Hart's Passion (Pirates & Petticoats Book 2)

by Chloe Flowers

  As Landon’s orders were relayed to the gun deck, the rest of the crew crowded the rail to watch.

  “Fire four gun!” Landon shouted.

  Keelan was more prepared this time and covered her ears with her hands. At the shudder of the gun firing, she closed her eyes to the thick smoke. The breeze had picked up and soon whisked the smoke away from the deck, and after a second, she dared open her eyes. The Dragon now had a drooping triangular sail near the front of the ship.

  A shout rang out on deck, “A hit to the main gaff tops’l!”

  Landon sent out another command to the gunners. “Fire one gun!”

  Another shuddering boom jarred the deck. The wind drove the smoke ahead of the ship and she caught sight of the bar shot, just as it reached the schooner. Both fascinated and terrified at the same time, she watched it crash through the top of the forward lowest square sail and splinter the mainmast about midway way up. Then, the upper foremast slowly toppled and folded in half.

  A sudden cheer arose on the decks of the Seeker, and the distance again grew between the two ships.

  “Huzzah! Huzzah!”

  “Good work lads! A hit through the fore lower tops’l and foremast.” Landon’s voice held a note of pride, “Reload and stand ready. Load your guns and run them out!”

  Keelan still stood next to the helm as the crippled pirate ship forfeited the chase. Elation washed over her like a shower of sunshine, and she found herself laughing with glee. Landon grinned at her and she couldn’t help smiling back at him. Conal turned his attention to the wind in the sheets. “Helm a quarter point to starboard! Lay aloft and take in two reefs!”

  “Aye, Captain!”

  A flurry of other commands shot across the decks, and the crew moved with amazing agility to accomplish them. Sails were trimmed and the Seeker shifted away from the Dragon. The smaller sloop limped toward the shore, and crossed over their wake behind them.

  “At least the smaller boat has an opportunity to flee,” she said.

  Conal peered through his glass at the sloop. “Small crew. I don’t see any wounded sailors. It looks like there’s damage to the foremast and sail. They might be able to make it to port using the mainsails before Gampo can ready his boat to give a chase, unless they’re lubbers and can’t sail.”

  Landon raised his brows and shook his head. “I’m not so sure they can, they should’ve never lowered the mainsail.”

  The Seeker continued to gain speed, and the wind snatched a wisp of hair from under Keelan’s hat. If she hadn’t fastened the chinstrap tightly, it would have probably flown away with the breeze. A loud clapping rent the air, and she followed Conal’s sharp gaze to a loose mainsail, flapping faster than a sparrow’s wing. A commotion soon followed near the main mast. A sailor scampered like a monkey along the topgallant spar. A second perched on the spar below and sawed at one of the sheets holding the main topsail.

  Keelan held her breath. If they fell, it would surely be to their death.

  “Lash down that sail! Sheepshank the rigging best ye can, lads. Hop to it and with a will!” Conal turned, pulled his pistols from his belt, and fired a shot into the air. He aimed the other one at the two sailors aloft. “Either come down now or test the steadiness of my hand.”

  They froze for a moment, and then reversed back to the ratlines to begin the climb down. Remus and Johnny, along with another dozen mates were waiting and wrestled them to the deck. After a slight scuffle, the men were subdued.

  “It appears we’ve flushed out the other spies,” Landon observed. To Remus and Johnny he said, “Secure them in the hold. Keep them under close watch.”

  “Aye, sir,” Remus responded. To the pirates he growled, “Move on, ye bilge rats. Ye’ll git yer due soon enough. It’s been a while since we got to see a good keel haulin’.”

  Both men paled and exchanged terrified looks before Remus and Johnny shoved then toward the hatch.

  Conal glanced up at the crewmen, who worked fervently to repair the damaged rigging. “We’re losing speed, dammit.”

  Conal’s expression remained stoic and a tenseness remained around his mouth. Landon clamped his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “The Dragon is no longer in a position for a chase. We’ll have our chance another day, my friend, when we have all three ships at hand.” Landon jerked his head in the direction of the hold. “I’d like to have a conversation with our pirate guests below. Perhaps if we’re persuasive enough, they’ll share the location Gampo roosts when he’s not at sea. Then we could pay a personal call after our stop at Harbour Town.”

  Conal nodded in agreement. “Let’s give them some time to contemplate their current situation. They might be more talkative after a time locked in the bilge with the ballast.”

  He issued orders to tack back and make a wide sweep, retracing their earlier path, but staying well outside the range of the wounded schooner’s guns. Several members of the crew grabbed grappling hooks and stood at the rails. They made a sport of snagging items tossed overboard earlier to lighten the load, making wagers on who could recover their target first.

  The Seeker continued its starboard arc until it was once again sailing south toward Harbour Town. Keelan breathed deeply, savoring their victory and giving thanks no one was hurt. The dark-sailed pirate boat bobbed on the water and the little sloop still limped southward toward the shoreline.

  She hoped to never see them again, but she had a strange tingling along the back of her neck, and suddenly the distance from the two ships couldn’t widen fast enough.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The crew repacked and stowed the ammunitions and other weapons. The guns were once again tightly secured, powder and balls replenished and made ready for the next time they were needed. A light rain started, and was soon accompanied by a thin mist, which muted the usual sounds of activity aboard the Seeker. The vessel would soon arrive at Harbour Town, South Carolina. Everett and Orvis were both given a brief sea burial, during which Doreen had locked herself in Annette’s cabin, tormented by guilt.

  Keelan’s heart filled with pity for her cousin. She’d talked with Doreen at length earlier, and as she suspected, her cousin had indeed recognized the sound of her voice while they were in the hold. Keelan told Doreen about Gampo and his desire for vengeance, and Doreen promised to keep Keelan’s identity and location a secret. Her cousin had sobbed on Keelan’s shoulder until her tears were spent.

  “I’m so sorry, Keelan,” Doreen repeated.

  “Shhh…you can’t keep the burden of this blame on your shoulders, Doreen,” she’d replied. “Your intent was never to harm either Papa or Dr. Garrison. The fault belongs to Everett, and God will judge him now.”

  The daylight waned just as a fog drifted in. Within the hour it had thickened. It was not long before Conal ordered the anchor lowered.

  “Too many outer sandbars and shoals to navigate in the mist,” he noted. “Tis better to wait ’til it lifts than risk running aground.”

  From her post near the mainmast, Keelan could barely make out the vague outline of the ship’s stern. Most of the crew went below deck to hang their hammocks and turn in, except for the few who sat around an overturned crate, and played cards by the dull yellow glow of night watch’s lantern.

  The desire for some privacy to ponder her own thoughts, made her wander to the aft deck near the main cabin, where she leaned against the rail to stare out into the gray curtain. The fog hid both ocean and horizon. She extended her hand, and the thick, wet mist swallowed it. Fog covered the ship in a translucent darkness, holding both Keelan and the Seeker captive and paralyzed. She shivered as its moist breath crept across her bare neck, unable to shake the trepidation skittering down her spine.

  What of the hammock hanging in Landon’s cabin? The strokes of his long, lean fingers on her skin, and the urgent demand of his kisses could easily bend her to his whim. If he but touched her, she would be powerless to resist him. Her heart pounded with need even as trepidation tingled in her stomach.


  He loved her. The knowledge made her light as a sparrow. He didn’t ask her to marry him, though. A heavy fist of sadness settled in her heart next to her joy. Her intentions, while admirable and virtuous, had been no match for the intense and powerful lure of Landon Hart.

  She loved him. He was cocky; so sure of himself that the fates acquiesced to his whims because it was too much trouble to argue. He loved adventure and changed directions with the tide and the wind, whether or not others could keep up. He was brave and strong and hungry for life. Yes, she loved him.

  Falling in love with Landon was sure to lead to inevitable misery and heartbreak. Her will had not saved her; she had fallen anyway. A solitary tear broke free and crept down her cheek. She loved him, and wanted to trust him with her heart, but she was afraid.

  The promise of marriage seemed less likely now, and even less important. Another deep sigh of defeat swirled the air around her.

  He loved her now, but would he eventually break her heart? According to her mother, there was always another woman, another port city somewhere along the way to steal a mariner’s attention and his heart. Whatever she and Landon had today, this hour, this minute was ethereal. Was it meant to last? She didn’t know. He loved her today, and today, would have to be enough.

  Perhaps today should be enough. Who was she to demand more?

  “Keelan.”

  The apparition of her thoughts walked toward her. The mist swirled around him as he strode through its vapor like a pirate ghost, unhindered by the same gray blanket holding her captive. The silver saber strapped to his waist stood out starkly against the black breeches and boots. The white linen shirt almost glowed against his darkly tanned skin. The top ties were unsecured, revealing his bare neck. Her pulse leapt as Landon stepped closer and she desperately resisted the temptation to reach out and run her fingers over the broad expanse of his chest. Her gaze slid involuntarily up over his strongly boned jaw, and paused on the small scar on his chin before lingering on his lips. Thinking back to the fiery kiss he had dealt her in his cabin earlier sent a flurry of awakening within her. Her breasts tingled from the memory of his touch and a strange ache began to pulse in her lower belly. She expelled her breath in a soft pant and finally found the courage to meet the scorching heat of his gaze.

  Was he replaying the same memory?

  For a moment, she could not breathe. If he touched her, she’d surely melt.

  Without breaking his gaze, Landon reached up and tugged the strap holding Keelan’s hair in a queue at the base of her neck, freeing her short auburn curls. He could not keep his fingers from delving into the soft tresses. Is this what it was like to be under a spell? His breath caught as her irises grew dark and limpid, like liquid emeralds. Her lashes fluttered then lowered to her cheeks and she leaned her head into his fingers. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted any other woman. This desire was different; it was not only more powerful but more possessive as well. Unlike past dalliances, he did not want his time to end with this woman—waif—sprite—imp.

  Ever.

  Keelan would always fight to forge her own path, with or without him. He could never ask her to compromise her morals or forsake her upbringing to be his mistress. She had said so, vehemently. Worse, she didn’t trust him. What did he need to do to change that? He wanted her trust and devotion. He craved it. A wave of realization struck him like storm surge from a gale.

  He’d never be able to force her to trust him. He, of all people, should know that trust is earned, not demanded. If he wanted to keep her, he would have to do more. Be more. This line of thinking should have him running the other direction. Yet, for the first time in many years, it wasn’t unpleasing. If anything, it drove him more strongly to her.

  In Charleston, when he’d feared her lost, he’d been staggered by the emptiness surrounding him. Now that he had her, he wasn’t about to be separated from her again.

  Ever.

  He needed her to stay with him. He needed her by his side. He needed her.

  Tonight, this knowledge provided a calm sense of purpose rather than an intense desire to flee. But at the moment, he couldn’t think of a single word to say to sway her favor to him. His grip on her hair involuntarily tightened, and his lips were on hers before he knew it. She was a fresh spring breeze kissed by the salty sea air. Her body leaned into him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her closer and held her until their bodies blended together.

  The pound of her heart against his, the whispers from her lips, the smell of the ocean in her hair, all combined into a heady spell, which left him powerless and exposed.

  And he didn’t care.

  Keelan’s heart pounded as Landon’s arms wrapped possessively around her. She inhaled as his hardened frame pressed against her belly. His tongue teased her mouth open, tasting. Within the swirling the mist, their passions twirled and melted together. Nothing existed except his lips, his touch, his scent. Where there was Landon, there was warmth, comfort, strength.

  Fire.

  She pressed against him in an uncontrollable attempt to ease the sudden ache which began to spread, first within her belly…then lower. If he wanted her, she would give herself to him and allow herself to be loved for whatever span of time he willed it. Yes, it made her weak, but she didn’t care. No man would ever match Landon’s passion and power. She’d savor this small slice of paradise for as long as she could.

  His grip around her tightened, and his hand slid up to cup the firm roundness of her breast. She sighed as his mouth moved to her neck, leaving little, molten impressions in its wake. It was impossible to complete a single thought. A low moan escaped from her throat, and her fingers instinctively buried themselves in his hair. She heard his voice in her ear, low and husky with emotion.

  “Keelan, I need you with me. I cannot stay locked on land, yet neither can I bear to be separated from you.” He cupped her face gently with his strong hands. “I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without you by my side.” He rested his forehead against hers and his voice dropped to a tortured tone. “However…I am a man of the sea, not the type of man to run plantations or city shops.”

  She swallowed, but the lump in her throat stayed. It’s not as if his words surprised her. In fact, hadn’t she expected this? She’d been thinking the same thoughts seconds ago.

  “Yes, I know,” she whispered, covering his hands with hers. “And I am not a woman who’d be content to stay home alone and await a man who is gone at sea. You know this as well.”

  “Yes,” Landon’s voice lowered into an almost anguished whisper, as if he was both afraid to speak and afraid not to.

  He’d asked her to sail with him once. Had he changed his mind? No matter. She would take tonight, and whatever amount of time they had until they dropped anchor in Harbour Town. She was a woman, and his crew believed a woman on a ship was bad luck. What more was there to say?

  Landon took a quick breath and held it. “Keelan, I want you by my side…always. Will you sail with me, love? As my wife?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Did Landon Hart just request her hand in marriage? This man? This untamable sea captain? Keelan’s joy was so powerful her heart seemed suddenly to pause in mid-beat, or maybe it simply exploded. Landon’s hands framed her face, and she could only stare at the midnight eyes which held hers prisoner. Her vision of Landon, the handsome dandy of a sea captain, with a beautiful woman in every port city, dissipated before her eyes. In his place was this handsome, strong-willed man ready to love and grow old with her.

  Keelan responded the only way she could. Her slender fingers slid up and pulled his head down to her. This time, she captured his lips with hers, seeking the warmth and softness pressed against her mouth. His fingers traced the frame of her face, barely touching her skin, before cradling her jaw in his palms. He moved his lips from her mouth to her cheeks, kissing away the tears of joy, then moved up to her eyelids, brows and forehead. He slipped his arms around her and pulled
her against his chest and she nuzzled her face against his shoulder, and hugged him back.

  “There is something I must tell you first,” Landon murmured.

  Keelan stilled. She tilted her head back and looked at him. She already knew his past. What else was there? He’d been married once before. His wife had died giving birth to another man’s child. “You already told me about your first marriage.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not that.” He paused as if to contemplate his next words. “I think I already know, but I want you to tell me how you feel about slavery.”

  His question took her by surprise. Her mind went back to the Whistling Pig, and the suspicion she’d had about the Schoen’s, Simon’s warning, and advice to seek the couple out at the tavern if she needed help fleeing Charleston.

  There was also the runaway family trio who had escaped from Pratt’s plantation and sought refuge in the cellar of an abandoned cabin where she and Landon had sheltered from a storm a few weeks ago. She had tended their wounds and Landon had left them the provisions he had in his saddle bags.

  Suddenly she understood.

  “You help them escape, don’t you?” she whispered.

  He nodded, watching her every movement. “Fynn had started aiding runaways years ago, after he himself had escaped his pirate captors. The Schoens, Simon, from Twin Pines, and the Ahern Merchant Fleet are all part of a small clandestine group of coastal residents and merchants who help slave families flee by transporting them north, to Philadelphia, then on to Canada.” He pulled away and took her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. “It’s more dangerous aiding families than it is individual runaways. The three slaves we found in the cabin cellar a few weeks ago hid in the Desire’s hold for several days. Because of repairs and stolen cargo, I was unable to leave on time for Philadelphia. Then, when Gampo put a price on your head, I had to send my ship to Harbour Town as a decoy. I must still take the Desire back up the coast to Philadelphia, where Fynn’s family and friends will move them, and the others northward.”