Landon’s brows furrowed. “She and her son disappeared. I’ve heard different rumors that she changed her name and started a new life in St. Augustine. Other stories place her in New Orleans. She was never heard of again.”
Keelan could feel the doctor’s gaze. She did her best to ignore the chill slithering across the back of her neck.
“How long are you at port Captain Hart?” Dr. Garrison changed the subject.
Keelan straightened in her seat, drawing another curious perusal from her aunt. Trying to appear unconcerned, Keelan pretended to focus on rearranging her napkin over her lap. When Captain Hart didn’t immediately answer, she chanced a glance in his direction.
Landon sat back in his chair. “A few weeks.” He shifted his gaze to Keelan. “At least.”
“Well, then,” Aunt Sarah said. “You must allow us to offer you the full hospitality of Twin Pines. We would love the pleasure of your company. And you too, Mr. O'Brien.” She smiled at Conal.
Keelan’s lungs froze. She would not be able to abide seeing Hart and his bloody, rakish grin on a daily basis.
“That is a most gracious offer, Mrs. Grey.” Landon smiled. “I can only imagine the full extent of what Twin Pines has to offer.”
She was doomed. Keelan fingered the handle of her teacup, which prompted Simon to refill it before slipping out of the room with the empty teapot.
“Unfortunately,” Landon continued, “my ship demands close supervision, and most of my business duties remain in Charleston. Therefore, I have already secured arrangements. I sincerely appreciate your warm and gracious offer, however.”
Oh good. She'd be spared the torture of the captain's presence. But as her stomach climbed up into place, Aunt Sarah sent it spinning away yet again like a child’s top on a polished wood floor.
“As compensation for our disappointment, you and Mr. O'Brien must accept an invitation to our ball next Saturday,” her aunt countered.
“We’d be honored.” Landon responded with a polite dip of his head.
Aunt Sarah clapped. “Wonderful!” She passed a dish of potatoes to the captain. “Do try these, Captain Hart. Mr. Grey had them shipped from Philadelphia. He absolutely loves them. Keelan dear, you’ve barely eaten a bite. Are you well?”
“I’m fine, Aunt Sarah.” She met Hart’s amused gaze. “I seem to have lost my appetite this morning.”
He remained stoic except for a mischievous twitch of his mouth.
Conal O'Brien leaned forward. “Miss Keelan, have you any kinsmen in Ireland?” The captain’s deep forest eyes studied her intently.
“No. My parents’ families are both quite well-recorded.”
What an odd question.
“Tis hard to believe a lass with your hair and eyes dinna have roots in Ireland or Scotland.” Conal pursed his lips as he stared at her a moment longer before he shrugged and returned his attention to his plate.
“I’m a bit of a curiosity, I suppose. I’m the only one in my family gifted with auburn hair.” She shrugged.
Not only was it an unusual auburn shade, it was wild and chose to curl on a whim. No matter where she went, she had to withstand the surreptitious stares. Her hair drew people’s attention as if it was a character separate from her yet still connected, like an extroverted twin.
“I’m going up to sit with my father for a while.” She nodded to each of the other three men who had risen from their seats. “Dr. Garrison, I will speak with you later, and gentlemen, it was a pleasure to meet you both. Captain Hart, I understand Charleston has excellent shipwrights. I hope you are able to complete your business here quickly.”
Hart returned to her a charming smile. “Why, thank you for your concern, Miss Grey. I don’t anticipate delays. However, in the interim, I shall enjoy my visit. It seems the Charleston area has an abundance of wonderful sights. I might decide to extend my stay in order to take them all in.”
Simon appeared at the doorway of the breakfast room. Uncle Jared motioned him in.
“What is it, Simon?”
Mr. Pratt’s in the parlor and’s asked me to tell you dat he wishes a word.”
Uncle Jared reached for another scone. “Send him in. Perhaps he’d enjoy some breakfast.”
With a respectful nod, Simon disappeared. Keelan clenched her teeth together. Mr. Pratt was not here by chance. Either he’d been summoned, or he intended to propose to her. Whatever the reason, she wasn’t staying to find out. Jumping to her feet, she darted to the sideboard where she picked up her father’s breakfast tray.
Dr. Garrison pushed away from the table. “Allow me to carry that for you, Miss Grey.” He tossed his napkin down, successfully knocking over his tea. “Oh, quite sorry,” he said as he clumsily righted it then dabbed at the spill with his napkin. He stood, tipping his chair over in his haste. With an exasperated grunt, Uncle Jared extended his arm and pulled the chair upright again. Garrison gave him a quick, embarrassed shrug.
Keelan briefly caught the intrigued look Captain Hart exchanged with Mr. O'Brien before he turned his attention back to her, giving her a smile as he stood.
“It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Miss Grey. I shall speak with you again at the ball. I would be honored if you would reserve a dance for me.”
Keeping her expression as blank as possible, she nodded. “Of course, Captain. Until then, good day.” Certainly nothing good could come from dancing with Captain Hart. Later, she’d determine how to avoid dancing with him at the ball. Her objective now was to stay out of Pratt’s sight.
Dr. Garrison followed Keelan as she attempted a hasty escape up the stairs. “Miss Keelan, please allow me to carry the tray.”
“I can manage, Dr. Garrison,” she said with forced cheer while continuing her climb. If only he would leave her alone and let her dash upstairs. With him nearby, she was forced to climb the steps in a more genteel manner.
“I must insist.” He trotted up the steps and placed his hands on the tray next to hers. “And I do wish you would call me Everett.”
Of course he insists. Keelan sighed and allowed him to take it from her while doing her best to avoid rolling her eyes when he jostled the dishes as he took possession, spilling most of the cream. Freed from the encumbrance of the tray, she quickened her pace up the stairs.
“Well, good morning, Miss Grey.” The voice rasped over the plastered wall like dry leaves, making the hair stand on the back of Keelan’s neck. She looked longingly at the last three steps.
She’d almost made it.
Turning, she managed a stiff nod. “Good morning, Mr. Pratt.” He stood in the hall, one hand clasping a limp handkerchief and the other a sturdy cane to bear his bulk.
“Would you care to join me in the breakfast room?” He dabbed his mouth and gave her a closed-lip smile.
“Thank you for the invitation.” She gripped the banister. Perhaps the reason he didn’t show his teeth when he smiled was because he didn’t have many. “However, I have already eaten and am taking my father his meal.”
Pratt’s eyes hardened, but the thin line of his mouth remained slightly upturned. “Allow the kind Dr. Garrison to deliver the tray to your father, my dear. Join me. I insist.”
Why must men always insist? A murky sensation clamped over her shoulders as she walked back down the steps, feeling much like a doomed prisoner plodding to the gallows. Pratt waited patiently and held out his arm for her. She slowly looped her hand around his elbow to rest on his forearm and did her best to fight off a nauseous shudder that threatened, although she feared nothing would be able to pull her from the foul mood she now found herself in.
Pratt strutted into the breakfast room much like a bandy rooster in the yard.
“Pratt! Welcome! Won’t you join us for breakfast?” Uncle Jared jumped up and shook Pratt’s hand. The pleasant smile on his face faltered a bit when he met Keelan’s glare.
“I’d be honored.” Pratt pulled out the chair Keelan had recently vacated. “Here, my dear.” Then he lowered his bulk into the seat
beside her. Once again, she had to face the amused countenance of Captain Hart, which wasn’t quite as bothersome as the presence of the man seated next to her. Well, maybe it was.
When Hart quirked a brow in silent question, she threw him a glower through her lashes that should have withered a watermelon. He rewarded her with a slight widening of his eyes, to which she could only pretend to ignore. Along with the smirk, damn him.
Introductions were soon made, and Simon placed a full plate of food in front of Mr. Pratt, who shoved a heaping spoonful of shirred eggs into his mouth before he spoke. “I have considered the proposal you and the commodore presented to me.” He nudged Keelan with his shoulder and winked at her.
Small bits of egg tumbled from his mouth with the words “proposal” and “presented,” The urge to gag was overpowering. The only thing keeping her from bolting from the room in hysterics was her father’s earlier promise to delay any decisions until after Doreen’s ball. That didn’t give her a lot of time; she’d have to come up with a more solid plan of action fast. At the moment, the most appealing plan of action almost consisted of packing a small satchel and running away.
Certainly, Landon Hart was heartily amused. She cast a fast glance at him. Instead of amusement, a shocked look flashed across his face before it was replaced by one of pity. As if he were thinking, Rotten luck for her.
She pressed her lips together. It was rotten luck.
Pratt continued. “You’ll be happy to know I have decided to accept it, and I shall have papers drawn up that will merge Great Oaks with Twin Pines as soon as the nuptials are completed.”
“Ahh…well, then…I shall relay that to my brother.” Uncle Jared shifted uneasily in his seat, avoiding eye contact with her.
She lifted her chin and spoke to her uncle. “You should know that Papa has decided to postpone making any firm decisions until after Doreen’s ball next Saturday.”
“You don’t say?” Pratt perked up a bit. “He seemed most eager at the time of our prior conversation.”
The gusting sound of a tornado filled her head, for a moment blocking out all other conversation. She had to devise a way to avoid all this. She hoped to marry someday, but she wanted it to be a man of her choosing. Someone she loved. Someone who loved her.
Her hands curled into fists. She would not marry Pratt. There had been a greedy gleam in his eyes when he spoke of the merger. It was apparent he wanted the land badly. She wished to be an obedient daughter; her father expected her to be one. But she would indeed run away before she’d ever agree to marry Pratt.
Or…she could find a way to use Twin Pines as leverage for what she wanted.
Keelan jumped at a sudden pressure on her thigh. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized Pratt had put his hand on her leg. She frantically searched for a fork but none were within reach, since Simon had cleared her place when she left earlier.
“Mr. Pratt won’t you try the brandied fruit? It’s the best I’ve ever tasted.”
Hart reached the large fruit bowl across the table to Pratt, forcing the man to remove his groping hand to take the bowl.
“Thank you, Captain Hart. Don’t mind if I do, as long as it isn’t too chewy. I lost another tooth this morning so I have to be careful.” Pratt busied himself scooping several spoonfuls of fruit on his half empty plate.
Keelan let out a relieved breath and chanced a glance at Landon, who gave her a sympathetic smirk. She choked back a snort of laughter. Captain Hart had a quick-mind, to be sure. She pushed her chair back and stood.
“Please excuse me, gentlemen.”
As the other men all stood with her, she managed to dart away before Pratt could push up from the table and reach for her hand.
“Join me in the parlor later, dear,” Aunt Sarah called. “I’ll be working on my needlepoint and would love some company until Doreen joins me.”
“I would love to, Aunt Sarah,” Keelan replied with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, which was minimal, considering her loathing for needlepoint. At least she would be free of Pratt’s groping, and Hart’s mocking looks.
And his perfect smile, which made her stomach flutter and dip, damn him.
CHAPTER SIX
Things were not going as Everett Garrison had planned.
He walked to the window of the commodore’s room and ran a hand through his hair. The events of the day had, so far, not been to his liking. Pratt’s visit was unexpected. The merchant captains’ visit was also unexpected as was the interesting interaction between Keelan and Hart.
“What has you so agitated, Dr. Garrison, that you must pace a trench in the floor boards?” Commodore Grey had paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth.
Everett clasped his hands behind his back. “If you must know, sir, I’m a bit unhappy with Mr. Pratt’s pursuit of your daughter’s hand.”
“You don’t say.” Grey took a bite of the Indian porridge then dug his spoon in for another.
Now that the topic had been opened, Everett had to move forward carefully. After witnessing the subtle interactions between Captain Hart and Miss Keelan during breakfast, he’d come to the conclusion he could no longer afford to be patient. It was obvious those two shared an attraction or interest. He couldn’t allow it to continue.
Then there was old man Pratt. He was another big obstacle for Everett to overcome, due to the plantation owner’s wealth.
“Commodore, I’d like to think that over the past couple of years, we’ve come to know each other fairly well.”
Grey nodded. “Yes, I agree. The tenderness you showed while caring for my injured wife was the reason I asked for your help in treating my melancholy.”
“I still regret the damage was too severe for me to save her,” he responded.
“I know, young man. I’m grateful nonetheless, which is another reason I wanted to help you settle here in America, knowing it was a goal of yours.” He reached for his tea, a slight tremor in his hand.
The effects of the medication.
“Yes, sir, and I am extremely grateful to have had your financial backing. It’s allowed me to secure a Charleston office and begin my medical practice with great success.” Even as he said the words, they tasted bitter in his mouth. All the money in the world could not bring a loved one back from the dead.
“Glad to hear it, Garrison.”
Everett fingered his watch’s chain. “I have also had the honor of befriending your daughter. I have grown quite fond of her and, like you, wish to see her happy. I also understand a father’s desire to see his only daughter comfortably married, but my casual observation of Miss Keelan and Mr. Pratt together tends to give me pause.”
Grey put down his spoon. “How so?”
Careful here.
“Well, sir, she nearly fled from the breakfast room when Simon announced Pratt’s arrival, and she seemed most distressed when he caught sight of her and insisted she join him for a bite.” He tried to appear sympathetic. “I don’t believe she fancies a marriage to him in the slightest.”
The Commodore let out a loud sigh. “I know. She said as much earlier. Working in her mother’s shop has made her ambitious. She’s not taken a liking to living on a plantation out in the country.” His eyes were sad and knowing. “But I’m dying. I can sense it. I can taste it…a rotten, bitter flavor of age and decay.” His gaze travelled to the window and his voice softened. “I want to see Keelan suitably cared for before I die, Dr. Garrison.”
Everett nodded and gave the commodore a compassionate smile. “I understand. Therefore, I’d like to propose an alternative for you to consider.”
Grey turned his attention back to him and raised a shaggy brow. “Go on then.”
“I have been building a successful medical practice over the past year. Word of mouth of my expertise has contributed substantially to that end. I understand your daughter favors a civilized life in town.” His palms began to sweat and he rubbed them on his trousers. “I could provide that for her.” He stepped closer t
o the commodore’s bedside and laced his tone with as much empathy as he could muster.
“Commodore Grey, I would be honored if you would grant me permission to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. As I said earlier, I’m very fond of her and would be most diligent in seeing to her happiness and care. She would be able to live in town and could open her own shop, if she desires to do so.” He held his breath as the commodore deliberated his proposal.
The commodore wiped his mouth with a napkin then pushed away his tray. “Dr. Garrison, I will be blunt.” He grasped the edge of his blanket and pulled it up a bit. “At this stage of my life, a sense of decorum has less power over my tongue anyway. You must understand that Keelan’s future is my primary concern. A marriage to Pratt would see her well-cared for in the event of his death, because she would own something tangible in the end—land.”
Everett swallowed. This conversation wasn’t progressing in the direction he’d hoped.
The commodore continued, “However, in the case of your death, she would have nothing she could use to provide relevant income.” He held up a hand to cut off Everett’s protest. “Be assured, Garrison, I’d rather she marry a young buck like you rather than an old stag like Pratt. But her long-term welfare is of utmost concern to me.”
Everett lowered his chin and pursed his lips. “I understand, sir. But I would implore you to recall your daughter’s intelligence and experience in running a business. I have complete faith that an enterprise run by her would soon surpass those of other merchants.”
Commodore Grey stared at him for a long moment. The tension in Everett’s shoulders eased a tiny bit when Grey broke eye contact and stared down at his gnarled fists clenching the blanket.
“You have a sound point, Dr. Garrison. I shall consider your proposal. However, Keelan must agree to it first. Only then will my younger brother and I further discuss the possibility.”
For the tenth time, Everett scanned the dimly lit pub as he sipped his ale. It was early in the afternoon; too early for the tavern to be noisy with men half in their cups, but late enough to have enough patrons milling about allowing him to blend in with the back wall. He eyed two tall, slender men, about his size, followed by a short thick tar as they shouldered their way past the bar and headed in his direction. They pulled out chairs and sat at the table next to him.
Hart's Desire (Pirates & Petticoats Book 1) Page 7
