All eyes turned toward her.
“They made it to Virginia," Arianna continued, a smug smile spreading across her face.
"Oui.” Vincent eyebrows rose.
Arianna’s gaze touched Keldon’s. She wanted to impress him, let him know she grasped a memory. She chuckled. "I would have loved to have seen President Madison’s face. I bet he turned all shades of purple.” She waved her hand. “He blamed John Armstrong for the capture and the burning of Washington. I believe he decided to name James Monroe as interim Secretary of War, am I right?”
"Where did ye hear this information?" Leighton said with such venom that Arianna would have backed up a space, if she hadn’t been sitting down.
"It’s common knowledge,” she answered him sharply. “Check your history books, if you don't believe me.” How dare he question her?
Keldon stepped in. "Enough. Annabelle, why don’t ye play us a tune?” He gently helped her to her feet and led her to the harpsichord.
"I thought you said I never played before," she hissed at him, trying to break his hold.
"Aye, I dinnae think ye did, but ye proved me wrong.” He put pressure on her arm until she was forced to sit. "Now, be a good lass for once and play somethin' sweet."
"Did you know your Scottish accent becomes more pronounced when you’re angry?"
His eyes flashed in a now familiar display of impatience. "Just play.”
Arianna flinched at the silken thread of warning in his voice. What had she done wrong, anyway? All night she’d been the perfect hostess, and she refused to be treated as a naughty child now.
He wanted her to play something sweet. Well, too bad.
Her mind raced. She wanted to pick just the right song for him, one where his hair would stand up on end.
Her eyes narrowed and a slow smile spread across her face. She ran her fingers over the harpsichord with a sweet melody, pretending to do as her ill-tempered husband bid. His smug smile riled her further. As he raised his glass of wine to his lips, she let loose, pounding on the keys.
Keldon choked on his drink.
"Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!" she screeched.
Keldon’s eyes bulged and a vein popped out at his temple.
She couldn’t wait to give him the finale. She stood, throwing the bench behind her. She swayed to the music and enjoyed every second of Keldon's discomfort. The words bolted from her lips so everyone could hear.
When she finished she turned and curtsied to the stunned guests. Elizabeth eyes fluttered like butterflies as she clutched her throat.
Bernard turned red and quickly pulled out his flask.
Doc Hathaway clutched his wife as she threatened to faint.
Nicholas smirked, but said nothing.
Vincent Aubrey, bless his soul, smiled and clapped his hands. "Brava! Brava! Where did you learn to play with such finesse?"
Keldon stepped in obviously believing he had to defuse the situation. "I must apologize."
"No, no. What a wonderful surprise, my friend," Vincent complimented. "Just what we needed to liven the party. No?”
Before Keldon could turn his wrath on Arianna, she exited out the French doors. “I’m not sorry,” she called behind her. However, she had a feeling she’d pay for her stunt later. Maybe she should have thought her revenge through. She did have to live with Keldon, and he was less than pleased with her already.
Arianna took the lighted stone path toward the gardens. When she reached one of the benches, she plopped herself down. The cold marble felt cool beneath her.
She took a well-needed breath. Now what was she going to do? She could always apologize. “I don’t want to. He deserved to be embarrassed. Who does he think he is bossing me around?” She wrapped her arms across her chest.
Enjoying her reprieve, she was put out when she heard footsteps coming down the path. “Here he comes,” she uttered under her breath, preparing herself for battle. He wouldn’t drag her back to the house without a fight.
Her mouth dropped open when not Keldon but Nicholas Sherborn with his flashy smile and winking dimples strode around the corner.
She stood, an uneasy feeling spread through her. She looked past Nicholas’ shoulder to see if Keldon had followed close behind.
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” he told her.
This didn’t put her at ease. “I should go back to the house. Keldon will wonder where I am.” She took a step, but Nicholas blocked her. “Mr. Sherborn, I—”
He gathered her into his arms and smothered her words with a kiss, while he maneuvered his way back to the bench, lying her down upon the hard, cold surface.
Arianna was so shocked she didn't think to scream. His lips crushed against hers, bruising her mouth. She pushed at his chest, but her action only excited him more.
Finally, he came up for air when he realized she wasn’t enjoying their little bout of passion as much as he was.
"What's the bloody problem with you?” He moved away and allowed Arianna to sit up.
"Me!” Her voice came out in a shrill. “What's my problem? Are you mad?"
"I know I shouldn't take such chances here, not with your husband so close. But I couldn't wait a moment longer. It has been far too long. I’m going bleedin’ bonkers without you."
“This can’t be happening.” She shook her head bewildered over what took place. She looked at Nicholas, her eyes widening. No, it couldn’t be possible.
"Come on Annabelle,” Nicholas continued. “Don't be cross. I told you I had no choice. I had to report back to Captain Stevens."
Arianna stared at him, a flicker of apprehension coursing through her. "Are we having an affair?” She feared his answer, but she had to know.
"Ah, Annabelle.” He brought her closer to him. "I knew you'd come around.” His lips were on her again. It took all her will power not to scratch his eyes out. What in the world did she see in him? With a firm hand, she pushed him away, keeping her palm on his chest.
“You're right," she began. "I am a little cross. I haven’t heard from you. You never phoned.”
"Phone? What does that mean?"
Arianna realized this was another item of mystery, to everyone but her. Was she in another dimension? Maeve’s explanation of how she came to be here was starting to sound plausible. She tried again. "You didn't write me."
"You know bloody well I couldn't. Do you want us to be caught? What good would I be to you if that happened, Love? You still want to get rid of your husband don't you?"
Good God! She wasn't only an adulteress, but a potential murderess, too. "We weren't really going to…uh…kill him. Were we?"
Nicholas chuckled. "You can be so incredibly naive sometimes. If he’s arrested for piracy, they won't be asking him to tea."
Arianna felt sick to her stomach. This was all too much. Keldon was a pirate!
"Annabelle?"
"Yes, I'm listening," she said even though panic was rioting within her, and desperate to break free.
"Have you found out anything we can use against him?"
"I'm a spy, too?"
Her questioned seemed to amuse him. He actually chuckled. Arianna was getting a little perturbed. This wasn’t funny.
"I'm sorry, Love. I'm the spy, but duty calls me elsewhere and I was hoping you might have uncovered something which could aid us.” His eyes clung to hers. "How did you know about Madison replacing Armstrong, anyway? The news hasn't reached these parts yet.” He didn't wait for her to answer. Instead he leaned over and kissed her cheek.
Arianna clasped her hands together so not to slap him.
"I guess you're more of a spy than you know, Love. I would like nothing more than to stay here with you, but I have to make my departure before Keldon discovers us.” He stood with a smile, showing off his dimples and white teeth. "You're one clever woman. Even I wouldn't have thought to make a scene with that simply dreadful music you played. What a perfect ploy to enable us to meet in private. I'll contact you soon, Love.” H
is mouth swooped down to capture hers. Before she could tell him to stop doing that, he was gone, disappearing into the night, as though he had never been there.
Arianna slowly stood, her knees wobbling. Could she trust what Nicholas Sherborn told her? Was she really having an affair? She covered her mouth, stifling the scream building in her throat.
She walked toward the house, dragging her feet. “My husband’s a pirate,” she whispered under her breath. Weren't they cold-blooded killers, only interested in their own greed? Didn't they make people walk the plank? Arianna stopped short. Who was she to pass judgment? She was having an affair and planned to have her husband killed.
A small voice in her head shouted, “Run! Escape! Get as far away from this madness as you can.” Unfortunately running wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, where was she to go? She needed more information. She needed to know Keldon’s plans.
She approached the house, keeping to the shadows. She peered in the French doors. Samuel, Leighton and Keldon were there, all the others thank goodness, were gone. The doors stood ajar and she could hear their conversation. She’d eavesdrop. The sin was no worse than the others that were piling up around her.
"We have the information for the next ship. It be carryin' silks and spices and other luxuries, the verra cargo we have been waitin' for.” Leighton was pacing, obviously impatient for action.
"Ye doonae think, I ken this?” Keldon ran his hands through his hair in a detached motion. "But I feel we need to wait. What is yer mind on this, Samuel?”
"I think it wud be most foolish ter move too quick. Dere'd be other ships. We only have one life.”
"Aye.” Keldon nodded. "I say we wait, then."
"Blessed saints! I be far too auld to be this here patient.” Curses fell from Leighton’s mouth as he stormed out of the room.
From the shadows, Arianna watched Keldon light his pipe. He didn’t seem put out by Leighton’s childish temper tantrum.
"Leighton is cranky. No?” Samuel grimaced.
Keldon chuckled and removed the pipe from his mouth. "Aye. But he's a good friend. I wouldnae want to be at sea without him watchin’ my back."
Samuel sighed. “Nor I.”
"We should keep an eye on Annabelle,” Keldon said between puffs on his pipe. “She may no’ remember who she is, but again this could verra well be a ploy. Too much is at stake here. I am responsible for men's lives, and I have no wish to see nay one's neck danglin’ from a tree."
Arianna put her hand to her throat and swallowed hard. Keldon may not have come straight out and said, ‘Hey, I’m a pirate’, but she heard enough to know Nicholas spoke the truth. She leaned against the side of the house and closed her eyes. What was she going to do? She had a duty to stop Keldon from hurting anyone else on the open sea, but something made her hesitate. Call it a crazy hunch. Keldon could be irritable, but he didn’t strike her as a man without a thread of integrity. She couldn’t confront him until she had all the facts.
Keldon claimed he was going to postpone his plans. Maybe she could find out what made him turn to piracy. Maybe she could change his ways. But how? The man didn’t trust her. He didn’t like her for that matter.
"Where did Miss Annabelle get ter?” Arianna heard Samuel ask, causing her to panic. She couldn't be discovered or she would never be able to convince Keldon to trust her. She lifted her dress and nearly sprinted back down the path to the interior of the garden. Luckily for her by the time Keldon found her, she’d composed herself at least enough so she didn’t appear as if she were out of breath.
Keldon eyed her with suspicion, but she met his gaze and held her chin up. "Do ye plan on bein’ out here all night? It will be dark once the servants put out the sconces.”
Arianna looked up at him. "It all depends."
"Aye?” Keldon puffed on his pipe wondering what she was going to demand.
"Are you angry with me?"
"Angry?” His eyebrows rose in question, then it dawned on him what she meant. He had been so preoccupied with his dilemma at hand, he had already forgotten about her making a scene with her unruly music fiasco. After he had gotten over the initial shock, he’d been amused by her performance. She made a spectacle of herself in front of guests. Something she would have never done before the accident. Her behavior intrigued him. "Nay. Come back to the house, it’s late.”
Arianna walked quietly beside him, allowing him to escort her to her room. He couldn’t help but noticed her creased brow. "Is there something amiss?"
"What? No," she stammered. She opened her bedroom door, but turned to look at him as if she had an afterthought. "I’ll be a better hostess next time.”
His right eyebrow lifted, but before he could process her declaration, she assaulted him with another.
“You really shouldn't smoke. Don't you read? Smoking is bad for your health."
He took his pipe out of his mouth. “Annabelle—”
“Goodnight, Keldon.”
He let loose a breath of disbelief when she shut the door in his face for the second time today.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Arianna couldn’t fall asleep when she had a million questions. Why didn't her husband sleep with her? Was this why she had turned her attentions to Nicholas Sherborn? And did Keldon find his affections, elsewhere too? She gritted her teeth at the thought.
She hit her pillow with her fist, tossed and turned, until she thought she would go stark raving mad. She switched to her back and stared up at the ceiling, an unfamiliar ceiling.
“Who am I?”
Her only reply was the sound of rain pitter-pattering against her window. She listened, waiting to be lulled to sleep. Nothing happened. The drops fell faster and she had the urge to feel the rain against her face. What would be the harm? No one would have to know.
She could slip outside and...
The desire too strong to ignore, she threw back her covers and jumped out of bed. She quickly found her robe and put it on, securing the satin ribbon around her waist. The house would be dark so she lit the candle on her nightstand. She glanced down at her bare feet and shrugged. She wouldn’t catch a chill; the night was still warm.
She opened her door and peered out into the awaiting darkness. “Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,” Arianna whispered, stifling a chuckle. She must be quiet or she’d be caught before she made it to the door. A rush of excitement filled her as she tiptoed toward the foyer. As she passed Keldon’s study, she halted. The door stood ajar and the hairs on her arm stood up. Was someone in there? She shook her head of the silly notion. Everyone had retired for the night.
When she reached the front door, she placed her candleholder on the small wooden table. Since the candle wouldn’t stay lit out in the rain, it would be useless to her.
She threw open the door, and the warm, sweet smell of wet earth hit her nostrils. “Ah, just what the doctor ordered.” She stepped out and shut the door behind her.
Keldon hadn’t been able to sleep and had gone downstairs to brood over his predicament. His jaw dropped open when his wife peered into the study. Dressed in white and with her shimmering pale hair cascading down her back, she looked like a spirit.
She had paused at the threshold and he had held his breath sure she had seen him, but then she turned away. When he heard the front door open and close, he rose from his seat to investigate. He spotted the candle she had left behind on the table. Why did she go outside? Curious, he walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain to see where she headed.
He blinked in surprise.
She twirled around in the rain with her face turned skyward. “What in damnation?” She’d be soaked head to toe. Blast it all. It was in the middle of the night and she wasn’t properly dressed! The woman had lost her senses. He let the curtain fall and marched to the front door.
Unaware she had company, she laughed as she danced barefoot in the moonlight. He’d never seen her so free. His gaze traveled the length of her and his breath caught in h
is throat. Her drenched nightdress revealed every lush curve of her body. “Dear God, she is mad.” He must have spoken the words aloud for her gaze locked onto him and her smile slid from her face as if the rain had washed it away.
Her hand flew to her throat. “Keldon.”
“Aye.” He stared at her waiting for an explanation.
She brushed a wet strand away from her face without uttering a word. Lightning cracked the sky and she looked up, her brow furrowing.
“Annabelle, what in God’s name are ye doin’?”
“Isn’t obvious?” She twirled around again. “Weeeeee!”
“Annabelle!” Keldon’s voice boomed like thunder.
She turned to look at him. “Oh go away, fuddy-duddy.” She did a pirouette and bowed as if she was on stage performing for him.
“Ach, lass, get out of the rain before ye catch yer death.”
“What do you care?” This time she glided by the length of the porch and back.
He pursed his lips together. He shouldn’t care. His life had been predictable before her accident. She did what she wanted, and he had his life. He should turn around and leave her to her insanity. However, she wasn’t herself and his conscience wouldn’t allow him to abandon her. If she remained out here, she would most likely come down with pneumonia and… “Annabelle!”
“What now?” She sounded annoyed with him.
“Stop this nonsense and come out of the rain,” he demanded, deciding he needed to take a firm hold over the situation, but obviously his contemptuous tone only served to irk her.
Her chin angled up and she narrowed her eyes as she put her hands on her slim hips. “Make me.”
“Make ye,” he sputtered. “Make ye!” She had the gall to taunt him. He flew off the stairs.
Her eyes widened and she bolted, but he caught her by her waist before she could make her escape. He threw her drenched body over his shoulders without a care he’d be soaked, too.
“Put me down.” She beat her fist against his back.
“I’m warnin’ ye. Ye better stop yer thrashin’.”
Karen Michelle Nutt Page 5
