Hart's Desire (Pirates & Petticoats Book 1)

by Chloe Flowers

  “Hmm.” Keelan perused the captain’s stallion. “Let’s see, shall we?” She patted Sham’s neck and crooned, “Now then my handsome steed, lets give the wind a sporting chase.” She glanced sideways at Landon. “On the count of three, Captain?”

  But the captain shook his head. “I prefer not.”

  “One…” she said.

  “Miss Grey, I strongly advise…”

  “Two…”

  “I will not…”

  “Three!”

  Keelan relaxed her grip on the reins and twisted her fingers in Sham’s mane for added stability. The stallion needed no further urging. His muscles bunched beneath her as he leapt forward, eager to stretch his legs. She heard a surprised shout behind her. Soon, they were flying with joyful abandon down the lane. She laughed in giddy delight while Sham’s hooves beat a steady rhythm on the turf. It wasn’t long, however, before she heard Orion’s hoof beats getting louder behind her.

  Small clods of earth flew up in their wake as they burst out of the woods and raced along the outskirts of one of the fields. A small group of slaves paused in their labors and watched their flight as they thundered past.

  Although Sham worked up a lather on his neck and flanks, his breathing wasn't labored. In fact, he strained against the bit. How fast would he go if she let him set the pace? Keelan pulled on the reins but the horse did not respond. She pulled back again, harder this time, and tried to ignore the band tightening around her chest.

  She threw all her weight back in the saddle and added a shouted command, and expelled a breath she didn't realize she was holding when Sham hitched his gait allowing her to eventually slow him to an easy canter as they neared the mill. Thank goodness. She gave a triumphant laugh when she succeeded reining in the animal.

  “Come now, Sham. I need to catch my breath, even if you do not!”

  After a few prancing steps of half-hearted rebellion, the horse heeded her command and slowed to a reluctant walk. Landon Hart reined in beside her, a stern expression upon his face.

  “What’s wrong, Captain?” she quipped breathlessly. “Not used to being outrun by a woman?”

  “That was very foolish of you, Keelan Grey.” He reached over and grabbed Sham’s bridle. The horse threw up his head, nostrils flaring. The close proximity of Landon’s stallion didn’t help calm the beast in the slightest, but Landon held firmly to the bridle and gave the horse a low, firm command. When Sham settled a bit more, she was once again the recipient of his heated gaze.

  “You’re upset that you lost,” she countered. Her heart was beating a rhythm betraying her act of bravado; she was grateful the captain couldn’t hear it, or he’d guess how close she’d been to losing control of the stallion.

  “Your horse could have hit a rut in the trail and gone down with you on him!” Landon said fiercely. “You could have broken your pretty little neck.”

  “Well, he didn’t, as you can well see.” She adjusted her reins to avoid looking at him. She had to admit that while the ride was exhilarating, it had also been a bit frightening.

  “I’m not some helpless little chit,” she added.

  “Oh, you have proven that statement to the point of redundancy,” Landon replied, lowering his brows. His eyes practically sparked with blue fire. “It’s the reckless nature of your decisions I find most infuriating.”

  Despite lifting her chin and easing back her shoulders, it was hard to avoid shrinking away from him a bit like a chastised child. That reaction scraped her pride as would a gravel path to a knee.

  “Well, that really should be none of you concern, should it?” she snapped back, annoyed at her cowardice. “I can take care of myself just fine. Go find some weak-minded strumpet from whom to charm kisses. I’ll not be a pretty piece for you to use while your boat is being repaired.”

  An odd expression fluttered across Captain Hart’s face and for once, he had no retort.

  She nodded toward the mill ahead, her confidence almost refilled. “You’ll find Uncle Jared in the office.”

  Landon released her reins. “It would be best if you returned to the stables before the rain starts.”

  “I will when I’m ready,” she replied. “But I’d like to follow the trail ahead a bit further, first.” She reined Sham away from Landon’s horse before he could grab the reins again. “Good day, Captain Hart.”

  Sham jumped to a quick trot as soon as she loosened the reins. She allowed the horse to progress into a slow canter as they moved on down the lane. Resisting the urge to check the captain’s reaction, she hoped she appeared more confident on her mount than she actually felt.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Landon Hart was dangerous.

  The thick air pressed Keelan’s clothing against her skin like a damp blanket. A trickle of sweat followed a pathway down the side of her face and along her jaw, before continuing down her neck. Once she rode beyond the sight of the mill, she didn’t think twice about propriety and removed both her jacket and bonnet and tied them to the back of her saddle. She was thankful Slaney had insisted upon pinning her hair up off her neck this morning.

  The merchant captain was entirely too flirtatious. It was important she steel herself to be more resistant to his charms. But how?

  In the past, when she needed to clear her mind or ponder the solution to a problem, she always took to a horse, dragging along whatever household servant she could persuade to chaperone. When in town she went by carriage, but when they stayed at the country house, she rode.

  This ride was no different from the ones in the past, except for one thing.

  A chaperone.

  She shook her head in self-chastisement. Again, a rash decision on her part had her teetering on the precipice of trouble. When would she learn? If only she’d paused long enough to think her plan through, she would’ve decided to bring Slaney along. Perhaps she inherited this particular personality flaw from Papa, who was eccentric in his own right. She frowned as her thoughts turned toward her father.

  His prognosis was terrible and placed a heavy ache in her heart. As much as she wanted to squeeze her eyes closed and wish the fear away, she could not.

  She gripped the reins a little more tightly. To stand idly by and avoid preparing for her future would sentence her to years of misery with old man Pratt. It made her shudder with repulsion. It was obvious he overindulged in food and drink by his stature and his bulbous red nose. Since servants and slaves tended to gossip amongst themselves, Slaney had been able to provide Keelan with several lurid stories of strange sounds emanating from the master’s bedroom at night. The possibility of becoming Pratt’s bride churned up a wave of nausea.

  However, her plan seemed to be working, and she hoped soon she would be free of that possibility, thanks to Dr. Garrison. Keelan had also studied the Twin Pines ledgers. She now had a solid proposal in mind for her father and uncle.

  She sat straighter. It was crucial she keep her reputation spotless over the next several months. If Papa believed she had been compromised in any way, he would marry her off immediately.

  Keelan would simply make sure she was well chaperoned at all times.

  From now on, of course.

  Unbidden, Landon Hart’s handsome face intruded into her thoughts again. “Stop thinking about him,” she muttered to herself. She had to admit she longed to show Captain Hart she wasn’t some boyish twit intent on playing games in a meadow. She wanted Hart to see her as a woman. Confident, capable… She squared her shoulders.

  And totally out of reach.

  She blew a stray curl from her cheek and gave a resigned sigh. Except it would demand she play the same game with Hart as he played with her. And it was a game, that was certain. It was impossible Hart’s attentions were based on anything other than his desire to seduce her.

  Even if his intentions were honorable, she could never find happiness with a sea captain as a husband, because she would hate being left alone for months at a time, never knowing when, or if, he would return, esp
ecially one with a vendetta against a pirate.

  “Augh!” Swatting the air in front of her as if batting away his memory, she muttered, “Leave me be!”

  Her stomach grumbled loudly, and she regretted not bringing something to eat. Although the sun remained hidden behind the low gray clouds, she estimated it was past the noon hour. Thomas had kindly strapped a canteen to her saddle, and she retrieved it and took a long drink.

  Sham flicked his ears forward and back, taking in the surrounding countryside. The stallion paused, sampled the wind, and spun around to scan the lane behind them.

  “What do you hear, my fine steed?” she murmured. Absently stroking his glistening neck, she tried to peer into the trees lining the lane. Nothing.

  “Are you seeing ghosts, sir?” She saw nothing unusual. “I fear you’d be worthless in a fight, Sham. ‘Tis your good fortune you have such a swift stride. At least you can outrun your foes.”

  She reined Sham back around and they continued along the wide lane. Breaking into a clearing, they passed three shanties in various states of dilapidation. One still had most of its roof, but the other two were little more than a pile of clapboards, shingles, and stone. A sudden scurrying within the weeds near one of the structures startled Sham, and he shied away a few steps to the side, while keeping a wary eye on the monster in the grass.

  “It’s probably a rabbit, you big coward.” Keelan smiled. “Honestly, for such a large beast, you really should be a bit braver.”

  As the soil changed from red clay to moist sand, Sham’s ears perked up, and he sampled the air again then gave her a snort. He stopped and pranced a few obstinate steps to the left.

  She’d never been this far from the house before. Glancing up at the sky, the bank of clouds was still hunched on the horizon.

  Curious, she allowed the stallion to follow his nose.

  “You’ll probably soon have us both miles away, all because you’ve caught scent of a pretty little filly,” she mumbled dryly. A few moments later, they emerged out of the forest onto the bank of a large lake.

  “Ohhhh!” she breathed. “How beautiful.” She gaped at the pristine scene before her. So this was the largest lake on the plantation. It was much bigger than she’d imagined.

  The balmy breeze rustled through tall pines near the water’s edge, making the wispy boughs sway lazily. A purple-tinged haze meandered between the rippling surface of the lake and the solemn sky. Cypress trees stretched gnarled roots toward the water and hunched close to the bank like a cluster of hags sharing a secret. Spanish moss hung from the branches in long, graceful ringlets.

  Sham plunged forward into the lake. When he reached knee-depth, he paused and lowered his head to drink.

  “You were thirsty, too.” Keelan stroked his neck. They were standing at the point of a small narrow inlet. Without traveling the entire shoreline, it was impossible to determine how many other thin fingers of land extended into the waters.

  A splash interrupted her reverie. Water doused her ankles and thighs. She barely had time to catch her breath before another splash caught her full on the chest.

  Keelan blinked through the rivulets of water streaming down her face as Sham lifted his front hoof above the water, and brought it down with determined force.

  “You brute!” she railed, hauling back on the reins and forcing Sham into a quick retreat. “If you want your belly cooled down, you need only to take two steps forward!” Her riding habit was splattered with water. “You have soaked me to the skin!”

  The horse did not act the least bit chagrinned and stepped forward to take another long drink.

  How was she going to explain a wet riding habit? Her aunt and uncle would know how far from the main house she’d wandered. There would be no avoiding her uncle’s ire now. Unless she could manage to get dry before she returned. Keelan licked her lips and gazed at the cool fresh water of the lake as it rippled and twinkled. She plucked at her dampened linen blouse. It had been well soaked with perspiration before Sham had doused it. The cooler lake water had felt quite refreshing. It would be lovely to… Keelan glanced around. She was very much alone…

  She made up her mind in a blink. She’d never bathed in a lake, and the anticipation of cool water against her overheated skin made her almost laugh aloud. She hopped down, loosened the girth a little, hobbled Sham, and prepared to pamper herself a bit. First, she should take her new bonnet and jacket from the saddle straps.

  She reached for the items.

  They were both gone!

  She stared for a moment at the empty straps and shook her head, perplexed. She would have to keep a keen watch while retracing her ride from the lake. Hopefully, she would find the wayward garments along the route, no worse for wear.

  Keelan hobbled Sham and secured the reins where he wouldn’t step on them. With a quick pat on the rump, she sent the horse sauntering toward a tuft of sweet grass a short distance from the shore.

  A moment later, she’d wriggled out of her riding skirt and draped it over a large boulder near the water’s edge. Her blouse soon followed. She froze. Would she be able to re-tie the stays by herself? Why hadn’t that question entered her mind before she disrobed?

  She huffed in resignation. It was too late to undo her latest rather impulsive decision, so she decided to enjoy herself for a short time and deal with the clothing problem later.

  She removed her shift and placed it near the other articles. The warmth of the rock would dry her clothes before she needed them again. Her boots followed and soon Keelan stood in her chemise. She could barely contain her excitement as she approached the sandy bank.

  Her first steps into the water brought a smile to her face. She wiggled her toes and waded further. Lovely. Moaning, she turned and sank to her neck then froze. Putting a riding habit over a sopping chemise might be more than a little uncomfortable.

  However, no lady of the Low Country would dare bathe outside completely…naked.

  It would be scandalous.

  The corners of her mouth tipped up.

  But then, she was not a “Lady of the Low Country," was she?

  ’Tis more a matter of practicality than morality.

  Rising out of the water, she pulled the chemise over her head. At least half the pins Slaney carefully placed in her hair this morning had fallen out during the ride. The coiffure already ruined, she pulled the remaining pins free and placed them near the dripping chemise.

  She sank back into the cool depths of the lake. She was free. The water moved over her naked limbs in soft, soothing strokes. Is this what an angel's caress felt like? If she weren’t in such an exuberant state of bliss, she would have felt absolutely wicked. Taking a deep breath, she dipped beneath, careful to remain at a depth where her feet still touched the lake bottom. She expelled a lungful of bubbles before she popped back up, breaking the sparkling shell on the lake’s surface.

  A partially submerged rock a few feet away lured her a little deeper. The water was almost up to her neck. She reached out, grasped the boulder, and leaned on a narrow ledge chiseled into the side. It made a perfect hand rest. Lying back, Keelan gripped the rock and kicked her legs from the bottom to float. The sky was darker to the east, but large patches of blue still peeked through the silver clouds over the lake. She wanted to arrive home before her uncle and the rain, so she would not tarry overlong. Closing her eyes, Keelan inhaled and released a deep, relaxed breath. A bird warbled nearby and his mate soon answered. She could tell the sun had peeked out from its hiding place behind the low, gray clouds, because it warmed her cheeks and breasts. A light breeze fluttered over her body, and her nipples hardened with its caress. The faint, soft scent of jasmine danced on the wind and mingled with the sharp tang of pine and heady smell of earth and water.

  Keelan’s thoughts drifted along also. She pictured a pair of twinkling, azure eyes followed by an amused grin. Her brow wrinkled as her mother’s warning echoed in her head.

  “There’s no settling down for a man of t
he water. He’ll pledge his troth to you to be sure, but his lady is the sea and she ever beckons him home. In time, he’ll leave you for her charms. They always do, just like your father.”

  Even Slaney said as much earlier today.

  Certain that many women had been lured to Hart’s bed by his rakish good looks and wit, it would be best to forget about the touch of his hand on her wrist and his thigh against her own. Forget about the enticing caress of his lips against hers. Forget about the sound of his voice.

  Even now, her own flesh burned with the memory of his touch. Why did that man torment her mind so? How could she divert her attention to a safer place?

  A loud snort, followed by the heavy stomp of a horse’s hoof, interrupted her meandering daydreams. Sham had apparently returned for another drink, which was convenient. It meant she would not have to go far to find him when she was ready to head back home.

  Lazily opening her eyelids, she turned her head toward the bank. There, near the water’s edge, stood a huge black horse. The beast stomped again and pawed the ground with an impatient foreleg. Orion.

  On the animal’s back, leg casually thrown over the saddle horn, was the very person she had been in the process of banishing from her thoughts.

  Landon Hart’s gaze caught her own, a slow, lazy grin spreading across his tanned face. Her bonnet sat at a cocky angle on his head, and he touched the cap in a spry salute.

  With a startled shriek, Keelan let go of her hold on the boulder and flung her arms across her chest.

  And sank.

  She could no longer touch the lake bottom. Thrashing wildly, terror gripped her body in a deadly crush as her mouth and nose filled with water.

  The sky urged him to seek out Keelan. A wall of dark purple-gray clouds was indeed moving westward. A storm was not only probable, it was certain. Still, she shouldn’t be out alone, storm or no storm. Containing her ride to the plantation land did not mean she was safe. People traversed across Twin Pines when the situation warranted. He was vaguely familiar with the layout of Twin Pines thanks to the owners of a local tavern, The Whistling Pig. They had described it and the occasional use of the abandoned cabins near the lake. The valet, Daniel Hunter, had confirmed the information, when they’d conversed the other day.