Keeper of My Dreams (St. John Series Book 4) (8 page)

He turned to find her standing in front of the window. Her long brown hair danced in the warm breeze. The hem of the shirt she was wearing blew slightly upwards, exposing the back of her thighs. As the hem raised, he could make out the slight curve of her buttocks. She caught the edge with her hand and smoothed it down over her derrière. He swallowed hard.

“What is chicky woman doing?”

London’s question brought him back. He crossed the room and looked out the window. Natasha was holding a stick and pounding the ground. She would then shout something and pound the ground again.

“Probably killing a snake.”

“Oh,” she replied as her eyes widened. Eli took notice of how large her pupils were; the blueness of her eyes was barely noticeable. Suddenly she stuck her head out the window. “Whack it again!”

Eli pulled her back inside. “Have you gone mad?”

The testy question caused London to pucker her mouth in annoyance. She turned towards Eli to complain about his reprimanding her encouragement of the serpent slaying, but her breath caught in her throat as she viewed his body. He was magnificent. She could make out every outline of his well-chiseled chest. There was a small patch of dark hair resting between his nipples. Her eyes traveled lower. She fought the desire to reach out and run her hand down the muscles of his washboard stomach. Her eyes traveled lower and noticed that his black pants sat low on his body. She licked her lips and looked back up. She felt the heat travel up her cheeks and was thankful the color was hidden by her sunburn. Her eyes locked with his. She realized he knew she was admiring his body. He raised a dark brow at her.

She was really liking this dream she was in. Her eyes traveled back to his firm chest and she poked it with her finger several times.

“You’re sooo muscly,” she said and then giggled.

“What?” he asked with derision.

“Muskelly. Mooseculy. You know lots of muscles,” she said and poked his chest again. “It’s like touching a firm melon.”

Eli captured her hand and roughly jerked it away from his chest.

She took one more admiring glance at his chest. “I think I should rest now,” she croaked as she turned.

He caught her by the upper arm. She looked down at his hand and then up to his eyes. He let go of her arm. She took a step and a pain-filled moan left her followed by a faint scream. Eli swooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed.

“I’ll let Natasha know you are awake.”

“Thank you for your assistance. And there is no need to get Natasha,” London replied as she sat down. “Besides, if there are serpents in your yard, let her kill them.”

“Egad, why would I do that? She’s liable to cook them for dinner.”

London crinkled her nose. “I am not eating snake.” She watched as Eli shook his head and then scratched his chest. “You should put a shirt on.”

His brows came together. “I believe I had one on until you took yours off.”

She flicked her hand in the air. She felt invigorated by this dream. “It was a gift to you from that woman.” Looking at him, her mouth dropped open. Since this was a fantasy, she would speak her mind and not be fearful, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. “She pays you for sex?! Not that I’m entirely sure what that entails presently.”

“No,” Eli snapped. “And this is not a conversation I think we should be having.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because we just met, that’s why. Because this is something that proper young ladies do not discuss. Because . . . because . . . well, just because.”

“Your point being?”

“I should have left you on that bloody beach,” he drolly replied.

“Then where would we be? I would have a worse sunburn, my leg would be horribly infected and you would just now be finding me. So this entire conversation would eventually take place, just at a later time.”

“Oh, no. You aren’t one of those ‘everything is preplanned’ people are you?” His frustration was apparent.

“No,” she said as she shrugged. She really liked this dream; it made her feel emboldened. “It’s destiny.”

“Same thing.”

“Destiny,” she corrected. “Now, are you a male prostitute?”

Eli tossed his hands in the air. “I give up,” Eli said as he walked towards the door.

“I’m sorry—would you prefer the term ‘Don Juan’?”

“You can’t remember your name, but you remember those terms? Brilliant. What did you do before becoming a victim of a shipwreck?”

“How should I know? I can’t remember,” she answered as she adjusted the sheet over her legs. “I won’t be inconveniencing you and your clients, will I?”

“I am not a prostitute!” he yelled at her.

“You don’t have to get so defensive.”

His jaw tightened. “You’re worse than Madison.”

“Is she one of your clients?”

“She’s my sister! And for the love of man, I am not a prostitute.” His face had reddened with anger.

“Just double-checking. One can never be too careful. I was propositioned before I came here. Guess it was because I was traveling alone.” Each word was coming out faster than the last. Just as soon as her statement was out, her eyes grew wide. “I was propositioned! I remember that! Although I do not recall where I was at.” Her brows drew together and she looked at Eli. Her serious expression was comical. “You don’t suppose I was a prostitute, do you?” She shook her head back and forth quickly, dismissing the thought. “Of course not. Those women are missing teeth and I have all mine . . . I think.” She took her finger and began examining her mouth. “Yes, I do. Anyway, I guess they’re missing teeth. I’m not entirely certain.”

Eli was frustrated. This woman was mad. That had to be the only logical explanation. She was insane. He took a step out into the hall.

“Where are you going?”

He turned quickly to face her. “Where am I going? I am going to arrange transportation for you to my mother’s. She can take care of you and your insanity.”

London gave him a forlorn look. “But I like it here.”

“You’ve only been here less than a day and only in this room!”

“But I still like it,” she pouted. “Can I stay if I promise not to bother you while you’re working?”

“I am not a prostitute!”

“Wah, I should ‘ope nah, Masta Eli,” Natasha said behind him.

Eli turned to face his housekeeper. His chest heaved up and down in annoyed breaths. His face was red with frustration and his fists were clamped tightly at his sides. “Natasha, please arrange to have London’s belongings transported to my parents’ home.”

“Who es London?”

Eli gestured angrily to the woman in the bed. “Her. The insane woman in this room!”

A concerned expression crossed Natasha’s face. “Wat belongs? Shi was wearin’ only ah tattered shift an I tossed dat away.”

“Fine. Find her something appropriate to wear and then have Albert drive her to my parents’ home.”

“But I don’t want to go,” London whined.

“Shi canna guh noweh, Masta Eli. Shi ah still too weak. De trip would be a setback fah har.”

“I don’t care.” He gestured angrily at the door. “I want her out!”

London lowered her eyes to slits. “You want me to leave. Fine!” she said as she uncovered her legs and attempted to stand. She took several steps before yelling in pain. She began to fall but caught herself using the side table.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eli asked.

Her dream was not turning out well—unpleasant, in fact. “How the hell should I know? You wanted me out, so I’m leaving. I don’t know where I’m at, who I am, or have any clothing. But that’s all right. Someone will take pity on me. Look at me. I look like a monster! My lips are bloodied and my face is deformed with blisters and welts. Not to mention my leg has a gaping hole. So rest assured someone will take pity on me and either grant me aid or shoot me dead. Or maybe the flies will smell my rotting flesh and eat me. But don’t worry, I will be out of your hair.”

Natasha shot Eli a look that told him to stop her.

“Fine,” he mumbled to Natasha. He walked over to London. He watched the proud independent woman attempt to walk. “Natasha wants you to stay.”

“Thank you, Natasha, but I cannot stay where I am not wanted.”

Eli turned towards Natasha. Natasha began twirling the chicken foot around her neck between her fingers. He took a deep breath.

“I . . . do . . . not . . . want . . . you . . . to . . . leave,” Eli forcefully answered.

“Say it like you mean it,” London pouted.

Eli took a frustrated breath, and through gritted teeth, said, “London, please feel free to stay as long as you like.”

She looked at him. “And?”

“And what?”

“I would like an apology.”

“For what?!”

“You called me crazy.”

“You called me a prostitute.” The rancor in his voice caused her to feel a slight tinge of guilt.

“No, I was asking if you were one. You never corrected me,” she replied.

“I did, too!”

“Did not.”

“Did, too!”

“Well, I do not recall if you did.”

Eli turned to leave only to find Natasha watching the incident, chicken foot in hand. Taking a frustrated breath, he said, “Fine. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“I think you owe me one, too.”

She looked towards the ceiling and giggled.

“London?!” Eli snapped.

“Hmmm?” she questioned as she looked to him.

“You owe me an apology.”

“I do?” she questioned with confusion.

“Yes. You called me a prostitute.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry I mistook you for a prostitute.”

“Now, see dere. Aal es betta,” Natasha replied as she walked into the room. She smiled at Eli and patted his arm.
Yes, sir, this woman is exactly what he needs.

Chapter Ten

It has been five days since London’s strange dream, which she learned—to her mortification—was not a dream but actual reality. When she did see Eli, he dismissed her with a wave of his hand or ignored her completely—which was fine by her. He seemed to be a man who was in a constant ill disposition. She would hear him yell at Natasha. She would hear him yell at Albert. She would hear him yell at the other servants. At night she would even hear him yell at Meredith—whoever that was.

Her new friends came by and visited with her twice. She liked them. Both women were nice and quite informative. Again, they enlightened her on how she ended up washed ashore. It turned out that a ship that was supposed to be arriving from England six days ago did not arrive. After a little inquiry from some of the locals, it was determined that the ship was attacked by pirates. London shook her head. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that she would have survived a pirate attack.

While visiting with Madison and Kristina, she had learned a wealth of information about the St. John family. The father, Robert, was the Earl of Hyntington, and was considered a black sheep in England. His wife, Elizabeth, was the daughter of a Marquess. They were betrothed at birth. The couple had nine children, eight boys and one girl. Madison excitedly informed London about the new family member, Kristina’s husband, Max. The women spoke extensively about the family’s business and who held what responsibility. Madison’s father-in-law, Jonathan, was Robert’s business partner and the governor of Eleuthera. He also ran a small mercantile store that sold some of the goods Emerald Shipping transported. Eli, the oldest, was the next in line for the title of Earl, and currently held the courtesy title of Viscount of Dinridge. He was the financial guru of the group. His twin, Jacob, was a captain along with Nathan and Noah. Matthew managed their London office. Michael arranged for shipping contracts. The last set of twins, Oliver and Owen, were carpenters. Madison’s husband, Nicholas, handled the shipping schedules. And Max managed the Nassau office as well as security measures. This was truly a family business.

Madison and Kristina eagerly spoke of their children and the love they each had for their husbands. From what London could gather, Nicholas and Max both doted over their wives. But of the two, Max was the most protective of his. He had even killed several men over Kristina.

“But whatever you do, do not mention Max’s mother to him,” Kristina informed London.

“Why not?”

A somber expression came to Kristina. “She was an evil woman. If you do not want to light Max’s temper, you do not ever mention his upbringing. It is a sensitive subject to him. He tries to act like it does not bother him—did not bother him—but it does, still to this day. He is a proud man who has had a hard life.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“It was nice visiting with you, London, but we must be going. Max will send a search party out to look for us if I do not get Kris back by four. We will come by and visit with you tomorrow.” A teasing smile covered Madison’s face.

“Thank you, but that is not necessary. You both have families that need you more than I.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Madison replied, with a flick of her wrist. “Besides, our little visits give Nicholas and Max a little alone manly time.” Madison drew her brows together. “Just as long as they don’t kill each other. I swear everyday there is a new bruise somewhere on Nicholas.”

“Max, too,” Kristina replied. She gave a mischievous smile. “Although, I do like tending to them.”

“Kristina!” Madison playful exclaimed as she gave a small giggle. Madison turned to see London’s shocked expression. “Oh, pay no never mind to us. Kristina acted like this the first day I met her . . . talking about seducing her husband . . . and I had only known her less than five minutes.”

London smiled. It must be wonderful to have such a good friend.

Madison stood and walked over to the mirrored dresser. “Natasha asked me to give you your medication before we leave.”

London groaned and held up her hand. “Not that. I swear she’s giving me something other than pain medication. That vile concoction makes me behave in strange ways. I say and do things that are not in my nature.”

Madison smiled mischievously. “Like call my brother a prostitute?” At London’s blush she gave a small giggle. “I would have loved to have witnessed that conversation.” She walked over to the window and looked at the grounds outside. “Are you certain you do not want any?”

“I am positive. Besides, my leg still aches, but not as badly.”

Madison held the cup of medication out the window and poured it out. “Oops, clumsy me.”

London laughed. Kristina smiled.

Madison gave London a small hug, careful to not touch her blistered skin. “We’ll call again tomorrow.” She turned towards Kristina and motioned towards the door. “After you, Mrs. Hart.”

London watched her two new friends leave. She liked the women. They were outspoken and brazen, but she still liked them.

London picked up a book and began to read. She flipped through the pages of the boring title. Laying the book down, she looked around her room. It hadn’t even been a week since she awakened and yet she was bored. She was starting to get restless. She had not left this room since she was brought here. She worried on her lower lip briefly and then stood up. The pain in her leg caused her to grimace. Cautiously walking over to the chair, she put on the green robe that Madison had given her yesterday and headed out the door.

It took her some time, but she eventually made her way down the stairs. Once at the bottom, she realized she had no earthly idea where she was going. She shrugged her shoulders and continued, letting her curiosity get the best of her. At every door she passed, she would open it and peer inside. She found a breakfast nook and two closets before she reached the study. When she opened the door, she noticed the elaborate furnishings, like one would see in a palace. The walls were covered in dark highly polished wood. There was a dark mahogany desk and matching chairs. London snarled her nose. What a bleak, depressing room. Her eyes caught a glimpse of light trying to enter through the drawn draperies. She hobbled over to the draperies and threw them back. The room was instantly flooded with sunlight, making it appear cheerier.

She looked around the room and noticed the wall of books. As she studied the room, she spied a painting on the far wall and walked over to it. The woman was beautiful. She had high cheekbones and a small snubbed nose. The woman had her long black hair down, resting on her shoulders. There was warmth to her soft brown eyes. She had the pristine white complexion, which many of the elite strive for. London could tell by this woman’s pose that she was of the upper crust.

A rustling of paper caught her attention. She turned to find several sheets blowing off the desk. London raced over and gathered the flying paper. She collected the escaping sheets and placed them back on the desk. She glanced down and noticed that they were from ledgers. She walked around the desk and studied the papers. Absentmindedly, she sat down in the large leather chair and began looking at the papers.

As she studied the ledgers she realized the figures were all wrong. Rummaging through the desk drawers, she managed to find a quill and ink. She dipped the quill into the ink well and began to excitedly work. As she worked, she began to realize how easily the figures came to her. Finally, something to do to pass her day.

* * * *

Eli was in a foul mood. He went to visit Marina and all she wanted to do was discuss London. She gave him an ultimatum, either move London out or never call on her again. He politely informed her that she could be easily replaced.

“You are not the only title-hungry wench on this island seeking my companionship.” Marina drew her hand back to slap Eli, only to have it caught in mid-air. “Do not try to strike me, Marina, for I will hit back.”

“Go to hell, Eli.”

“That is exactly where you would have sent me if you had gotten your hands on my title. So rest assured, you will no longer be in the running to claim the title of Viscountess, not that you ever were.”

“What are you saying, Eli? That you were just using me for my body?” Marina replied, placing her head in her hands as she pretended to sob.

“Come now. We both know those are fake tears. There is no love lost between us. You were after a title and I needed a warm body.”

Marina’s head shot upward and her eyes narrowed to slits. “You will pay for what you have done to me. To my reputation!”

“What reputation? The one of being a Jezebel or the one of you killing your first husband?”

“Get out,” she hissed.

“Gladly.”

Eli left Marina’s house and felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The feeling of relief he experienced as he left Marina’s home was replaced with dread as he met his father on the road. Robert was on his way to the docks to oversee the delivery of a very expensive piece of furniture that Elizabeth had ordered. As they discussed the delivery, Robert nonchalantly informed Eli that he would be by sometime to go over the books.

“All is in order,” Eli lied. “Feel free to stop by anytime.”

“I will allow your visitor to recover a little longer first. I’ll stop by in a few days’ time. We’ll have dinner afterwards.”

“I will inform Natasha to prepare something sensible.”

Robert laughed. “That would be grand. The last time we dined at your home she served something with the head still attached. Strange woman. You know your mother does not care for her.”

“I know. But she was Meredith’s servant. I cannot let her go. She is all I have left of her.”

Robert looked at his son. “Natasha is a human being, not a belonging.”

“I know. But every time I look at her, I feel closer to Meredith.”

“I always feel like she’s putting a curse on me,” Robert said with a teasing expression. “Good talking with you, Son, but I must be off. If Owen breaks that table, your mother will make me sleep in the stables.”

“If she didn’t kill you over your announcement the other night, then it’s doubtful a scratch on the table would do it.”

Robert laughed. “That was a hell of a fight I had with her when we returned home. I’m still on her bad side. I have to make it up to her somehow. The sofa is taking a toll on my back.” Robert noticed the change in his son’s demeanor. “You know, Eli, I never meant for this to be a hardship for you. I thought you would be more accepting of your brother.”

“Accepting? You announce in front of the entire family that we have an older bastard brother and you want me to be accepting? A little warning would have been nice. The only one thrilled was Madison.”

“Your sister has a different perspective on things.”

“As do I.” Eli looked away and then back to his father. “This will take some time to adjust to. I still don’t trust him. He looks too much like that damn pirate that assisted with Madison’s abduction.”

“That is just a coincidence, Eli. Don’t base your accusations on your opinion of his character. Nicholas vouched for him during the time frame of Madison’s kidnapping.”

“For all we know Nicholas could have been a part of it as well.”

“Eli St. John! That is your family you are disrespecting.”

Eli gave his father a tight smile. “My apologies. But I still don’t trust him.”

“He has never asked for anything.”

“He will.”

“He has known his entire life that I was his father. If he wanted to, he could have ruined this family but did not. Despite your feelings, he is your brother, and hopefully you will grow to have the same feelings towards him as you do your other brothers. Now I must be off.”

Eli watched his father ride towards the harbor. “Don’t count on it,” he mumbled as his father rode away.

Eli turned his gaze from his father’s departing image and spurred his horse towards his home. As he rode, the warm ocean breeze carried the scents of jasmine and honeysuckle and they invaded his senses. He loved this time of year. It was always peaceful and tranquil on the island.

Once at his estate, he handed the reins of his horse to Albert and walked into his home through the back entrance. Approaching his study, he drew his brows together as he noticed the sunlight filtering through the open door. Anger invaded him. His study was off limits to everyone. It was his sanctuary. The only reason the family meeting occurred in this room was due to its size. They needed a room large enough to accommodate the entire St. John clan.

As he approached, he could feel a breeze coming down the hallway. The draperies and windows were kept closed for a reason and now it seemed that Natasha had taken the liberty of opening them. He was going to have a word with her. She constantly scolded him about the dark, depressing room, telling him it needed sunshine and a woman’s touch. He reminded her that she could open all the blasted draperies in the entire house, but the study was his refuge from the world and he wanted it kept that way . . . closed-off from others.

He walked with determined strides into his study and saw red at the image at his desk. “What are you doing in here?” he questioned, his voice rude and gritty.