Hart's Desire (Pirates & Petticoats Book 1) (31 page)

George opened his eyes. He winced and Everett leaned in close. He wanted to make sure the old man heard his next words.

“Your niece just gave you a potent dose of the serum that has been slowly poisoning you over the past several months,” Everett whispered harshly.
 

George’s eyelids flew open and they stared at him in shock.

“Why did Doreen do it, you’re wondering?” He took a deep breath but couldn’t contain his shudder. “I am a healer, not a killer, like you.” He stared at his hands. “Still, my fingers are coated with blood, even though I had Doreen do the deed. She didn’t know, of course. She believed she was giving you medicine.” He stared hard at the commodore. “Have you heard of Rachel Hornsby? Jeremy Garrison? Martha Garrison? Emmett Garrison?”

George shook his head, a confused frown on his face.

“They were my family, my parents and younger brother, my fiancée… sweet, sweet Rachel. You killed them. You sunk their ship and you
killed
them.”

The pain in the old man’s eyes could not affect him. It was too late for that.

He continued, “I vowed to her, my Rachel, that I would serve you the same dish you served me.” He leaned closer. “You have been dining on it for months. Now
you
know what it’s like to lose the people you love.”

The old man’s brows furrowed, as if he was trying to decipher his words. An understanding began to dawn across his features.

“Yes!” Everett nodded. “First, I removed your wife, nephew, and sister-in-law. Then before we left England, I hired a man to kill your older brother. It took longer than I anticipated, but it was accomplished quite successfully.”

He wanted to see the old man’s expression when the final most horrendous realization occurred.
 

“And now, your beloved daughter is my
betrothed
.”
 

The old commodore’s eyes widened. He struggled to raise his head. “No!” he rasped, the fear choking his voice.

“Oh, yes indeed. You were there when she chose me, remember? Although we had a little tiff tonight, I will still make things work to my satisfaction. She
will
become my wife.”

The old man’s mouth opened in a silent scream. Bony hands reached to claw at him, but he was now well out of reach.
 

“Papa?” Keelan knocked then opened the bedroom door. “Dr. Garrison, how is he?”
 

He gestured for her to come closer, and she approached the bed and kissed her father’s forehead.

He gave her a sympathetic smile. “He’s nearing his end now, my dear.” He draped his arm over her shoulders. “Speak to him, let him know you’ll be fine so he can…let go.”

Grey’s eyes twitched frantically between him and Keelan. He made a low choking sound. She quickly grasped his hand.
 

“Papa, I’m here. It’s all right. I’m here.” Her eyes welled with tears.
 

The commodore’s lips cracked as he tried to form words. “Keelan…I…he is….” A slight whimper escaped from his mouth.
 

The old man’s chest rose and fell, and rose and fell, then stilled. Keelan wept softly, still holding his hand. Everett squeezed her shoulder in sympathy. “I’ll go inform Mr. and Mrs. Grey that he has passed on.”

Keelan nodded and blotted her face with a handkerchief.

He stepped into the hall then pulled out his watch. He gently opened it to stare at the small portrait wedged inside the lid.

“For you, Rachel, my love,” Everett whispered. He snapped the case shut. If Keelan Grey thought she was going to elope with Hart, she'd thought wrong. She'd never arrive at that ship.
 

He’d make sure of it.

Tales have been told about events in Charleston in the waning days of July, 1811 that set the course for the destruction of Twin Pines and the decline of the neighboring plantation owned by Leon Pratt. There were whispers of manipulations by a pirate to draw certain merchant captains into positions of weakness and easy plunder. Captain Gampo’s spies where everywhere and word was that he had targeted Ahern and Hart’s merchant fleet as his next prize.

The next episode of Keelan Grey and Landon Hart’s journey begins in Hart’s Passion, the second Pirates and Petticoats novel.
 

Join them as Dr. Garrison and the pirate, Gampo, band together to destroy Hart, and steal his love, Keelan.

Hart’s Passion

Pirates & Petticoats Novel Two

Charleston, South Carolina

June 1811

If they were going to steal it, tonight would be the perfect time.

The moon was nothing more than a sliver in the sky, leaving the night nearly as dark as pitch. A single sentry strolled along the street in front of the warehouse. He passed the main doors and continued until he reached the far corner. He yawned, stretching his arms out wide. Removing his floppy hat, he scratched his head vigorously and then jammed the hat back on. After a lazy glance up and down the street, he pulled a bottle from his pocket and took a swig before he leaned up against the wall and yawned again.

A dog barked in the distance, provoking a shouted curse from one of the city’s sleepy residents. The sentry sank to his haunches, tipped the bottle to his mouth and then rested his head against the wall behind him. Once more he looked up and down the street. Finally, with a bored sigh he sat on the ground and placed his bottle within reach before resting his arms on his knees. Within minutes, his head slumped onto his forearms. The gentle sea swayed against the pilings with the easy rhythm of a rocking chair. The street was quiet except for the gently breaking waves and the soft snoring of the sentry.

Orvis Pike leaned around the corner and gestured to a pair of wagons waiting behind him. Two men slipped down and grasped the bridle of each horse and began to lead the teams forward. Suddenly, the loud ‘clop’ on the cobblestones made everyone freeze in stunned silence.

“One of the mufflings has fallen off,” whispered a driver.

“Crowe, you’d best check them all before we head on,” hissed the other driver. “And Pike! Check all the wheels!”

“Aye, Cap’n Gampo, sir.” Orvis muttered as he scampered hastily about, doing as he was told. He ran his hands over the strips of oiled leather covering each wheel. All metal parts were wrapped in strips of dark cloth to keep them from jingling with the horses’ movements. As soon as everything was secure, Crowe motioned for all to move out. The caravan stopped near the warehouse doors.
 

With the stealth of a shadow, Gampo descended from the lead wagon. Producing a key, he placed it in the lock and turned it until it gave a dull ‘click.’ After a quick glance toward the end of the building and the sleeping sentry, he pulled a glass bottle from his pocket and squatted by the door hinges and removed the cork with his teeth. After the hinges had been fully doused with the oil, the man stepped back and gently pulled one of the doors open a bit and then closed it again, testing. He repeated this procedure several more times. Satisfied he had eliminated any squeaks, he opened both doors wide.

One of the men gestured toward the snoring sentry near the corner. Gampo glanced at the man, noted the whiskey bottle next to him and gave a slight shake of his head. The other shrugged then stepped down and grabbed the halter of one of the horses and led it inside. The doors closed silently.

Once inside the warehouse, the men remained motionless, barely breathing. Hawkins struck a match to the candle wedged between the boards of the wagon seats.
 

“Crowe and Pike, take the blankets and cover the windows facing the street," Gampo directed in a harsh whisper. “Once they’re done, light your lanterns and get to work.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Crowe and Orvis Pike went about doing what their boss ordered. They all were well aware there was no room for error. Failing to execute even one small detail could get them caught. Getting caught would get them hanged. It gave the men strong impetus to do the job correctly.

An hour later the wagons were loaded with casks of brandy and whiskey, rolls of silk fabric, boxes of spices, ammunition and countless other treasures from across the sea. They snuffed out the lanterns and removed the blankets from the windows. Gampo was the last to exit. He glanced over at the slumbering sentry and chuckled. The poor tar would have a great deal of explaining to do when his employer arrived in the morning. Still smiling, Gampo reached into his pocket, pulled out the key and locked the doors.

“That ought to give ‘im something to think about," he mumbled to himself. Then he followed the wagons down the street.

The sentry shifted slightly. Steel blue eyes glinted from under the rim of his hat, as he watched the wagons pull away. After giving a slight wave to the roof of the boarding house across the street, an oil lamp flared in answer. Landon Hart rose and headed in the direction taken by the wagons seconds before.
 

“They turned east down the next street,” Landon whispered to Conal O’Brien, as they followed the path of the thieves, staying near the darker shadows. “They’re heading in the direction of those warehouses we scouted earlier.”
 

Conal, who was half a head taller than Landon and two stones heavier, nodded. “Hopefully to the one that contains the rest of our cargo. It’ll be harder to find the first half if they put this load in a different place.”

A couple weeks earlier, several wagonloads of goods from the hold of one of their damaged ships was stolen en route to a warehouse he’d rented. The worst part, was that thieves had severely injured a young galley boy in the process.
 

He and Conal had known it was a risky venture but the only way to find out where the first half of their goods were hidden, was to leave the rest vulnerable. Conal had made it known at the pub near the docks that they had rented the most secure warehouse in the city and had complete confidence in the quality of the locks. They were so convinced, he’d bragged, they had decided only one man was needed to guard the lot.
 

The thieves swallowed the bait and now Landon had his hook embedded deeply.
 

An ugly image of Keelan in the brutal arms of a pirate or leering privateer nudged its way to the forefront of Landon’s daydreams. He couldn’t get the fiery-haired vixen out of his mind. This was no time to be preoccupied with thoughts of a woman, but this wasn’t just any woman, it was his heart, his love. It was difficult to avoid thinking about how sweet her mouth tasted or how she smelled of jasmine and sunshine…how passionately her body curved into his…

Stop it.

It hadn’t been his intention to become entangled with her when they made port in Charleston. He and Conal O’Brien had just suffered a major loss of a third partner in their shipping business, Conal’s Uncle Fynn, at the hands of Gampo, a ruthless pirate. Vengeance was their objective. Fynn deserved no less.

They’d intentionally planned a trade route to include a stopover in Charleston so Fynn could meet with a Commodore George Grey, Keelan’s father. Fynn had been very secretive about his reasons why he wanted to meet with the commodore. So, following the run-in with Gampo, they tucked their ships in dry dock for repairs, then Landon and Conal decided to keep Fynn’s mysterious meeting out of curiosity more than anything.

It was there, at Twin Pines plantation, where he met Keelan, masquerading as a boy and dueling with swords with her father’s valet in a small meadow a short distance from the main house. It was only after he’d had given her a brief lesson in knife throwing that he the learned that boy was actually a young lady. Conal had found it highly amusing and had retold the story several times at the Whistling Pig Tavern, where they’d rented rooms.

 
What Conal didn’t see, occurred later the same morning. Landon had caught Keelan eavesdropping from the depths of the garden bushes. At the time, he had no idea she was the commodore’s daughter. He saw her as a curiosity. Up close she was more than that. She was smooth and lithe with the quickness of a boy and the curves of a woman.
 

 
Eyes wide like a startled doe and lush lips parted in surprise, she’d have bolted if her hair hadn’t been severely tangled in the branches. How could any normal man possibly
resist
the opportunity to kiss her?
 

She froze in shock at first of course, but after a moment her lips softened and she began to move her tongue with his. What had started out as a boyish prank soon became something over which he nearly lost control. Especially when he pressed his hips against hers and instead of pushing him away, she slid her hands over his forearms and pulled him closer. The only thing between his erection and her was…

Enough!

Focus on the task at hand, which
right now,
was retrieving their stolen cargo without getting killed.
 

Then, he’d locate Keelan and find out why she had not yet come to the docks. She’d promised to sail away with him on his ship, the
Desire
. He’d fallen in love with her. They were to be married. Unless…she’d changed her mind.
 

He couldn’t think about that now. There was work to be done.

Landon pulled a bottle from his pocket and took a mouthful of the amber liquid. He sloshed it around then spit it into his hands and rubbed it on his face and shirt. He handed the bottle to his friend.
 

“Seems a shame to waste such good whiskey,” Conal muttered sadly, as he repeated the same procedure.

Landon grinned. “Leave it to an Irishman to mourn the loss of a mouthful of whiskey.”
 

“Look who’s talkin’.”

Landon threw his arm over Conal’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”

The two men staggered down the alley.

Conal broke into song:
 

Oh, my wee lass is a fine, young lass if ever a lass there be…

Her tits as big as a bowl of figs
 

Hips broader than a wil…(burp)…low tree…