Hart's Passion (Pirates & Petticoats Book 2) (4 page)

She’d been a tigress in bed once. Every trip to Charleston had been enhanced by her attentions. Normally, she’d accompany them to Philadelphia or even as far as New York and then occasionally make the return trip back to Charleston with them, keeping his bed warm and active. Now, the thought no longer held the allure it once did.
 

He’d have never guessed he would marry again. But Keelan was like no other woman he’d ever met. Spontaneous and reckless, yes, but also clever, passionate, and witty. And luscious. He inhaled deeply and allowed himself the luxury of taking time to expel his breath. Otherwise, he feared his more primal reaction would rise to the forefront when he remembered the sight of the lithe, young Keelan Grey floating naked upon the lake at Twin Pines. It would certainly be misinterpreted, fighting an erection while standing in the middle of Annette Camsby’s parlor.

“Well?” Annette cocked her head to the side, her deep black ringlets dangling near her ears. She raised a brow, but her expression was wary rather than inquisitive.
 

Landon clenched his jaw and forced a tight smile upon his face. “I’m afraid I’ve cancelled the journey to Philadelphia for now. A large portion of my cargo has been stolen and until it’s located, I cannot depart port.” A cowardly way to put it, but he wasn’t in the mood for one of Annette’s…moods.

Annette’s eyes widened, and she placed a hand to her chest. “Oh dear! How terrible! What will you do?”

He clasped his hands behind his back to keep himself from crossing his arms in frustration. “Make every effort to find it. When we do, we’ll have to reassess its condition, which might take time. If we don’t locate it, then we’ll have to change our trade route. Either way, I’m afraid our departure will be delayed, at the very least, and likely to be cancelled. I’m not sure at this time what our plans will entail going forward.” That was mostly true. His plans going forward included spending a lot of time with Keelan on deck and in bed.

Annette rose from her seat and glided over to him, a slow sultry smile playing upon her face. She stopped an inch in front of him and then leaned in, running a bold hand up his torso, over his chest, and down his arm.
 

She took his hand and entwined her fingers with his. “Well, then we should make the most of your time while you’re here. It would be a shame to come all the way to my home and leave…empty-handed.” She placed his hand on her breast.

In the past, he’d have needed no further urging. He would have locked the parlor door, and they would have sated their lust on the large Persian rug he’d given her. However, today there was no stirring, no passion aroused to drive him into her open arms. And thighs.

“I’m sorry, Annette,” he said, removing his hand and dropping it to his side. “I must return to town and locate my stolen property.”

Her smile slipped from sultry to sad. “Such a shame. I hope you remember to send word to me when you are ready to sail. You know how fond I am of our sojourns together.” Her eyes were doleful.
 

She knew.
 

“I’m afraid my next destination will not be one you’ll be willing to travel, Annette.”

“I see,” she said, turning toward the window Landon had stood near earlier. “Well, if the wind shifts in my favor, do send me a word.”

“Of course.”
 

There was nothing more to say other than farewell, and he hated those. “Stay well, Annette. I wish you the best.” He spun on his heel and left the parlor. A house slave opened the front door, and he strode to Orion and unwrapped the reins from the post near the steps as Dr. Garrison and Miss Doreen Grey were sending their mounts with a stable boy.
 

He nodded a greeting to the doctor and tipped his hat to Miss Grey. Keelan’s cousin had been accompanying the doctor on his calls and assisting him with his patients. Hopefully, she had diverted the doctor’s attentions away from Keelan.
 

He turned his horse toward Jared Grey’s town home. Now, to find her.
 

The early summer heat in the Charleston Low Country had become oppressive. As she’d quickly become accustomed, Keelan dipped her handkerchief into a basin near her bed and patted the base of her neck. The black garments she wore for mourning did nothing but absorb the heat. The now familiar trickle of sweat ran between her breasts and she pushed the damp handkerchief down her bodice.

Daniel, true to his promise to the commodore, had slipped away and booked passage to Boston for Slaney and himself. Keelan had heard the northern colonies were more tolerant of the British and more likely to offer safer passages to Great Britain. Since she would be with Captain Hart, Daniel offered to travel to Boston on a passenger ship. Slaney would accompany him. From there, they’d find a ship bound for England. Both had family there, and with the letters of recommendation she’d provided, both should easily find employment.

Her stomach quivered as if it contained a thousand butterflies. The night of the ball, when Landon had taken her into his arms in the moonlit garden and asked her to sail away with him, he’d given her hope that she’d spend her life with someone of her choosing. Her uncle’s choice, Pratt, was an aging plantation owner. Doctor Garrison was a colorless, bland physician. Hart had offered her an opportunity to flee from her father’s and Uncle Jared’s scheme to be certain she was “properly” wed and cared for before the start of the harvest season.
 

What Papa and Uncle Jared didn’t realize, was over the years while Papa was at sea, her mother spent every moment in the shop, leaving no time to develop any kind of relationship with her daughter. Keelan had learned at an early age how to take care of herself. Unlike many women, Keelan did not need a husband to do that for her.

To request Landon take her to the Wind Briar country cottage now, with the United States and England on the brink of another war, would be unreasonable. She couldn’t ask him to put his ship and his crew at risk of being captured and pressed into the Royal Navy.

Yet, every moment since Papa had told her she wasn’t his daughter, she’d wondered what her sire was like. Her need to learn his identity burned hotter each day. If Daniel found her father’s trunk and kept it safe for her, she would retrieve it when she could.

Early this morning, Slaney had started to pack their things. It was important they depart quickly, before Uncle Jared approached the topic of her future. Only Slaney and Daniel knew of her plans. The rest of the family simply assumed she and Garrison had a tiff, but were still engaged. Dr. Garrison hadn’t mentioned anything either. Perhaps he was of a mind that the wine, which had affected her more than she’d expected, had been to blame, and she hadn’t meant what she’d said when she told him she didn’t want to marry him and that kissing him was “like kissing a barn door.”

She cringed. While true, it was still a terrible thing to blurt out even though she’d been tipsy.

“I wish we didn’t have to sneak away,” she muttered to Slaney. “Uncle Jared and Aunt Sarah were kind to move to Twin Pines to help Papa and me. We had no knowledge of running a plantation, and Uncle Jared’s management was a godsend. I would have preferred to be able say goodbye properly.”

“I know, lass,” Slaney replied, closing the trunk. “But yer uncle is responsible for ye now, and he promised your Da’ to see ye married to Dr. Garrison. Both took a likin’ to yer suggestion to rent out the plantation to Mr. Pratt and use the rents to help ye open yer shop in town. If yer uncle caught wind of your promise to go back to Wind Briar or run off with Captain Hart, he’d marry ye off this instant, instead.”

Aunt Sarah would want her to stay and marry Dr. Garrison and start a safe, placid life in Charleston. Her uncle would have been happier if she’d agreed to marry Mr. Pratt because of his wealth and landholdings. Pratt, a neighboring plantation owner, not only had a penchant for overindulging in food and drink but was heavy-handed with his slaves as well.

Keelan shuddered. She’d rather be a spinster.
 

“Well, after we’re gone, Uncle Jared can sell the plantation to Mr. Pratt outright. I’m sure he’ll be happy to be rid of the responsibility. Accounting for people as one would do with livestock isn’t right, and I’m simply not comfortable with it.” She closed the lid on the smaller, worn trunk containing her dagger, sword, and waif’s clothes she wore in the early hours each morning when she trained with Daniel, another activity to which her uncle disapproved. She always suspected her father—Papa—had secretly been proud of her skills with both sword and blade.

She sighed. It was hard to avoid thinking of Papa as her father and instead as a man who played the role. He was never around very often or for very long, but still, she was fond of him and he’d acted fond of her.

It would have been easy to simply ignore the promise to Papa and go on with her life, but Daniel had taught her a promise kept proved one’s integrity. And damned if her curiosity wasn’t driving her crazy. Sending Daniel and Slaney was a satisfying compromise for all of them.

The day Hart had bartered a kiss from her in exchange for untangling her hair from a briar bush had changed her.
 

Her heart tripped as she recalled the handsome captain, his wet, fiery kisses, and his glacial blue eyes that looked at her as if they knew every secret she’d ever possessed. She let her lids drift shut and savored the memory of his arms around her waist, his palm capturing her breast…He had left a mark on her heart she’d never be able to erase.

She found her old trunk and pulled out the bag of coins she kept inside. After providing for their passage to Boston and enough for emergency supplies, little remained. How she managed beyond that would depend on the information contained in the letter her father had placed in a chest in their country home, Wind Briar.

There was also the ring and the man in the locket to consider.

She wandered to an open window,
 
greeted by the sickly sweet scent of aging Magnolia blossoms in the dense early summer air. It had settled over Charleston, turning the dirt to a fine dust and coating everything, muting nature’s colors to various shades of red tinted gray.
 

Even if she found her father, there was no guarantee he would want her. According to the tale she had been told, he had a wife and other children of his own. Thinking back to the conversation a few weeks ago between her uncle and Landon, she still wasn’t sure she would be able to make it back to England. With an inevitable war approaching, the crossing became even more treacherous because both countries had unleashed privateers, who were little more than pirates with permission to plunder. Landon’s merchant fleet would be a prime prize for any privateer.
 

As badly as she wanted to finish her quest and find her father, she wouldn’t ask Landon to take such a risk.

A light knock sounded upon her door. At her summons, it opened, and Dr. Everett Garrison poked his head in.
 

The doctor glanced curiously about the chamber, noting the trunks in the middle of the floor.

“Are you going somewhere?”
 

Slaney exchanged a wary look with Keelan.

“Dr. Garrison, would you join me on the porch?” she asked. “We can discuss my plans in private. The heat is overwhelming in here and I could use some air. I’ll be along in a moment.”
 

He nodded and retreated.
 

Everything was packed and ready to go. “Slaney, please have Simon bring our trunks down to the street. Daniel should have the carriage ready soon.”

The maid nodded and Keelan went downstairs and out to the veranda, pondering the best way to tell Dr. Garrison she still would not marry him. Nothing came to mind to make the task easier.

Jared Grey’s house was typical of most Charleston homes. Since they were taxed by frontage, houses were built close together. Residents also built them narrow and deep. It was as if they took their home and rotated it ninety degrees, so the side faced the street. Long covered porches, which normally embraced front doors, instead ran the side length of the house. The close proximity of their neighbor added shade to the porch during most of the day. A hedge along the street-side area didn’t do as much to muffle the city’s noise, as it did to offer a bit of privacy for those enjoying a respite on the long side porch.

Dr. Garrison was looking over the hedge at the activity out front. The street wasn’t a particularly busy one, but there was the occasional rider or carriage passing by, as well as people walking along the walks. Keelan sat, her back toward the road and the clop of horses hooves and the jangle of carriages. There was less chance of being overheard out here.

Dr. Garrison pulled his hands behind his back. “Please tell me what is going on.”

“I leave for Boston in a few days,” she lied. “Slaney has packed our things. We’re going back to England.”
 

He jolted as if struck. “What…why…” he sputtered a moment before he continued. “Miss Keelan, we are to be married. Your home is here.”

“Dr. Garrison, we discussed this the night of Doreen’s ball. I cannot marry you. Going home to England is my decision. I am going at the request of my…at Papa’s request.”

His expression tensed further. She waited for him to continue. She’d not spoken to Dr. Garrison alone since the night in the garden, after she privately broke their engagement. In the garden during Doreen’s ball, the doctor’s darker side had surfaced. He’d become almost violent. Even now, there was something a little off in his demeanor, a shift in his gaze, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, which made her even more uneasy in his presence.

When he finally spoke, his words tumbled together in a clumsy rush. “Miss Keelan, my behavior at the ball was abhorrent and I am here to offer my sincerest apology. I wish to mend our relationship. You were…well…the wine…” He shrugged and dug his thumb into his palm. “Perhaps you weren’t quite yourself, and you said some things you did not mean…and I said some things I certainly did not mean.”