Hart's Desire (Pirates & Petticoats Book 1) (29 page)

He smiled a slow tender smile. “I want you with me every day for the rest of my life. It would be my honor and joy if you would accompany me…as my wife. Keelan, love, will you marry me?”

Wife?
 

He wanted her with him.
With
him. And he loved her!

“Oh, yes!” She flung her arms around his neck. Here was a solution that hadn’t occurred to her…To both love a man of the sea and never be parted from him. “I love you, Landon Hart, and I will indeed marry you.”

From their first meeting, she was drawn to this man in a way she couldn’t explain. It was as if, when she breathed, his essence flowed into her chest and swirled around her core. It permeated her being, invaded her mind, surrounded her heart, and enveloped her soul. Simply being near him energized her and brought her senses sharply into focus. She craved the strength and freedom and vitality his presence stirred in her. Her mind stilled even as her heart soared to the heavens and for a brief moment, time hung suspended in a mad twirl among the clouds as they kissed.
 

Regrettably, the kiss had to end. With a rueful smile, Keelan fiddled with her tattered sleeve. “I best retire before anyone sees me. I don’t think the family could take any more gossip on my account.”
 

Landon took her elbow, and they started walking back toward the house. “We have cargo in the
Seeker
to deliver to Harbour Town. The
Desire
should be ready to leave dry dock within the next week. We’ll hoist a Blue Peter—a blue flag with a white square in the middle—when the ship is ready to leave port. As soon as I find the freight that was stolen from my ship, we’ll be ready to sail.”
 

She nodded; the timing would work well with her aunt’s plans. “Aunt Sarah plans to go to Charleston on Thursday to spend a few days at the town house. I’ll accompany her and send word to you when I arrive.”
 

A twig snapped nearby and both froze in place, listening.

“Miss Keelan! Are you there?”

She immediately recognized the voice and whispered, “I’m here, Slaney. On the stone path near the rose garden.”
 

Slaney rounded the hedgerow, breathless. “I’ve been looking for ye everywhere. I’m afraid it’s yer Da.”

Cold talons of dread gripped Keelan’s heart at her maid’s next words.

“He’s taken a bad turn, and he’s askin fer ye.”
 

Her gaze flew back to Landon’s face. He took her hands in his. “Tend to your father. I’ll wait for you aboard the
Desire
.”

He bent his head and placed a tender kiss on her lips before he enveloped her in his arms. She melted against the warmth of his chest.
 

“In a few days we’ll be together,” he whispered in her ear.
 

Together. The sweetest word ever created. She smiled and turned her face toward his for one more kiss, then looped her arm through the maid’s.
 

“Come, Slaney, let’s take the back stair. It’s a longer path, but I’d rather not be seen in such disarray by the guests.”
 

“We should hurry, lass. I heard a couple on the veranda mention taking a walk in the moonlight,” Slaney whispered, tugging on her arm. “I’ll see you to your Da, then I’ll go make you a nice strong cup of tea.”

 
With one last glance at Landon’s handsome face, Keelan allowed the maid to lead her away.
 

He'd done it. Keelan was going to marry him. He couldn't think of a better way to live out his days aboard the
Desire
than with her by his side. He slid around chattering guests, searching for Jared Grey. Instead of Jared, he spied Conal at the ballroom doors urgently scanning the crowd, putting him immediately on alert.

Something was wrong.

Beside Conal stood a crewman, Henry, holding his hat in his hands like he would rather be eating it than standing there among Charleston’s finest. He weaved his way through the jovial crowd.
 

“Landon.” Conal shifted his stance, and apparently finding no other words which would make the news less harsh, blurted the facts, “We found Billy near a tavern called
The Whistling Pig
in an alley off Meeting Street.” His voice dropped, “He'd been hit on the head and left tucked in the shadows behind the tavern. He didn’t remember a thing that happened. He didn’t even know
us
. We left him in his aunt’s care. I don’t think he’ll be up for another voyage for some time yet, if ever.”

Landon lowered his head and took an angry breath. What kind of bastard would do such terrible harm to a young slip of a boy like Billy?
 

Conal continued, “Did ye find out who went with him and the last wagon load?”

Landon nodded, “All three were local lads. Robbie Crowe, long scar across his shoulder and missing the ring finger on his left hand, Orvis Pike, shorter and stouter, and a tall, thin man named Hawkins. I am waiting to speak with Jared Grey, regarding their possible whereabouts and employer.”

Henry spoke up. “We could start searching the pubs and boarding houses for them. They are bound to have a favorite tavern or woman or place to sup.”

Landon nodded in agreement. “Be discreet. I don’t want them to get nervous and disappear. We need to find their employer.” Landon crossed his arms. “I’ll see Billy’s aunt properly compensated before we leave Charleston. We’ll need to find another galley boy for Marcel before we leave port.”

Conal and Henry quickly departed. Landon hoped they would be able to glean some information in the pubs without causing much suspicion. They’d never find his stolen cargo if the thieves went silent and dark. He scanned the room for Jared Grey. He had some questions about warehouses closer to the docks.
 

Jared was surrounded by four other men, chatting. As Landon approached, he looked up, excused himself, and gestured for Landon to follow him into the hall.

“Captain Hart,” Jared Grey said, when they were away from the music, voices and ears. “I have some information for you. If you accompany me to my office, we can discuss it more discreetly.”

Once in the study, Grey poured him a glass of port and they sat chairs flanking an unlit fireplace. A model of a frigate, was piled in pieces on a lower shelf.
 

“I appreciate your efforts to find information to help my cause,” Landon said.

Grey waved his hand in dismissal. “I’m afraid it might not be worth anything, but you should know what I learned.”
 

Landon set down his glass and waited. Any information was better than none at all.

“I have heard an unfamiliar group has been frequenting a tavern near the docks. I noted this only because one name mentioned sounded familiar, then I recalled hearing the same name during our conversation a few weeks ago, when you and Captain O’Brien joined us for breakfast.”

Landon’s stomach tightened.

“The leader’s name is Gampo,” Jared finished.

After hiding behind the hedges to eavesdrop on Keelan and Hart’s conversation, Everett stumbled into the ballroom and elbowed his way through the guests and up the main stairs. It was hard to focus, and his head was pounding. The anger at Keelan’s betrayal and Hart’s interference roiled in his gut. Tonight’s events necessitated an adjustment. Commodore Grey was supposed to die after the wedding, but his haughty daughter had made it necessary to alter this plan.
 

Two years ago, Commodore George Grey had sealed his fate when he sunk the ship carrying Everett’s parents and beloved fiancée, Rachel. The memory made Everett stumble up the last step.

 
Rachel.
 

So loving…so devoted, kind, and gentle. In his dreams, he still heard her whispered promises…to love him forever, and give him a family. Children. Their children. Now, without her, he was a spinning compass with no true north.
 

What else was he to do?
 

What else would ease his despair?
 

He owed her more. She deserved more.
 

Don’t fret, Rachel, my love. The result will be the same. The commodore will resign his life racked by pain.

Rachel deserved to be avenged.
 

Vengeance would release his mind from the torment of her absence. It had to. It was all he could think about. Rachel came to him in his dreams, crying in despair for the children she would never have. Her tears become an ocean rising up above her ankles, to her waist, and her neck; it swallowed her down into its depths, her mouth open, her arms wide…pleading…sinking.

It had taken considerable willpower to restrain himself from simply killing the commodore and be done with it. The man who killed his family and his love didn’t deserve a quick painless death. Even the gallows was too good for him, and while he’d been furious at the time, now Everett was glad the commodore had been rescued and shipped off to America. It had given him time to plan and execute a slow, painful poisoning.
 

He demanded justice.
 

Sweet Rachel would have her revenge.

He had vowed to eliminate Commodore Grey’s family members one by one, hoping each death would chip away at the painful stone encasing his heart. It had been easy to spook the well-bred, but spirited horses pulling the commodore's carriage. The accident was spectacular; his wife, dead.

Even better news arrived earlier in the week. He’d received word the assassin he’d hired in London recently succeeded in eliminating the commodore’s eldest brother, and that information lightened Everett’s mood considerably. The commodore would be next in line for any wealth passed down. His daughter’s dowry would have certainly grown as well.

Keelan, who was beautiful and kind, would make a good wife. She needed to be polished a little. He would teach her how to be more like Rachel…daintier…softer…reticent.
 

Obedient.
 

She would put his needs and desires before her own and see to his comfort. She would give him children. She would commit her life to making him happy. A fitting patch for the gaping hole the commodore left in his life.
 

Keelan could never replace Rachel.
 

Never.
 

But he’d make sure she’d come very close.
 

Like a clay mold.
 

A replica.
 

Keelan would learn how to become more like his Rachel. Then his life would be happy and whole again. The dark, sad days brimming with wretched loss would be behind him, forgotten. The world would be as it should be once again.
 

But Keelan must learn to love him. He needed her to love him as Rachel had loved him.
 

It was bothersome to discover she didn’t love him. He’d change that. He’d develop a plan to make her love him.
 

This meant he’d need Gampo’s assistance, again.

“This entire night is a complete disaster.” Doreen flung her fan on a nearby chair in her Uncle George’s bedroom.

“Doreen!” Aunt Sarah gasped, pausing at the doorway with Keelan.
 

 
“Well, it’s true,” her cousin pouted. She flounced onto the chaise lounge and stared at the ceiling. “As the guest of honor, I should be downstairs entertaining my beaus.”

Uncle Jared had been standing near the bed, but at his daughter’s tirade, he stepped over to where she sat brooding. He frowned down at her. “Out of respect for your uncle, you will stay.”

Doreen folded her arms and turned her head to stare fixedly at the tapestry hanging on the far wall.

Keelan scanned the room quickly for Everett. No sight of him, thank God. She had taken a few moments to change her damaged gown. She also wore the signet ring Papa had given her on a ribbon around her neck. Slaney had made her drink a cup of strong tea. Thankfully, she was feeling less woozy. She took a step toward her father’s bedside.

“Gracious, Keelan! Whatever has happened to you?” Uncle Jared gaped. Keelan caught her reflection in the window. She’d forgotten to have Slaney repair her hair. Several ribbons had come undone and the braided coif sagged crazily near her nape.

“You should ask the good Captain Hart.” Doreen sneered.

“What?” Her uncle's jaw tensed, and he stared pointedly at Keelan. “If he has abused you…”

She gave her cousin a firm look. “Doreen, this is not the time.” To her uncle, she stated quietly. “Everett and I had a bit of a disagreement, and I have called off the engagement.”
 

Doreen’s shoulders jerked as if she was poked by something sharp, and she sat upright.

“Oh dear,” Aunt Sarah said, casting a worried glance at her husband.

Uncle Jared’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Everett did not mention it earlier.”

When was that? “You saw him?” she asked.

“Yes, he came in to tend to George and realized his time was…short. He found me a few minutes ago and told me we should say our goodbyes.” Her heart clenched at the sadness in her uncle's countenance.
 

Her own chest constricted within grief's cold grip. Even after his retirement and her mother’s sudden death, her father still had not spent much time with her. She’d hoped she would be able to nourish a stronger bond with him, but he had remained quiet and detached, spending most of his time and energy on Twin Pines.

Aunt Sarah sobbed into her handkerchief. Uncle Jared walked to his wife, put his arm around her shoulders, and softened his voice. “Dr. Garrison alerted us to George’s condition, and I came directly here while Sarah went to find you.”

She stepped to her father’s side.

Her heart lurched. She didn’t think his color could pale any further. Shallow cheeks, sunken eyes, and white lips. He looked nothing like the stocky, vibrant, jovial man she remembered. His once broad shoulders were now thin and bony. She clasped his cool, limp hand.

“Papa?” She placed his hand upon her cheek. “I’m here, Papa.”