“Maeve I can’t believe your fantastic story of how I switched places with the evil Annabelle like there was some twist of fate at work. Please leave me alone," she pleaded.
Maeve knew there was no convincing her, especially in her present state of mind. With a heavy heart, she left the room. If only Arianna would believe who she really was, all this could be resolved. Maybe she could shake some sense into Keldon. It was worth a try.
She found him in the study, nursing a glass of whiskey. He hadn’t been to bed and still wore the clothes he had on yesterday. His hair was unbound and wild as his bloodshot eyes. Maeve took a deep breath for courage. "Mista Keldon, kin I say somethin'?
He acknowledged her with a nod.
"You have ter trust your heart.” She ventured a little closer. "You know dat Miss Arianna loves you. She not hurt you fer nothin'."
His eyes narrowed to where they were just slits below two dark eyebrows. "Oh but ye are wrong, Maeve. She's already hurt me more than ye will ever know. I willnae trust her again.” His green eyes flashed, revealing his tormented soul. “Now leave me. I want to be left alone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Arianna hadn’t seen Keldon for days. He rose early and took his meals late. When he refused to sleep in the same room, Arianna moved her belongings back to the other room.
“You shud not give Mista Keldon the consideration. It’s his own stubbornness that keeps him sleeping in a chair.”
“It’s my fault he’s miserable, Maeve. I broke his heart. I won’t stay in his room when I know he doesn’t want me there.”
“Ah…” She waved her hand at her in frustration. “You’s jest as foolish as he is.”
Keldon wanted to seek out Arianna’s company. He yearned for her smile, her laugh. He wanted to hold her in his arms. He missed her, but he refused to go to her. He wouldn’t play the fool.
He spent most of his time outside in the fields or down by the water, anywhere he didn’t have to be tortured by seeing her dispirited blue eyes, imploring him to forgive her. He wouldn’t do it, not this time.
After a week of this torture, he decided it was time, to venture out again. He set up a meeting in Charleston with Vincent to discuss their departure. With Arianna’s betrayal, his promise to stay on shore didn't matter any longer.
"We put out to sea at the end of the week,” Keldon announced as he approached.
Vincent raised an eyebrow. There were black smudges under Keldon’s eyes and few days’ growth on his usually smooth face. "What is troubling you, my friend?"
"It is nothin'.” Keldon avoided meeting his gaze.
"Ah, it is as I have expected. You are having trouble with your lovely wife. Do not worry. I know of these things from my brother-in-law. A woman in their delicate state can be quite moody. It will not last. Why Chantal—"
"Enough!” Keldon cut him off sharply.
Shocked at his rudeness made Vincent fear something had happened. "Is Arianna having trouble with her pregnancy?"
“If ye doonae mind, I am in no mood to be discussin’ my wife. We have more important matters of concern, which I would verra much like to go over with ye.”
“As you wish, but let me buy you a drink. You look as if you need one.”
“Aye.”
“I almost forgot.” Vincent halted him and pulled out an envelope from his coat pocket. “The boy was on his way to deliver this to you. I took the liberty of being responsible for it.”
Keldon stared wide-eyed at the envelope, realizing what he held.
“Are you going to open it?”
“Nay, I already know the contents.”
“Is it bad news?”
Keldon shook his head. “Nay, ‘tis my freedom.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
After everyone was sound asleep, Keldon sat down behind his desk and opened the envelope. He stared at the divorce papers. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten all about them. He should be rejoicing. He could leave and never look back.
He shoved the papers in his desk, slamming the drawer shut. “It’s what ye wanted, Buchanan,” he mumbled to himself without conviction.
He rose from his seat and headed toward the stairs, berating himself for wanting to see Arianna one last time before he set out to sea. He entered her room and walked over to the bed. He stared down at her so peaceful in her slumber with her bewitching face—fine bone structure, full kissable lips. Her thick lashes rested on her cheeks, a dark contrast to her hair that framed her porcelain skin like shimmering moonbeams.
He held his breath as his groin jerked, betraying him. He could pretend he didn’t desire her, but it would be a lie. He wanted to touch her, feel every curve come alive as he caressed her. He wanted to bury himself as deeply as he could within her and not come out. How could he hate her and love her at the same time?
With an aching heart, he backed away from her, knowing if he didn’t he’d do something stupid like kiss her.
He turned to leave, but froze at the sound of her voice.
"Please wait.” The pleading in her voice made his heart catch and he cursed himself for the maddening inability to break free from her.
"Are you leaving?" she whispered.
He sensed with those words the true meaning behind them. She asked if he was going to return. He honestly didn’t have the answer.
He turned to look at her.
She was sitting up in bed, waiting.
"I’m settin’ sail.” Then he decided to add, "For a while.”
"Oh.”
Was it relief he heard in her voice? He was not sure. The shadows hid her face. He couldn't stay any longer. It was difficult enough to be near her when she slept, but with her awake and to hear her sweet voice, it was too much to endure.
"Keldon.” She called out to him, hoping to stall him for just a little while longer. She wanted to tell him she loved him and that she was so sorry for everything. She yearned to tell him she would do anything he asked of her, if only he would give her one more chance. However, she knew groveling wouldn’t earn her respect in his eyes. He didn’t trust her and they needed trust to make a marriage work. She held back what her heart wanted and the true words went unsaid. "Please be careful."
His only response was the gentle closing of the bedroom door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Vincent wasn’t sure what he was going to tell Bernadette, but he knew he couldn’t leave without some kind of explanation.
Their relationship had started to take on a new meaning, but it was still fragile. He had lain low, feeling out the residence of Charleston to see if they suspected him of being a pirate. It appeared they thought him a gentleman. His refined schooling his parent’s forced on him came in handy for something after all.
Vincent wanted to settle down and he would have to tell Keldon. This run would be his last.
He found Bernadette in the garden. She wore a gown of moss green, matching jacket and her hair pulled up above her head in a twist. Very fetching, he thought. She was beautiful, slim but with soft curves. God help him, he wanted her.
She must have sensed him for she turned her head and looked up with a smile. “How did your meeting go?” she asked in English. She still had trouble mastering some of the words, but she was improving every day.
“That is what I’ve come to talk to you about. I…” How could he ask her to wait for him? She deserved so much better and yet he couldn’t let her go.
She closed the distance between them and she reached for his hand. He looked at her questionably. A hint of a smile shadowed her sweet face. “You go to sea again?”
She didn’t want him to go, he knew that, but he also knew she wouldn’t hold him back. He gently caressed her face. “Oh, my Little Bear. I never thought leaving you would be so difficult.”
Hope lit her eyes as she searched his. “You will miss me, then? No?”
He nodded. “Oui. Very much so, but I cannot stay. I do promise you that I’ll be back. I rented the house for a
year. May I hope that you will be here on my return?”
Knowledge flashed in her eyes, understanding what he asked her and she nodded. “I be here waiting for you always.”
A primitive force inside him demanded he sweep her into his arms and declare his love. Only protocol, held him back. He wanted to do everything right by her. She deserved to be treated with respect that had been denied her from others. He raised her hand to his lips bestowing the gentlest of kisses, sealing the promise to return. “Then I shall not tarry.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Keldon was relentless on the sea and with his crew. Any vessel that looked apt to board Keldon demanded it. Loaded down with valuables, the Good Intent was forced to head into port to lighten the load.
The men couldn’t have been happier with their good fortune. Keldon put on a good show of being contented, but the ones closest to him knew his soul was troubled.
Samuel and Vincent could only speculate that his troubles existed with Arianna, but no matter how many times they approached him, he cleverly avoided their attempts to draw out the truth. Keldon had become so withdrawn they were afraid for his welfare. They knew he couldn’t possibly go on with the relentless pace he set for himself. As for the anger, he held onto—he was on the verge of exploding. It was only a matter of when and where.
"We set sail on the evenin’ tide," Keldon announced to Vincent only moments after they stepped foot on dry land.
"Keldon, the men need a few days rest. We haven't seen land for a month. You must give them time to take care of personal matters."
Keldon’s features darkened. "I doonae want to tell ye, again. We leave with the evenin’ tide. If you think you cannae handle spreadin’ the word of it, I’ll be glad to relieve ye of yer duties.”
Vincent’s jaw dropped open. He stared at him for a full two seconds. “Be glad I know you are hurting, my friend, or I’d teach you a lesson in good manners.” He might still consider it since he seemed bent on picking a fight.
“Just do as I asked.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Vincent saluted him.
Keldon cursed under his breath, but didn’t say any more.
The crew under protest reluctantly did as their captain bade and set sail once more. The weather turned out to be cold and wet, putting everyone on board in an irritable mood. They hadn't spotted any other prey for days and Keldon was beginning to think Vincent had been right about staying put for a while. He was about to announce they turn the ship toward dry land, when the man on watch gave the cry.
"Captain, vessel on the portside."
Keldon strode to where he could get a better view. Vincent followed close behind.
"Can you see her jack?" he asked.
"She's flyin’ the British flag, The Waterfront is her name.” Keldon handed the spyglass to Vincent. "Take a look for yerself."
"Ah, she's a beauty. You think we can take her. No?"
"Aye, cannae see a reason why we wouldnae be able to. She hasnae even noticed us, yet.” Keldon looked behind him and shouted the order. "Bring a spring upon our cable, we have The Waterfront in our sights."
"Aye, aye," Leighton replied.
They were in pursuit.
When The Waterfront realized the danger, the captain sounded the alarm, but it was already too late. Though the British ship was making way, the Good Intent was the faster of the two. At a last attempt, The Waterfront tried to use the chase guns on the closing schooner, but Keldon countered the attack. They closed in. They were beside The Waterfront now, and if they could just get the grappling hooks over the bulwarks, they would have their prize.
The cry of success finally came. "We have them, Keldon," Leighton shouted.
Keldon's crew quickly boarded the vessel their weapon's in tow. Within fifteen minutes, the fighting was virtually over and The Waterfront was theirs for the taking. Keldon watched over the disgruntled Captain Stevens, while the men went to work to see what treasures the ship held.
Stevens stood nearly as tall as Keldon with hair the color of straw and eyes as dark as sin. The man wasn’t intimidated and refused to keep his mouth shut. "You know you will not get away with this. We'll run you down. I know these waters and we'll find you and hang every bloody one of you unsavory scoundrels."
"I think my men are up to yer challenge.” Keldon countered with self-reliant ease that enraged Stevens further.
Vincent approached with the news of the find. "The jobs completed, Captain and you will be pleased to know we found something well worth our trouble. They were carrying hard currency."
Captain Stevens overheard and continued his verbal assaults. "You better leave that where you found it. That's a hanging offense."
Keldon's smile held no warmth when he addressed Stevens, once again. "Weel since we are goin' to hang one way or another it might as weel be for somethin' that’s worth mentionin’."
"You will rue this day.” He seethed with contempt, his dark eyes nearly bulging out of his head.
Keldon chose to ignore him and in a voice for all to hear, he made his announcement to his prisoners. "We thank ye all for yer warm hospitality, but we must be goin’. So if ye will kindly make yer way to the long boats, we'll lower ye below."
"You’re bloody mad!” Stevens’ eyes widen in horror. "Surely, you don't mean to set us afloat in this unfavorable weather."
"I do recall that ye told me ye knew the waters weel. A wee bit of rain willnae hurt ye and besides ye claimed ye would hunt us down. It may be slow goin’ in the long boats, but ye can give it a good try.” Keldon nudged the red, faced captain, adding to his insult. “Now, move."
Vincent was in charge of lowering the long boats and had already started the monotonous task. While he was busy, Leighton took some of the men back to the Good Intent and started releasing her hold on The Waterfront.
Keldon could see no apparent trouble. Everything was running smoothly. Then in a blink of an eye, it all went to hell when he spotted the man who ruined his life. He felt his features contort in anger until he knew he wore a glowering mask of rage. “Nicholas Sherborn!” he spit out the name like a horrible obscenity. He’d kill the man. He’d rip his heart from his chest and feed it to the sharks.
Nicholas’ eyes widened, but he stood his ground, his fists clenched at his side.
Damn him. He should be groveling, asking for forgiveness. A pulsing fury clouded his judgment and Keldon went after him. He leapt over obstacles and pushed everyone out of his way, but before he could get his hands around Nicholas’ neck, a burly sized man stepped in with a vicious blow to the side of his head. He lost his balance and slammed into something hard and unyielding. He blinked rapidly as a blinding light sent him to his knees.
Then everything went dark.
Out of the corner of his eye, Vincent saw Keldon go down. Then yells erupted and there was mass confusion, as the captives broke free. Vincent noticed Sherborn’s face among the muddle of chaos, but was too far away to apprehend him. He drew his sword and shouted the order, "Raise your arms, men!”
British outnumbered them and it didn't take long to see Captain Stevens’ crew would win out. Vincent hadn’t seen Keldon rise and a nauseating wave of dread hit him. In all the time he had fought side by side with Keldon, he had never seen the powerful man fall. Had they killed him? He had to know for sure. He swung his sword and tried his best to move toward where he last saw Keldon, but at every attempt, he was blocked. In the end, he had no other choice but to retreat to the Good Intent or be caught himself.
Vincent stared at The Waterfront, as she slowly faded from his view. They should be cheering for their clever decamp, but instead they left with a heavy heart.
"We kin not go back." Samuel clasped Vincent’s shoulder. "Mista Keldon wuldn't want us too. We endanger every one efs we did."
"I know this, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. If he was still alive, we left him to a fate we all have had nightmares about."
****
The British scr
ambled to weigh the anchor and get their ship into motion. In their hurry, they managed to pierce their own ship. Though the damage was minimal, the vessel started to take on water. They had to turn toward land, which infuriated Captain Stevens beyond reason. The Highland Pirate left with the currency in his possession and he had a damaged ship. Someone would pay for this. Violent images lurched inside his head as he thought of what form of torture he’d use on the man who cost him this embarrassment.
"Captain?"
"What do you want, Dugan?” Stevens snapped.
"Do you want us to clap the irons on the Highlander?"
"What?” Stevens looked at his man for the first time. "What did you say?"
"Do you want us to clap the irons on the Highlander?" Dugan repeated.
Stevens couldn’t believe it. In all the confusion, he had assumed the man had escaped. He started laughing, hysterically.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Sophie showed Arianna the welts Rafferty had given a small boy, who was no more than eight years old. “Please take care of him Sophie. I’ll be back.”
“Where’s you goin’?”
“I’ve had enough of Rafferty’s abuse.” She set out to the fields with determination. She wanted the horrid man off her land and she wanted him gone today.
Rafferty saw Arianna approaching, but he made no move to meet her halfway.
"Did you beat a little boy?” Anger splintered and flashed as she met his gaze. The arrogant bastard smiled.
"If you means the nigger boy, I did.” He spat at her feet.
She clutched her fists at her side to refrain from slapping the man’s face.
"You are worse than any vile thing that has ever slithered on God's green earth and I want you off my property."
Karen Michelle Nutt Page 22
