Hart's Desire (Pirates & Petticoats Book 1)

by Chloe Flowers

  Keelan almost squealed at the unexpected change in gait and grabbed the saddle horn with both hands. Landon’s arm snaked around her waist and settled her back into the seat. This time she did not remove it, choosing safety in exchange for pride.

  The rest of the ride back was uneventful, and she couldn’t help but enjoy the easy conversation she had with Landon. He was a talented storyteller, keeping her holding her breath in suspense or holding her side from laughter.

  At one point, she observed, “It is no wonder you love sailing the ocean. If I were a man, I think I would choose the same profession. It would be fascinating to see such exotic sights and live such extraordinary experiences.”

  “Just say the word, my lady and I will be your most devoted escort.”

  Keelan sighed and became quiet as her thoughts churned. He spoke the words lightly, but their weight was palpable. Circumstances with her father and her own troubles made such a life appear no more than a childish dream.

  Stay distant.

  Exposing her tender desires to a charmer like Captain Hart would only add pain to an already broken-heart. She had to steel her emotions from the potent lure of the man, and somehow maintain a cool and aloof demeanor. Asking a snowflake to avoid melting on a hot July day in South Carolina would be easier.

  Along the way back to the plantation, both Keelan and Landon marveled at the destruction. The storm had cut a swath of vegetation through the forest along the southern side of the trail. Entire trees had been uprooted. Some looked like broken broomsticks; their trunks twisted and snapped several feet from the ground.

  “The storm headed northwest,” Landon quietly observed.

  Keelan chewed her lower lip. If it truly went northwest then it would have hit Twin Pines.

  Had her family made it through the storm unscathed?

  Was the house still standing?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The stable roof was in shambles.

  From what she could see, it lay in pieces scattered about the barnyard and as far as the front gardens. Men, women, and children dotted the landscape, picking up the debris. Somehow, the main house had escaped damage. Keelan expelled a relieved sigh. If the house was standing, then her family should be fine, too.

  Thomas worked hitching horses to Uncle Jared’s carriage. Nearby, additional horses were saddled and tethered to the hitching post.

  Landon and Keelan rode into the yard. Upon seeing the identity of the riders, the young groom let out a whoop and ran off into the house.

  Landon dismounted and held out his hand to assist her. “It appears we have caused a bit of a tizzy.”

  She nodded. “A search party has been assembled.” She glanced worriedly toward the house. “Do you think the search party will search for missing slaves as well? I worry Simon won’t make it back before his absence is noticed.”

  “Simon is a very resourceful man,” he answered.

  “How would you know that? You have only seen him twice.”

  Landon shrugged. “He left a strong impression on me today.” He reached up and grasped her waist, then began to pull her from the horse.

  She felt a violent tug on the waist of her skirt and before she could object, a loud rip made both freeze. Keelan was suspended, held in part by Landon’s extended arms, as well as the trapped fabric, snagged on the saddle horn. With a nervous swallow, she peered over her shoulder and gasped. Her skirt had been separated from the seam, exposing her twisted shift. The result unveiled a pair of ivory white legs and from the draft, most of her backside as well.

  Landon glanced over her shoulder and his eyes widened. She glared at him and he leered back.

  “Put. Me. Down.”

  “As you wish.”

  He began to lower her to the ground but paused again at the sound of another loud rip.

  “Wait!” she shrieked, regretting her command.

  Landon raised his eyebrows. “What will it be, my dear? Shall I put you down or not? I must say, I enjoy having you in my arms but would desire a more private spot.”

  “You pompous oaf!” she hissed. “This is not the time to play the rutting stag. My skirt is caught around the saddle horn, and you know it.”

  He glanced over her shoulder again and let his gaze travel leisurely over her exposed limbs. She thumped his chest with her fists.

  “Landon Hart!”

  “Would you like some help to that end, my love?” he asked solemnly.

  His calm, confident demeanor, combined with his ornery teasing, made it hard for her to focus on the issue at hand. She expelled an exasperated breath and hoped she sounded intimidating when she spoke through clenched teeth. “If you are quite through being a scoundrel then, yes!”

  Landon easily lifted her higher and to her shock, flung her over his shoulder like a sack of sugar. His left hand rested boldly on the small of her back, if you could call it that, since its position was either at the lowest part of her back or the highest part of her bottom. Stepping forward, he reached up and disengaged her skirt. This feat accomplished, her removed her from his shoulder and released her, allowing her to slide against his body with a speed similar to cold molasses. He was a rake to the core.

  Keelan’s body instinctively arched toward his, although it had to be due to her pulling her chest away from his. Her mind and body were both traitors. She shoved against Landon’s chest and stepped back. With what she hoped was a chilling glare, she worked to wriggle the stubbornly twisted shift free.

  “Look what you’ve done!” Keelan twisted around and reached for the torn waistline. She grasped a handful of fabric and tried her best to preserve her modesty. How humiliating. At least no one was near enough to witness her embarrassment. Scowling, she stepped forward and raised her face toward his. It was best to ignore the hot flush burning her cheeks. Let the scoundrel think it was anger rather than acute embarrassment. Anger, which welled inside her like an overfilled pitcher.

  The entire day had been one compromising and mortifying event after another for her, and Landon Hart had witnessed or participated in every single one. His proximity made him an easy target for her wrath.

  She poked a slender finger hard on his chest and followed when he stepped back, narrowing the space between them.

  “Since I have been in your presence, I have been insulted, ogled, mauled and now, practically had the clothes torn from my body.”

  Landon managed to look appalled. “Miss Grey, I never insulted you.”

  Never in her life had Keelan repeatedly felt so discomfited, desirable, passionate, and appalled as she had since meeting Landon Hart. Why must she ever play the ninny for the man? Since their first meeting, she had managed to paint herself into a very unladylike portrait. It annoyed her even more that the captain had gleefully witnessed every scandalous moment.

  Worse, was the way her body reacted when he was near, beyond the exasperation and anger. Part of her wanted to be near him, breathe him in, thrill in the way his presence energized her. Another part of her was frantically clanking gongs in her head.

  She wasn’t a daft, pampered child of the aristocracy. She’d grown up as a commodore’s daughter. Her mother had made sure she understood the ways of seafaring men. She’d be wise to avoid letting her emotions override those lessons, if only she could trust her own self control.

  Seemingly undaunted by her admonishment, the sea captain was rudely avoiding eye contact as she spoke. His gaze was pointed over her shoulder.

  “Keelan…my sweet…”

  “Do not attempt to ply me with tender words in hopes of dampening my vexation.” Unwilling to yield him the opportunity to toss about any more of his apparently bottomless supply of mockery and charm, she continued, “I am not your sweet. I am not your love. You play a charming gentleman one moment and a pirate thief stealing kisses from me the next.” She wished she could find the words to slice his pride and dispel that infuriating grin. She gestured to her person. “Look at me! You have literally ripped the clothes from my b
ody.”

  Landon’s eyebrows lowered in warning. He spoke softly. “Keelan… love…please lower your voice. ’Tis best to continue this conversation another time. There are….”

  Her jaw dropped for a moment. Did he think he could simply tell her to stay silent and postpone the admonishment he deserved until such a time it was convenient for him? She was of a mind to give him some of his own medicine.

  She flung her free arm in the air in exasperation. “Do you really think I give a damn about whether or not you want to hear about what a scandalous debaucher of women you are?” He might be lord, master, and captain of his ship but this was not his domain, and she would not let him bully her into silence. She would speak her mind!

  “And you should know, Sir Pirate, if you think your groping and pawing will have me soon falling, willing and lusty, into your bed like a common street trollop then you, sir—” She poked his chest again. “Are an arrogant ass!”

  There. He deserved every word of that lecture.

  She dropped her hand and tried to better gather her torn skirt. “Oh, for pity’s sake, let’s speak no more of it. I’m afraid it’s been a trying afternoon, and my patience has been worn thin.” She brushed her hand over her renegade curls. “We should be thankful the worst thing that happened was that I lost my favorite bonnet,” she muttered.

  A startled gasp behind her hit Keelan like a cold blast of water. Landon’s face twitched as he fought to remain painfully composed. Who was behind her? Slowly turning, she saw Thomas standing with a small contingent of family and servants. To her horror, Mr. Pratt, Doreen, Aunt Sarah, and Uncle Jared stood on the porch at the forefront, their eyes wide and unblinking. Her father sat on a wheeled chair. Thomas and Ruth did their best to find other sights to peruse, like toes, trees, the sky. Behind them, Everett came out the front door, making matters worse.

  Aunt Sarah managed to find her voice first. “Keelan, dear child,” she choked. “When that beast of a horse returned to the stables without you, we feared the worst!” She scurried forward and hugged her. “I am so relieved you are home safe. You appear to be…”

  Doreen stepped forward. “Running around the countryside like some loose floozy!” she sneered, her perusal raking Keelan from head to foot. “Look at her. Riding about the plantation without a decent escort! It’s shameful.” Doreen turned toward her father. “Our name will be the laughing stock of the Charleston area, if it’s not already, thanks to her!”

  Keelan stiffened at her cousin’s harsh outburst.

  Uncle Jared scowled at his daughter, quickly grabbed her arm, and pulled her behind him. “This is none of your concern, Doreen.”

  Landon stepped forward and addressed her cousin. He placed a hand over his heart and bowed slightly. “I assure you, Miss Doreen, Miss Keelan was on her best behavior. My reputation as a gentleman has remained intact and not been tarnished in the least by today’s events.”

  Keelan’s jaw dropped as the meaning of Landon’s words sank in. Her aunt made a strangled choking sound and stepped back, her gaze flickering nervously between her husband and the other onlookers. Uncle Jared actually appeared to be fighting back a smile. He coughed into his hand, then scratched his neck and glancing at her father.

  But it was Mr. Pratt who acted first, his face a mottled red. His glare shifted between Keelan and Landon. “I came here before continuing on to search for three runaways, to make sure my intended hadn’t been harmed by the storm.” He turned to her father and Uncle Jared. “However, in light of the current situation, consider my previous offer of marriage rescinded!”

  Pratt shoved past the two men and strode down the steps without another glance in Keelan’s direction. After snatching his horse’s reins from the hitching post, he mounted and dug his heels into the gelding’s side. At his shout, two other figures near the stables jumped on their mounts and galloped to join him in his flight down the lane toward the mill. The family stood in horrified silence, with the exception of Keelan, who almost laughed with relief, but didn’t dare try to appear anything but grim, and Doreen, who had clapped a hand over her mouth. Although, by the gleam in her eyes, she had to assume her cousin enjoyed the situation immensely.

  Her father drew his eyebrows together. “What have you to say for your actions, Captain Hart?”

  Keelan went from sudden elation to instant shock. Her chest turned to hard, jagged stone, weighing her down and making it difficult to draw an even breath. What had she done? How much had they heard?

  “My intentions, I assure you, were honorable, sir.” Landon answered smoothly, unruffled. “After meeting with Mr. Grey at the mill, I took his advice and followed the path around the plantation.” He gestured to Keelan. “I came upon Miss Grey and offered to escort her back to the house. We were unable to make it back before the storm hit, so we sought shelter and waited for it to pass. Unfortunately, the storm frightened off her mount. I did my best to return her to you, unharmed in every way.”

  Should she correct him? Should she tell her father Hart had saved her from a runaway horse in addition to the fury of the violent storm? Would her father think it a ploy to show Captain Hart in a more positive light than what he deserved? Regrettably, the damage had already been done thanks to her earlier tirade. As hard was it was for her to do so, she remained silent.

  “According to my daughter’s recent words, your actions were most definitely not honorable,” her father growled, leaning heavily on the arms of the wheeled chair. “I assure you, knowing Pratt, the sun will barely rise on the morrow, ’ere the rest of the county will be buzzing with the news you have taken advantage!” His last words ended in a near shout, causing Keelan and Aunt Sarah to cringe.

  Landon didn’t flinch. In fact, his face showed no emotion at all. “I have no desire to see your daughter’s reputation tarnished beyond repair, Commodore. As amends, I offer her my hand in marriage, sir, if that will remedy the situation.”

  “It would certainly help,” Jared interjected. “And sooner rather than later.”

  “Wait!” Everett stepped forward, tripping over Ruth’s foot as he squeezed between her and Joseph. “I…I also offer my hand in marriage. I have already spoken to both the commodore and Miss Grey, concerning a betrothal. Keelan and I are in love and wish to be married.”

  She could only stare at the doctor in shock. What had he just said?

  In love?

  In love?

  She opened her mouth to interject, but all that would come out was an odd squeaking noise.

  The memory of Everett’s proposal in the garden created a thick murky sensation in her stomach. The beautiful plan that started out as a delaying tactic had turned on her full force. Worse, her charade had given Everett cause to believe she loved him. What had she been thinking? The situation was now completely out of her control. And she didn't do well when she had no control.

  Papa raised an eyebrow, then glanced at Uncle Jared, who shrugged. Her mind worked furiously, tossing away one idea after another, but she could find no quick way out of the situation.

  Her father crossed his arms. “Keelan will decide which of the two she will marry.”

  Marry Landon Hart or Everett Garrison? Choose between a debaucher like Landon who flirted with the strings of her heart better than the highest trained violinist, and a benevolent but meek man like Everett, who while compassionate, stirred no passion in her soul at all.

  Dear Lord, she lived a nightmare!

  She finally found her voice. “Papa, can we not take some time to discuss—”

  Her father swiftly raised his hand and stopped her. “I need no time. My decision stands. You will marry right away. The only question you must answer is, which man would you prefer to take as a husband?”

  She could only gape at her father. Her heart screamed Landon’s name, but her voice would not. Her body ached for Landon’s touch, but her heart feared he’d feed it lust rather than love. Then her mind reminded her of an image of her swollen belly and the women of Charlest
on talking behind their fans about her husband, who left his naive little wife behind while bedding every arduous beauty between here and China.

  Everett had a growing practice in Charleston. It was likely he would return to it when he was no longer needed at Twin Pines. Already, he’d made several trips back and forth each month. The fastest way to see her dream of owning her own shop fulfilled, would be to bind herself to Everett. Better to marry the one she didn’t love, than the one who would certainly break her heart and leave her bitter and lonely. It would be safer, less painful.

  She lifted her chin and stared at her father. “Fine then. I choose Dr. Garrison.”

  Doreen inhaled sharply before she whirled, yanked open the door, and ran into the house.

  Next to her, she heard the slightest expulsion of breath from Landon. A sigh of relief no doubt. She’d made the right choice after all. The right choice, not the happiest one. Not her heart’s choice.

  Now that the decision was made, she hated herself for allowing Landon Hart to seduce her mind and rip her tender heart. How dare her father force her choose now, in front of everyone, especially Doreen? Everett should have stayed silent, or stayed inside the house. She couldn’t stand there a moment longer. When she started for the steps, Landon touched her elbow.

  “Keelan—”

  She reacted instinctively with a fury fed by regret and humiliation. In one smooth motion, she jerked her elbow away and with her other hand, landed a slap on his cheek that could be heard all the way to Jamaica. Whirling back toward the house, she again grabbed her torn skirt and stomped up the stairs, people parting a path for her like the red sea.

  Damn that man!

  And damn her silly, foolish, foolish heart.

  Landon adjusted Orion’s reins and prepared to mount. He’d probably dodged a bullet, both literally and figuratively. Grey would have been perfectly in his rights to demand he marry Keelan today, and at gunpoint. He lifted his sleeve and wiped the small beads of sweat from his hairline. If he ever married, it would be too soon. His line of work didn’t accommodate wives very well. And he enjoyed his freedom.