homesteads in the hands of their foremen, the families would go into town for the parties and balls that came after the Christmas holidays.

  The stillness was broken when the robber flashed a handsome smile to the young woman seated between her an older couple. Pressing the end of the pistol into the old man’s head, the man made another polite request. "Would you mind terribly changing seats with the young woman sir?" The man shook his head as sweat poured down his face. Standing up, he moved to sit next to his wife as his niece moved to the window.

  "I seem to have found two treasures tonight," said the deep voice. Pulling off a black leather glove with his teeth, he gently cupped the young woman’s cheek in his palm and leaned in for a kiss. The man was so gentle that the young woman almost moaned when his soft lips met hers. The thief broke the kiss and leaned back on his horse. With the ungloved hand he reached into a small pocket in the top of his pants and pulled out a small velvet bag. "Such beauty and generosity should be rewarded, my dear," he said placing the gift in her hand.

  "William, you done well tonight, boy. The bank lost its deposit, but you will live to drive another day. Thank you and good night. Stay your course and you will find the next town about five miles away." As he flicked the horse to move away, the gentleman robber flipped William a gold coin before disappearing into the mist. Behind him in the coach, the young woman pulled the string on the small pouch and p
oured the contents into her palm. If there had been any doubt to the robber’s identity, this removed them. There in her hand, were two beautiful emerald earrings. The young woman, whose lips were still tingling, would have traded the jewelry for another kiss and another look into the brilliant blue eyes behind the mask.

  Jackson Lafitte stole from the rich but the gifts he left behind were purchased. The law had yet to find any jeweler willing to admit that they furnished the emeralds The Land Pirate gifted to the women he picked out. With each heist the stories and rumors grew as to who this handsome man was. No one had ever seen his face, but his gentle manner and heart stopping kisses were becoming legendary.

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  "Mona who was Jackson Lafitte?" asked Desi. She ran her hand through her hair, in what Mona had come to recognize as an unconscious habit on the young woman’s part. "I’ve never heard of him." They were sitting outside enjoying the cooling temperatures and the stars from the large veranda off the master suite. Between their two chairs sat an open bottle of wine, and being so caught up in the story, neither heard Harry drive up and come into the house. Both Desi and Mona almost spilled their wine when the deep voice from behind them answered the question.

  Harry remembered this story as being one of her favorites Mona had shared with her growing up. Many a night she had been put to sleep dreaming of the adventures of Jackson and what he did with the loot he stole.

  "That’s because you weren’t around when Mona was spinning her tales. Jackson was real and a hero to the slaves in the area back before the Civil War. A modern day Robin Hood if you will, only in the Deep South during the black period that was slavery," answered Harry. Mona smiled at the tall surgeon knowing that she had something to do with the way that Harry perceived people, or didn’t perceive them. To her employer and friend, Harry saw a person and what they were about. Nowhere in the equation did the color of their skin play a factor. If Harry liked you or didn’t like you it was because of who you were and how you treated people.

  Desi jumped up and into the arms she had missed all day. As fascinating as the story Mona had been telling was, the allure of Harry’s lips won out. "Where are Kenneth and the fruitcake?" asked Mona when they came up for air.

  "The fruitcake was about a block behind me and Kenneth is coming in from Mercy in about thirty minutes. That should give me a chance to run and shower before we eat," said Harry, never breaking eye contact with Desi.

  "Good God, girl, I guess if I want you to do anything from now on I’ll have to attach one of them sticky notes to Desi’s forehead for you to see it," grumbled Mona as she moved back into the room. The miffed tone was only in teasing though since Mona couldn’t be happier that Harry had found her one true love and had settled down to a more balanced life. The green eyes that followed the tall brunette around the room were winning the battle of attention for the workaholic surgeon. Harry still worked hard, but now instead of finding more work at the hospital she came home to spend time with Desi.

  "If you need us Mona, we’ll be in the shower," said Harry as her surgical scrub top hit the old woman in the back of the head. The low cursing was drowned out by Desi’s laughter as she followed Harry into the bathroom.

  "She’s just going to put you over her knee one day and spank you. You are aware of this aren’t you?" asked Desi. Harry pulled the sweater the young woman had been wearing over her head and reached behind her to unfasten her bra. Desi returned the favor by pulling the string of the scrub pants watching as they fell to the floor. "I’m already clean you know," Desi commented as she lost more clothes to the agile fingers running along her body. Harry’s agile digits were as talented out of the operating room as they were in.

  "Honey, you can never be too clean," was Harry’s answer. They spent some quality time in the shower just touching and kissing not taking it any further yet, knowing that their guests for dinner would all be there soon. When they were dressed, Harry gave her lover a piggyback ride down the stairs, hearing laughter coming out of the kitchen. "Guess the boys got here ok."

  To set the mood for a nice dinner, Harry built a fire in the fireplace in the kitchen and dimmed the lights. Desi and Tony helped Mona set the table while Kenneth opened another bottle of wine. They sat at the table next to the bay windows and toasted Mona on another pot of her legendary gumbo.

  "Ok so finish telling me about this Jackson Lafitte character, Mona," said Desi. The dinner was slow and relaxed since it was Friday night and neither Harry nor Kenneth were on call and didn’t have to go to work the next day. Both couples were going to the costume party and had been looking forward to it for weeks.

  "I’ll let Harry take over from where I left off. Now that we have Butch, the good doctor has become a better story teller than I ever was," quipped Mona. Harry threw a piece of French bread at her that the housekeeper batted away and laughed.

  "To tell the tale of Jackson, you have to go back to the beginning," started Harry.

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  "Are you going to the Quadroon Ball this year Jean?" asked Philip. The two had sailed together from the time Jean Lafitte had become the rogue pirate famous throughout the Louisiana territory.

  "Of course man. Jewel has spoken of nothing else for three months. She is out getting her final fitting for the gown she’s going to wear," answered Jean. The New Orleans social season was littered with balls and large parties, but this one was the one most enjoyed by the gentleman and ignored by their wives.

  The Quadroon Ball was the one social occasion for the slave mistresses that almost all gentlemen and plantation owners kept. It was their night to shine and forget the miserable existence that was their lives as someone else’s property. Jewel was different than most though. Jean had seen her on the auction block next to the port one day and bought her on a whim. Nursing her back to health, the pirate didn’t treat her like a slave but as someone he was courting. She had the run of his large house in New Orleans, and was given an allowance while he was away at sea.

  In time the small and delicate woman came to love the pirate, and he in return had fallen in love with her. Jean Lafitte would never marry, but Jewel was as close as he would ever come at this point in his life. Because she was colored, Jewel was not allowed to attend the other balls with him, so the Quadroon Ball was something she looked forward to. It was an exquisite feeling for her to be twirled around the ballroom in the arms of the man she loved. Jean was a pirate, but he was a gentleman with impeccable manners and an easy charm. He was tall with black hair that he kept long enough to pull into a ponytail, blue eyes and tan skin from all his time at sea. Despite his profession, the man was considered a worthy catch to any debutante that could capture his attention.

  With a quick check of his pocket watch, Jean paid his bar tab and headed to the dress shop he had dropped Jewel at an hour before. Jean made his way along the wooden sidewalk tipping his hat to the ladies who crossed his path. Through the window of the dress shop he could see Jewel talking to the seamstress about what he assumed were last minute changes.

  Both women looked up when the bell over the door chimed admitting the large strong body of a man. "Ready, cheri?" asked Jean. Jewel in his opinion was aptly named. Small in stature, the woman was beautiful. Her light colored eyes and dark soft hair had a way of stirring his passions like no other woman before her, and the man called The Terror of the Gulf lived to see the young woman smile at him.

  "Whenever you are my love," answered Jewel in flawless French. The only difference between her and the cultured ladies of society was that the law considered her a slave. The two lovers made their way home where Jewel talked Jean into spending the afternoon napping with her. When they woke up from a long afternoon of love making, Jewel’s dress was hanging in the room ready for the ball that night.

  The man at the door announced them when they stepped into the room, and more than one man turned an e
nvious eye on Jean. The low cut blue silk ball gown Jewel had on, accentuated her coloring and showed off her figure like a second skin. Toward the back of the room, a set of brown eyes followed the pair as they greeted friends and drank champagne.

  "Who is that?" asked Henri Lecompte. He couldn’t take his eyes off Jewel and in that instant vowed to have her. Henri was a cruel man who had just taken over the Twelve Oaks Plantation after the death of his father. The over two hundred slaves that worked his property had learned to fear the son more than they had the father. A long bullwhip was always coiled at Henri’s hip, and he never spared his shoulder to inflict punishment.

  "Forget that one Henri, she is Jean Lafitte’s consort, and even though she is his slave he loves her. Beautiful though, isn’t she?"

  "That she is," answered Henri in an almost thoughtful voice. The man standing next to him noticed the glare of his eyes and the malicious smile curling his lips. "For an animal," he added after the man walked away.

  Jean and Jewel danced and enjoyed each other’s company for the rest of the evening unaware of Henri’s constant vigil on them. It would be one of the last pleasant nights that Jewel would enjoy, in what would turn out to be a painfully short life.

  Seeing Jewel standing on the dock waving him goodbye would be the last time Jean Lafitte saw the woman he loved. Had he known she carried his child it might have persuaded him into not sailing that day, and had he done so, Jean would have changed three fates that day.

  Two weeks after Jean set out, four men broke into his home and kidnapped Jewel. The young woman was never seen again and no one had any idea whatever happened to her.

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  "Well, what happened to her?" asked an impatient Desi. The group of friends had moved into the sunroom and another fire after they had finished dinner. Even Kenneth and Tony who had heard the story countless times before sat mesmerized by Harry’s low voice.