Hart's Desire (Pirates & Petticoats Book 1) (24 page)

The night of Doreen’s ball had come all too soon.
 

Keelan sighed apologetically. “I’m sorry, Slaney. It’s just that—”

“You canna wait to be in the arms of yer betrothed?”

She noted the sarcasm in her maid’s voice. “Had poor Pastor Braun and his chapel not been blown away by the storm, I’d be a married woman by now. At least it’s a betrothal announcement and not a wedding ceremony that will take place later this evening.” She picked up a mirror and studied the maid’s handiwork. “Very pretty, Slaney.” She had a fleeting desire to yank on her waif’s clothes, stuff the bag of coins she had hidden into a pillowcase, and slip out the back door a final time.
 

The chamber door opened, startling both women.

Slaney made a small, strange noise.
 

Perplexed at the sound and assaulted by the overpowering aroma of rose water, she shared Slaney’s reaction. One glance at Doreen’s attire, and she understood the maid’s response.
 

Doreen’s gown was a magnificent, pale yellow silk creation. It was apparent a talented seamstress had tried hard to take the latest style and mold it to Doreen’s skinny frame. On a more endowed woman, the dress would have been stunning. However, on Doreen’s scant frame, it was obscene.

The gown barely covered what little Doreen had in the way of breasts by showing a daring plunge in the neckline. Uncle Jared will be horrified. It’s a wonder Aunt Sarah had allowed Doreen to wear it.

Her cousin pushed her skirts out of the way, as she walked past the bed and scowled, shaking her strawberry blond locks in disapproval. “You’re ruining my ball.”

Keelan smiled humorlessly at her sulking cousin, although she was careful to add a cheerful lilt in her voice. “Good evening, Doreen. That is a beautiful gown. Has your father seen it yet?”

The young woman sniffed as she gestured to the garment. “I had this gown made for this ball by the best dressmaker in Charleston. She assured me it’s all the rage in Paris.” She patted a perfectly placed curl on her shoulder and lifted her chin higher, while her gaze raked up and down Keelan’s frame.
 

Doreen continued snidely, “Papa would want me to have only the best.”

She raised a skeptical brow. So Uncle Jared hasn’t seen it.

“Since
you
arrived, all the eligible beaus have come to call and after a few minutes with you, they storm out and never return! It’s always you they want.
Please
tell
Miss Keelan
I have come to call,” she mimicked. Doreen’s expression filled with disdain, “Yet
,
you toy with them like…like…a common
strumpet
!”
 

Keelan’s temper flared at her cousin’s lewd words. She hadn’t intended to reveal her reasoning, but it was out before she could stop herself. “I was not toying with them, Doreen. I was rejecting them in an attempt to turn their attention to you, instead of me.”

For a moment, her cousin was speechless. Her composure shifted and transformed her expression from jealous spite to deep humiliation. Her face paled, and her hand shook a little when she reached up to brush a strand of hair from her eyes.

“Well, it didn’t work, did it?” Doreen responded in a flat voice. Her lower lip trembled. A dark flush started to creep over her cheeks. “You have managed to draw all the attention to yourself, instead
.
Again
.
Here it is,
my
ball,
my
cotillion, and Father insists on making your engagement announcement to the whole of Charleston.” Doreen’s voice broke, and she whirled away and stood facing the window.
 

It was a long moment before Doreen composed herself enough to face them. Her eyes glistened with tears. “You’re now…engaged…to the one man about whom I care the most.” She swallowed a jagged sob. “Why didn’t you simply choose the captain and go away with
him
? Why Everett? You don’t love him. I know you don’t!”
 

No. Keelan froze in stunned silence. Doreen was in love with Dr. Garrison? She took a hesitant step toward her cousin. Oh dear. Why hadn’t she noticed?

“Doreen, had I known—”

“What, Keelan?” Tears started to spill down her cousin’s face. “You would have what? Turned his attention toward me like you claim you did with the others, as just another one of your cast-offs?”

“Yes,” she said, then regretted the words. She hadn’t meant to sound as if she agreed with Doreen’s assessment, that she would leave Everett to her cousin as one might do with an unwanted possession. “No, I mean—”

“I know what you mean.” Doreen cut her off. “You are so selfish! Is this a
game
to you? Do you like toying with a man’s affections like a child with a doll?” The tears were falling faster now, her breathing harsh and jerky. “Can’t you see he was trying…to save your stupid, worthless…reputation?” Doreen stuttered the words between sobs.

Keelan closed her mouth. The actual order of events was no longer important. This wasn’t about that. There was no need to make things worse.

To give her something to do other than watch her cousin cry and feel wretched about it, she went to the tallboy and pulled open drawers until she found a handkerchief. She silently handed it to her cousin. The best thing for Doreen to do right now was to cry it out.

“Don’t try to be kind,” Doreen said at last, dabbing away the tears. “You don’t deserve Everett. Everett is kind and chivalrous and generous. He’s not only been seeing to your father, but also the children on this plantation. I’ve been helping him. He’s been teaching me how to mix up medicine and treat injuries. He’s even taught me how to administer your father’s medicine. I was hoping…” She choked back another sob.
 

Fingers of regret raked across Keelan’s heart. It hadn’t been her intention to steal the man Doreen loved. Given a choice of two evils, she had simply chosen the lesser. How had she missed Doreen’s affection for Everett? Had she been so wrapped up in pursuing her own desires she hadn’t seen the most obvious signs?
 

The irony hit her like a hard punch to the chest.
 

Doreen believed she toyed with Everett in much the same manner she’d accused Landon of toying with her…as someone who played with the emotions of others as if it were merely a game.

Now more than ever, she wanted to devise a way to avoid this marriage. But the wheels were already in motion, and the chances of stopping them were very slim.

Run away
, whispered a voice in her head.
Just go.

Her cousin moved about the room, picking up objects and absently putting them down again. She sniffled as she picked up the mirror.
 

“Doreen, I’m sorry. This isn’t something I want either. Maybe things will change for the better for both of us.”

“Better? How can anything become better?” Doreen clenched her fists at her sides and stomped her foot. “It should be
my
engagement party, Everett’s and mine! But you stole him from me, and the worst part is that I know you don’t even love him!” She flung the mirror on the bed.

Out of respect for her uncle and aunt, she would avoid any type of confrontation with her spoiled cousin.
 

Doreen glared at her. “I hate you.”

Ignoring her, she pointed a finger at the door. “Doreen, you should go.”
 

Snarling, Doreen grabbed a water goblet off the nightstand and flew toward her. “Don’t ever speak to me again, you selfish, spoiled bitch!”
 

Doreen drew back her hand and swung the glass at Keelan’s head. In two quick movements, she instinctively blocked it with her left forearm and snatched the glass away with her right hand. The momentum of the charge carried Doreen forward. The act of being disarmed threw her off balance and she crashed to the floor. Keelan stared down at the fluffy pile of silk and petticoats.

Doreen wailed and floundered around on the floor like a drunken trout. “My arm! It will bruise for sure, I just know it!”

She’d had enough. “Slaney, help Doreen up so she can leave.”
 

Slaney warily moved around behind the girl, slid her elbows under Doreen’s armpits, and heaved. After stepping on the stiffly starched petticoats several times, Doreen stumbled to her feet and jerked her arms away. Her perfectly placed curls looked like they had been raked with a kitchen whisk.
 

Doreen stomped out of the room, yelling for her maid at the top of her lungs.
 

For a moment, both Keelan and Slaney stood in shocked silence. Waving away the still pungent scent of rose water, Slaney moved to close the door.

Keelan attempted a smile. “Thank you, Slaney.”

The maid brushed her hands on her apron then reached for Keelan’s gown. “Come now, lass, let’s get ye dressed. Guests are beginning to arrive.”

She doubted she’d be able to act the part of a happy fiancée in Dr. Garrison’s presence this evening. However, her father’s health seemed to improve slightly in the past few days since the storm, and he planned on attending the ball for a short while, so she’d do her best.

Slaney’s sympathetic voice broke the quiet of the room, “Perhaps ye could feign a headache and retire early.”

No.
 

“I will not give Doreen the satisfaction of thinking she’s bullied me away.” Yes, her pride was overriding every thread of sense she had, but she was too upset and angry with herself to care. She stepped into the shimmering ocean-blue gown. Slaney pulled it up over her breasts and shoulders and began working the fastenings.

When she finished, Slaney gave her a warm, soft hug and spun her toward the door. “At least the other gents will be leavin’ ye be this evenin’, since yer betrothed now.”

Wonderful. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “That’s a small comfort.”

While she made her way down the hallway, Keelan heard laughter and music rising from the ballroom below. It was a mild evening, and every window in the house had been opened to take advantage of the light winds. The aroma of roasted meats from the fire pit mingled with the sweet scent of magnolia blossoms. Her aunt’s voice carried up the stairs as she greeted the guests.
 

Normally, she’d be giddy at the opportunity to attend such a gala. However, any excitement or anticipation was smothered by the somber blanket of reality and her new responsibility to act the part of Everett Garrison’s intended. Her mind was bombarded by images of shackles and grey mist. Melancholy seeped deep into her bones.

Twin Pines had a glorious two-story foyer. The staircase split partway down, much like a wishbone, to hug the side walls. Upon entry, visitors were ushered straight ahead, beneath the tall archway under the grand stair. Stepping carefully, she began her descent. The last thing she wanted was to arrive at the bottom in a tumbled heap.
 

“Captain Hart! We’re surprised to see you. In light of recent events, I had assumed you would not be attending this evening.”
 

She heard the hard edge in her uncle's voice. Her stomach plummeted to her toes at the thought of seeing the mocking countenance of Landon Hart again.
 

Not him!
 

Not here!

She sensed his perusal even before she saw him. She fought to keep her attention fastened to her slippered feet as she descended, otherwise she’d surely see that amused, yet mocking expression he might give a child who’s been caught doing something foolish. Would he ever see her as a lady, or would he always see her as a boyish chit?

There was no way to delay it any longer, so she allowed herself to glance at him. A slow, swirling sensation pooled in her belly. That was definitely
not a
mocking expression. Instead, he regarded her with a warm glow of admiration. Or lust. Probably lust. His gaze traveled from her face down to the hem of her gown and up again, causing her to shiver involuntarily. A warm blush crept over her cheeks, as the captain’s stare seemed to linger overlong near the low neckline of her gown. It took almost all her strength to keep from crossing her arms over her chest and fleeing back up to the safety of her chamber. Instead, she placed what she hoped was a cool smile on her lips and continued down.

Tonight, Landon’s ebony locks were secured in a queue. His matching light gray waistcoat complimented the dark charcoal breeches perfectly. The black silk shirt accented the sun darkened skin of his face and neck.

Breathe. Swallow. Swallow and breathe. No, blast it, not at the same time. Her mouth had gone dry. She gripped the banister more firmly and gave herself a mental tongue-lashing.
 

Concentrate, you ninny
.
 

Now was not the time to lose her footing. Before she could take another step, Landon ascended the stairs two at a time and offered her his arm.

“Allow me to escort you, Miss Grey.” He placed his hand on her elbow. A warmth spread through her arm and all the way to her toes. Ignore the touch of his fingers. Ignore them. Watch the steps. Good Lord if she tripped now the humiliation would vaporize her like boiling water in a teapot.
 

“Quite honestly, I don’t know how you ladies cope with steps and full skirts. Were a man in your shoes, he’d already be at the bottom in a crumpled pile of arms and legs.”

Her laugh came out more as a weak warble, betraying the state of her nerves. “It appears they are wise enough to avoid wearing skirts in the first place,” she said. “We women bring this all on ourselves.”

He dipped his head. “And we men are most grateful.”

Really, what kind of mindless banter was this? He had to see she was flustered. Was he actually trying to calm her with this banal conversation? Or perhaps he was trying to lure her into a false sense of security. She resolved to maintain her distance from the man, as soon as she ascended the stairs safely.

When they reached the bottom, she removed her hand from his arm to greet her aunt and uncle by the door.
 

“Good evening, Uncle Jared, Aunt Sarah. It’s a beautiful night for your daughter’s ball.”