Busbee, Shirlee Read online

  Lady Vixen by Shirlee Busbee

  SWEPT FROM INNOCENCE INTO A WHIRLWIND OF TREACHERY, CAPTIVITY, AND ROMANCE...

  Beautiful, headstrong Nicole Ashford was yet untouched by passion, but destined for adventure—and pleasure—beyond anything a woman of her time had ever known.

  Outwitting a ruthless plot against her, she fled her aristocratic English home on a privateer's ship bound for the luxurious pirate havens of New Orleans—and exquisite abandon in Bermuda's hidden coves. Yet the very daring of her escape plunged her into even graver peril, as captive mistress to notorious high seas outlaw, Captain Saber, whose savage passions made her a woman, but whose tender kisses plundered her soul.

  And nothing now could stop what was begun between them—nothing could still the urgent fires of the love they were born to share!

  LADY VIXEN is an original publication of Avon Books. This work has never before appeared in book form.

  AVON BOOKS

  A division of

  The Hearst Corporation

  959 Eighth Avenue

  New York, New York 10019

  Copyright © 1980 by Shirlee Busbee Published by arrangement with the author Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 79-56781 ISBN: 0-380-75382-0

  All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Lenniger Literary Agency, Inc., 437 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10016

  First Avon Printing, March, 1980

  AVON TRADEMARK REG. U.S. PAT. OFF. AND IN OTHER COUNTRIES, MARCA REGISTRADA, HECHO EM U.S.A.

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  This one is for three very special people,

  TOM E. HUFF, who over the months has given me so much encouragement and who told me repeatedly that the second book is the hardest . . . Tom, you're absolutely right!

  HOWARD BUSBEE, my husband, my favorite critic, my favorite proofreader, my favorite fan, and my mainstay.

  And finally, ROSIE, who keeps me on the right track, and drops those little gems of wisdom at precisely the right time.

  PROLOGUE: THE RUNAWAY

  CHAPTER 1

  England, 1808

  It was one of those warm, lazy days in August that occasionally caressed the gentle hills and valleys of Surrey, near the small village of Beddington's Corner. The sunlight was streaming into Nicole Ashford's room, golden strands of gossamer that beckoned irresistibly and yet, for just a few minutes longer, Nicole refused to leave the soft comfort of the feather mattress. She determinedly ignored the urge to arise and meet the day, snuggling deeper into the welcoming pillow and pulling the fine linen sheet further up across her slim body. But sleep eluded her, and with a relaxed sigh, she slowly turned over, lying on her back in the large eyelet-cotton-draped bed. Dreamily, her topaz gaze drifted around the delightful room, unconsciously noting the polished rosewood highboy and the cherry-wood armoire and the jeweled tones of the gaily flowered carpet that covered the floor. Crisp white curtains, trimmed with the same fabric that formed the hangings of her bed, hung at the tall windows; a mahogany chest, filled just now with discarded toys, was underneath one of the windows, and to its left sat an oak rocking chair, the crumpled gown she had worn yesterday thrown carelessly across one arm.

  Seeing the gown reminded her that soon she would have to be up, because today was a special day—today her parents were having a garden party, and she and Giles, her twin brother, were going to be allowed to attend. A garden party might not sound especially exciting to some, but as Nicole was not quite twelve and it was her first grown-up party, her pleasure in the coming day was understandable. Besides, it wasn't often that Annabelle and Adrian Ashford were in residence at Ashland, their country estate, and Nicole treasured the few moments she had with her parents.

  With a sense of happy anticipation, the long hair tumbling about the already-striking features, she flung back the sheets, only to stop abruptly as the door to her room flew open and Giles catapulted into the room.

  "Nicky! Are you still abed, you lazy slug? Hurry and dress, Shadow had her foal last night!" Giles cried, his young voice full of pride and excitement. The topaz eyes so like his sister's were gleaming with tawny sparks, and a lock of dark brown hair fell across his forehead as he entered her room.

  Nicole's own small face suddenly alight with the same blaze of elation, she slipped from the big bed, filling the air with questions. "Oh, why didn't you wake me sooner? Were you there when the foal was born? What color is it? Is it a filly or a colt?"

  Giles laughed. "Give me a chance, chatterbox! No, I wasn't there when it was born, so take that look off your face—I didn't steal the march on you. It is a filly, a beautiful black little girl, just like Shadow and she was born just after midnight. Oh, wait until you see her, Nicky! She is so beautifully formed and so soft, with great brown eyes." His boyish chest swelling with pride, he finished loftily, "Father says she is to be mine!"

  "Oh, Giles! How lucky for you! I am so glad!" Nicole returned with genuine pleasure. She had received her own horse, Maxwell, last year and was truly delighted that now Giles would have his.

  Hurriedly she scrambled into the gown she had worn yesterday. Mentally preparing herself for the strictures she would receive from her maid later, she quickly washed her face and dragged a brush through her tangled mass of curls. A second later the twins raced down the graceful, curving staircase, across the wide, elegant hallway, and then out the massive double doors at the front of the house. It took only a moment for them to leap down the wide steps of the entrance and to disappear around the side of the magnificent country mansion.

  Hand in hand, nearly out of breath, they reached the stables at the rear of the house a few minutes later. On tiptoe, breathing in the pungent smell of warm horse flesh and sweet straw, they approached the large box stall at one end of the sprawling stables. Adrian Ashford, tall and handsome in buff breeches and a slim-fitting coat of blue with silver buttons, was already standing there, as well as the head groom, Mr. Brown. Glancing over his shoulder, Adrian smiled at the children, beckoning them nearer.

  "I see you woke her. Couldn't you wait?" he inquired, a warm smile curling his fine mouth, a teasing glint coming and going in the wide dark eyes.

  "No! Besides, Nicky would have been a spitting fury if I hadn't told her immediately. You know what a pepper pot she is!" Giles answered, his eyes dancing.

  Nicole stuck out her tongue at him and flashed her father a sunny smile, saying demurely, "I am growing up now. Young ladies are not pepper pots!"

  Giles hooted with laughter and both Adrian and Mr. Brown joined in, much to Nicole's discomfort. Taking pity on his daughter, Adrian swung her up in his arms, murmuring in an affectionate tone, "You're getting almost too big for this, my pet. In a year or two, I'll have to remember that you are not my little girl any longer."

  "Oh, Father! I shall always be your little girl!" Nicole promised fiercely as she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, almost convulsively. Her father kissed her on the forehead and set her on the ground. Gently pushing a strand of the shining sable-fire hair behind one of her ears, he said softly, "I'm sure you will sweetheart. But come, let us admire Shadow's lovely little daughter."

  The filly was just as Giles had described her—black, black as ebony, and with great soft curious brown eyes. With a sigh of pure pleasure, not caring about possible damage to her gown, Nicole sank down onto the straw-littered floor, crooning gently, "Oh, you pretty thing! How beautiful you are!"

  Shadow, a long-limbed thoroughbred as black as her foal, nuzzled the spindle-legged small replica of herself, blowing softly through her nostrils, and Nicole laughed. "I think Shadow is very proud of her daughter." Turning the enchantingly lively features up toward her br
other, she asked excitedly, "What are you going to call her?"

  Looking a little self-conscious, Giles muttered, "I thought you would like to name her—you let me name Maxwell."

  "May I? Really, Giles? You'll let me name her for you?"

  "Of course, silly! Who else would I let do it?"

  The topaz eyes shining like precious jewels, Nicole turned back to stare at the foal. Her forehead wrinkled in thought, she said after a few minutes, "I know it isn't very clever, but I like the name Midnight. You said she was born just after midnight and she is certainly black as midnight!"

  "That would be perfect, Nicky!"

  "An excellent choice," commented Adrian. Then pulling Nicole to her feet, he said, "Now I think we have, all lingered here in the stables long enough. Your mother is probably wondering where we have all disappeared to. Don't forget that we have guests arriving in a few hours."

  "As if I would!" Nicole protested.

  Giles shot her a teasing look, murmuring, "Well if that's what you are going to wear and if you're going to leave that mane of yours straggling down your back, it certainly does look as if you have!"

  "Oh, pooh! You know very well I have not! Just you wait until you see me in a little while." And with that she scampered off, the long sable-fire hair waving like a banner behind her.

  And two hours later, as Nicole stood on the broad marble steps leading to the entrance of Ashland, greeting the arriving guests, no one would have connected her with the hoyden who had knelt in the straw of the stable. Standing confidently between her father and Giles, dressed in a most becoming soft muslin gown of buttercup yellow, the lace of her exquisite pantaloons just peeping from beneath the ankle-length skirt, the long hair pulled back into a wealth of gleaming ringlets that cascaded nearly to her waist, Nicole was everything an aristocrat's daughter should be. From the bright yellow ribbon that held her hair back to the little white kid slippers on her feet she was a daughter any man would be proud of. That Adrian Ashford was pleased with both his son and daughter was very apparent in the smiling and encouraging looks that he sent them as they continued to welcome the guests.

  Nicole loved every movement of it. Her only disappointment was that her mother, Annabelle, had decided to greet their friends and neighbors in the gardens rather than on the steps with her husband and children. But it was such a minor flaw in this wonderful day that Nicole shrugged it aside.

  The party was a huge success; the rose-scented gardens were dotted with gaily attired members of England's wealthier class and white-and-gold liveried servants bobbed about offering gigantic trays of temptingly arranged refreshments. Under the stately oaks and spreading chestnuts were dainty white tables and chairs for those who wished to sit in the shade and observe the antics of the others.

  Nicole and Giles, full of icy lemonade and melting cream-cakes, darted from one group to another, enjoying the attention they were receiving. Yet both were very conscious that it was their first grown-up party and consequently they were behaving surprisingly well. Surprisingly, for in the neighborhood everyone knew what mischievous little devils the Ashford twins could be.

  "Not an ounce of evil in either of them," remarked Colonel Eggleston pompously. "But the trouble those two can cause! Did I tell you of the time they caught a fox and put it in Lord Saxon's hen house? And that little Nicole is a harum-scarum scamp, if I ever saw one. Why just last week she climbed to the top of that old walnut tree near our entrance gate! Hardly a young ladylike pursuit!"

  Nicole, approaching the Colonel and Mrs. Eggleston as they were standing and talking with the vicar and his wife, heard that comment, and for one moment she was shaken by a gust of quick anger. The Colonel would have to tell everyone! she thought furiously. Old windbag! But the burst of temper disappeared as quickly as it had come, and with a smiling face, she said, "Good afternoon, Colonel Eggleston, Mrs. Eggleston, Vicar and Mrs. Summerton."

  "How pretty you look today, my dear," Mrs. Eggleston said quickly, having noticed the scowl that had momentarily darkened Nicole's lively face.

  And because Mrs. Eggleston, with her white sugar-spun hair and gentle blue eyes, was the nearest thing to a grandmother that the twins knew, and because she really was on her best behavior, Nicole promptly forgot the Colonel's comments. She didn't remain with them long though, for seeing her father standing alone at the corner of the house, she wandered over to him. Almost absently he placed an arm around her slender shoulders and pulled her against him. "Happy, poppet?"

  "Oh, yes . . . but I am getting a little tired of smiling at everyone and being so very good. Won't they all go home soon?"

  Adrian laughed out loud. "So tactful! But that echoes my sentiments exactly!" Glancing around, he asked casually, "Where is your mother? I haven't seen her for some minutes now."

  "She's walking in the rose garden with Mr. Saxon, I think. At least that's where I saw her last."

  With surprise, Nicole felt her father's body stiffen and she looked up at his face curiously. It suddenly seemed tighter, the laughter lines grim. But then he laughed, a peculiar laugh, and said, "Well, why don't we go find them?"

  And as she liked nothing better than to have both her charming father and her very beautiful mother with her, she tagged happily along as her father took off with long strides in the direction of the formal rose gardens that lay to the left of the lawn area.

  They found Annabelle and Robert Saxon a few moments later at the far end of the garden. Annabelle, in a high-waisted gown of leaf-green jaconet that bared more of her full bosom than was precisely proper, was leaning languidly back against the bright yellow cushions of a lawn lounge placed under a shading willow tree. Robert Saxon was seated beside her, his black head bent attentively in Annabelle's direction. With a burst of innocent pride, Nicole couldn't help admiring her mother's startling beauty, the flaming red hair, the flawless features and the cat-shaped emerald eyes. Annabelle Ashford was undoubtedly one of the loveliest women in England.

  "Ah, here you are, my dear," Adrian said coolly. "Don't you think it a bit rude to desert your guests?"

  Annabelle shrugged indifferently, then holding out her arms to Nicole, she smiled her dazzling smile and eagerly Nicole went to her. It wasn't often that Mama was affectionate and Nicole hoarded these moments. Her head against Annabelle's lovely breasts, Nicole smiled shyly at Robert Saxon, who rather mockingly returned the smile.

  Casting her husband a calculating glance, Annabelle murmured, "It is so warm, Adrian, and you know these country parties are really not to my liking. I shall return in a moment, but I simply had to have a few minutes of peace and quiet, and Robert so very nicely offered to escort me away from all those babbling country yokels."

  Her eyes round with astonishment, Nicole looked up at her mother. "Don't you like the party, Mama? I think it is lovely!"

  "Of course I do, darling! It is just that this kind of affair is not as exciting as the ones your father and I attend in London. That is all I meant. Don't bother your head about it."

  Satisfied, Nicole rested comfortably against her mother, unaware of the charming picture they presented. It was Robert Saxon who commented on it: "You are to be congratulated, Ashford, on possessing such a lovely wife and, it appears, an extremely lovely child. With that hair and mouth and those great topaz eyes in a few years' time you'll have the suitors clamoring on your doorstep."

  Nicole blushed and turned her head away, although she was very pleased. Adrian sent Saxon a long unsmiling look and made some noncommittal remark. Sensing that the three adults were only making conversation in front of her, after one last hug Nicole stood and said, "If you will excuse me, I shall go and find Giles."

  "Run along, sweetheart," Adrian replied, and without another thought Nicole wandered down the neatly manicured flagstone path on her way to the house.

  There was a faint smell of lavender in the air that mingled with the heavy perfume of the rosebushes that lined the path. Taking a deep breath, Nicole savored the heady, rich fragrance tha
t surrounded her. Today had been so special. So perfect she would remember it forever. Her first grown-up party, and Mama so lovely and Father so handsome and kind. It was wonderful. Wonderful to live here at Ashland, wonderful to have Giles for a brother and to be the daughter of her parents. With a sense of growing pride she approached the stately house that she called home, thinking of the generations of Ash-fords that had lived in this very house; of the Ashfords that had sailed with Drake, of the Ashfords that had fought against Cromwell and had gone into exile with their prince, of the Ashfords that had been advisors and friends of the various monarchs, and she felt her heart swell with pride. Someday she would do great things tool She really would! And Giles and Mama and Father would be so very proud of her.

  Then laughing at her own sudden intensity, she began to run in search of Giles, finding him, as she expected, in the hayloft of the stables. The hayloft provided a perfect place to overlook Shadow and Midnight, and together the twins spent several moments watching the still-clumsy movements of the young foal. Rising to her feet and brushing away the bits of clinging straw, Nicole said, "We had better go back, Giles. Father thinks it is rude to leave our guests."

  Reluctantly Giles agreed and slowly he began to climb down the ladder that led to the floor of the stable. Nicole was following him when her foot slipped and she started to fall. She tried to save herself only she couldn't regain her balance and her body came hurtling down, down, down...

  With a smothered gasp, Nicole sat up in the bed, her eyes feverishly searching the room. It was her bedroom, just as it should be, only it was different. The furnishings, were the same, but toys no longer filled the chest under the window and no dress lay on the arm of the chair. It was different within herself, different because she realized with a sickening lurch in the region of her heart that she had been dreaming again. Dreaming of that wonderful day, just over a year ago. Dreaming of the way it had been then, dreaming that Giles and Mama and Father were still alive.