Pride of the King, The Read Online Free Page B

to pull herself up, so she remained on the soggy wood floor staring under the oak table.
     
     
     
    Chapter 5
    The storm returned to Louisiana, equal if not stronger in magnitude. The trees over the De Beauville plantation crouched in self-defense, trying to maintain their grip on the earth while the wind pulled savagely at their roots. Heavily taxed waterways spilled down new avenues bursting wildly over the embankments, hastily seeking new ground. The house strained under the stress of the tempest. Water streamed through the holes in the roof, and the wind ripped shutters from their window casements. Debris tumbled madly across the grounds of the estate, smashing everything in its path.
    Lauren did not see the destruction; she remained on the floor of the sitting room, sliding in and out of consciousness. Her injuries had sapped her strength, and a small puddle of blood had pooled on the floor by her mouth. All sense of reality left her. One moment it seemed like she had been on the floor for weeks, the next a heartbeat. The storm sounded distant and remote. She felt no fear, only groggy delirium.
    A low groaning sound came from under the floor, and some wood cracked. Lauren did not realize that the wind was lifting the plantation house from its very foundation. She fancied she could hear the slaves rattling pots and pans, speaking in hushed tones as they bustled about the plantation getting ready for dinner. She slipped back into a swoon.
    Waking again she heard a man bark, "Carefully now! Put her down gently!"
    Lauren felt a blanket drop over her body and someone brush the hair off her face whispering, "I must leave you now but I'll be back." She opened her eyes but saw no one. She fancied she had just been tucked her into her bed upstairs for the night.
    When Lauren awoke hours later, the storm had ceased. She was in the sitting room, but instead of resting on the hard cold floor, she was lying on a fur blanket in front of a fire. She saw a young man leaning over the hearth, stirring something in a large cast iron pot. He stepped from the fireside to the window, unlatching a shutter. The storm had weakened the hinges, and the entire piece dropped from the house onto the ground below with a crash. Chuckling, the young man peeked at the smashed shutter below, then sat down on the sill swinging one leg up to balance his lean body.
    The wind blew a lock of brown hair onto his forehead, and Lauren watched him stretch in the sunshine. The boy appeared to be around seventeen years of age, and she wondered if he had been the one to move her onto the hide.
    He dozed for a while in the sunlight then noticed her watching him and jumped down from the sill. "Well you are awake! We survived quite a storm, but it is over now.” He gestured toward the window, "Look, the sun has returned."
    The young man slid across the floor and ended up sitting cross-legged in front of Lauren. He was dressed in buckskin and wore his hair tied back with a leather thong, a broad smile stretching across his face. "My name is Rene Lupone, son of Gabriel Lupone. What's yours?"
    With great effort, Lauren whispered her name, but he could not understand her. He simply nodded, knowing that it was far too early to converse with his new friend.
    It was painful even to breathe, and Lauren felt sick to her stomach. She heard a door slam and a man entered the room standing over her.
    "She is awake, Papa, but I am afraid she cannot talk," said Rene.
    The handsome but weathered face of Gabriel Lupone looked down at Lauren. "Where is your family, girl? We must know where to take you." He hesitated a moment and continued, "I see you wear a wedding ring. Where is your husband?"
    Remembering yesterday, Lauren’s eyes filled with tears, and she turned her head.
    Monsieur Lupone whispered to his son, "Perhaps her husband was killed in the storm. Let her rest now, Rene." Putting a hand on his son's shoulder, he continued, "We will return in an hour to question her