by Jamie Carie
Looking down at her filthy hands, Kendra cringed. She had worked all day to finish the steps, and there was barely any feeling left in them. Using some of the precious water, she dampened a piece of cloth from her ripped petticoat and attempted to clean them as best she could. They were getting so dirty that she had hardly been able to bend her fingers enough to hold the glass, but her hands weren’t the only casualties. Her whole body felt like it had been beaten, and she was covered with dirt from head to toe. She knew that even if she did see a servant, he or she would be hard pressed to even recognize her. With that thought, Kendra took a clean corner of the cloth and wet it. Using the cloth to wipe her face, she breathed a sigh of relief. She would never waste water again, should she get out of this mess. Taking the pins out of her hair, Kendra shook the mass out and ran her fingers through it to bring it to some sort of order. The effort was almost too much for her tired arms. Taking a fortifying breath, Kendra braided it into one fat braid down her back. She then paced in the small cell, trying to stay awake. It was tempting to sleep for a few hours, but she didn’t dare, as tired as she was she wouldn’t wake up until morning. The thought of spending one more night here was more that she could bear.
After what Kendra hoped was an hour, she prepared to make her move. Taking a clean piece of cloth, she wrapped it around the jagged glass. The glass had served her well as a shovel and now it would act as a weapon too. Next, she tucked her skirts up into the neckline of her dress to free her feet to climb and snuffed out the light. She wished she could have kept the light on, but she didn’t want to risk someone seeing it when she opened the door.
Taking a determined breath, Kendra began to climb the grooves in the wall. Reaching the sixth step with her feet, she clung to the eighth step with one hand while stretching her other arm upward until she felt the door. She pushed on it while saying a silent prayer. Joy burst through her. It wasn’t locked. They never dreamed she’d find a way out. Her relief was so great she almost lost her footing and fell to the floor. Catching herself, she pushed up on the door, letting in a cool shaft of moonlight. She climbed higher and flung the door open, it landing on the ground with a soft thud. Everything in her stilled as she waited for the hue and cry, but nothing but moonlight and the chill of the night air greeted her. Scrambling up the last groove, she pulled herself up and out of the opening, landing on the ground beside the hole. Her gaze darted around the moonlit grounds, seeing the kitchen garden and back of the kitchen building. She stood and lowered the door back into place. No one seemed to be around. Crouching low to the ground, Kendra tiptoed to the kitchen and then stood on tiptoe to peer through a window. Empty, dark, and quiet. Perfect. She crept to the door and opened it. Going inside, she washed her hands in a basin of clean water, packed a bundle of food—eating while she packed—and filled her canteen from a covered bucket of fresh water, drinking her fill first. She decided she better not carry her supplies with her to Andrew’s library, so she hid them among some bushes just outside the door before making her way to the main quarters of the castle. Silently, she crept down the dark hall, feeling her way with one hand skimming the wall, toward Andrew’s library. The door was shut. She took a deep breath, reached out, and pressed on the latch. It creaked a little as she pushed the door open. She stood still, not daring to breath. Fright washed over her like a bucket of cold water splashed into her face. Do it. You have to do it. Stepping into the room, she closed the door behind her.
She was in the room. Her heart pounded in the silent room as she felt around for a light and found a branch of candles. She lit them from the tinderbox in her pocket and made her way to the desk. An overwhelming sadness took hold of her as she ran her fingertips along the gleaming top. This had been her father’s desk. She remembered all the times she had sat next to him while he worked. How patient he had been with all her questions and interruptions. He always stopped his work to answer her or show interest in her ideas and solutions to problems. Once, when she had been sitting next to him, she noticed that he seemed troubled. “What’s the matter, Papa?” she had asked in her eleven-year-old voice.
He had turned and looked at her with such love. “Nothing, my sweet. I was just missing your mother.”
Kendra’s heart broke at the pain in his eyes. She knew she missed having a mother, but she didn’t really miss her mother because she had never known her.
“What was she like?” Kendra asked in a soft voice.
Her father’s eyes became misty as he gazed in the distance. “She was wonderful. She loved life so much, Kendra. She was kind and thoughtful of others. She appreciated the small things in life and was not caught up in all this,” he said with a wave. Turning to Kendra, he clasped her small hand in his and said with emotion clogging his throat, “She loved you very much. We wanted a child for a long time and then you finally came. Her last words were about you.”
“What did she say?”
“She said that you were very special. That you were a gift from God and that we should all take very good care of you. And something else. Something I’ve not told you about yet.”
Kendra cocked her head to one side. “What is it?”
“I was waiting until you were older, but the time seems right.” He gave her a tight squeeze. “She made me promise that you should pick your own husband some day and that I shouldn’t pick him for you.”
Kendra didn’t know what to say, and was a little embarrassed to be talking about someday getting married.
Her father chuckled and pulled her in for another hug. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will be there to help you decide.”
But he wasn’t here. And she had picked the wrong man. A big tear dropped down Kendra’s cheek. “I miss you so much,” she whispered into the darkness.
Taking a deep breath, Kendra pulled herself from her thoughts. She had to find documents, something to prove Andrew’s guilt. Opening drawers and sifting through papers, Kendra searched the desk. There. In the bottom, left-hand drawer, she found what she was looking for. All the paid receipts from the supposed debt to the Brougham Company, and underneath it the real ledger for the Brougham Company. Glancing through it Kendra could see that the company was making a profit, the kind of profit that came from stolen goods. Then a name, a familiar name, shot out at her. It was a cargo list from a ship . . . a ship named the Angelina. Her breath whooshed out with the revelation. Andrew had been behind the pirates that had attacked Dorian’s ship. The pieces snapped together with sudden clarity. Andrew had sent those pirates to try and finish her off before she ever made it to America, on board a rich cargo ship, two birds with one stone. Oh, she felt sick. Would there be no end to what he had done to them?
“Find what you were looking for?” a sneering voice asked from the doorway.
Kendra’s head snapped up, her heart in her throat. Andrew. No, please God, don’t let this be happening.
Kendra stood up and started to back toward the window while Andrew advanced on her.
“I should have known you would try something like this. You’ve been nothing but trouble. Getting in the way of my well-laid plans! And you almost succeeded, didn’t you.” He was within inches of her now. So busy with his tirade, Andrew must not have heard the sound of horses riding up into the courtyard, but Kendra did. Her gaze flicked toward the window, but it was too dark to see anything.
His voice rose to a shout, “What did you think you were going to do with these?” He reached over and ripped the papers from her hands. “You’ll need more proof than this, you know. I have many friends in the courts. No one can touch me. No amount of proof will destroy me!” His eyes bulged and his face turned red with rage. His voice rose even higher as he reached over and took a small gun from a drawer in the desk. Aiming it at Kendra’s chest, he gloated, “You will never stop me, not when I nearly have it all. Your dowry was the only thing left, the last piece, and now I’ll have that too.”
Kendra knew she had to act—now. It was her only chance. Taking the jagged piece
of glass from her pocket, she brought it in an upward sweep toward the hand holding the gun. Andrew screamed as it sliced into his forearm and then dropped the gun. Kendra scrambled to the floor for it, but Andrew was too fast for her. Picking up the gun, Andrew lifted her off her feet with one hand wrapped around the collar of her dress. With his other hand, he slapped her hard across the face, snapping her neck back. He arm rose back to smack her again when they heard a menacing voice from the doorway.
“Release her or you’re a dead man.”
Dorian and John stood there, rifles aimed at Andrew’s back, certain death in their eyes.
“Dorian, you came,” Kendra whispered through her bleeding mouth.
Sweat beaded on Andrew’s upper lip as he turned Kendra and held her back against his chest, the gun aimed at her head. “If you want your wife alive, I wouldn’t make any sudden moves.”
Kendra tried not to whimper in pain as his arm cut off her breath.
“Drop your guns or I will put a bullet right through her pretty head.” Andrew rammed the pistol further into Kendra’s temple. Dorian and John lowered their guns to the floor.
Suddenly, a loud boom went off from one of their guns. Smoke filled the room as a bullet whizzed toward the ceiling. All eyes saw it strike the chandelier above Andrew and Kendra, breaking the glass into a thousand falling pieces before they could react. The massive silver arms came plunging down toward Andrew, Kendra still within his grasp.
Dorian dove forward, plowing into Kendra, while Andrew’s attention was riveted above his head. It all happened so fast. The chandelier hit Andrew first, pushing them down to the floor. Dorian reached them just as they hit the floor and pulled Kendra away. One of the broad arms of the chandelier caught her leg and she yelped in pain, but the sudden scream from Andrew said he took the brunt of it.
Dorian pulled Kendra close as the chandelier clattered to the floor around Andrew’s head and shoulders. They all watched, immobilized, as the massive silver arms pinned him to the floor. Andrew lay on the floor, his face frozen in shock, his eyes wide open. There was a huge gash, bursting with blood, on his head. Kendra wailed and turned into Dorian’s shoulder, gripping his coat with her hands.
The room grew quiet. The candles flickered as if a soft wind had blown by. John stepped over and picked up Andrew’s arm, checking for a pulse at his wrist. He nodded to Dorian. “He’s dead.”
Dorian hugged Kendra tight to him, smoothing loose hair from her face. “I almost lost you. He almost killed you. Don’t ever think of leaving me again.”
The streaks of morning had just begun to color the bedchamber with rosy light when Kendra began to stir. Dorian had sat up all night, watching her sleep; thanking God she was still alive.
She opened her violet eyes and blinked up at him. A small smile, and then a wince crossed her face. “I must look a disaster.” She frowned and looked away uncertainly, shy.
“You look beautiful.” Dorian raised his hand to her cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb.
“I’m filthy and bruised from head to toe.”
“You’re alive.”
She locked gazes with him, her eyes filling with tears. “You came for me. Why?”
Dorian reached around to the bedside table and grasped the tiny garment. “Recognize this?” His voice was sober, serious.
Kendra bit her lower lip. “The christening gown. I left it under the bed, didn’t I?”
Dorian nodded. “Does it mean what I think it does? Kendra . . . are you expecting a child? Our child?”
Kendra looked away and nodded.
Clasping her chin, Dorian turned her face to look into her eyes. His heart pounded as he asked the question he had come thousands of miles to ask, “Why Kendra, why did you leave? Why would you not tell me about our child?”
Kendra’s chin quivered as she burst out the story. “I overheard you talking to John, at your birthday party. You said that you wished you hadn’t married me and, and that you would have to tell me . . . that, that our marriage would be over soon. I realized that you married me only to protect me and I-I couldn’t bear the thought of your not loving me, so I left.”
Dorian’s emotions swung from confusion to anger to pain. He racked his memory for this supposed conversation. Suddenly, it struck him. He’d been telling John about Molly, and how he would have to tell Kendra about her. “Kendra, we weren’t discussing you, love.”
Kendra’s gaze turned toward him with a snap. “But then, who?”
“I was married once before. We were discussing her.”
Kendra gasped and pushed away from him. “You were married? When? To whom?”
“Her name was Molly. She tricked me into marrying her. She insisted she was pregnant but we found out later that she wasn’t. I was eighteen. I made a mistake and then paid a very great cost for it.”
“But what happened to her?”
“She died a couple of years after we were married. I was . . . relieved, and hated myself for it. I should have told you about her. I’m sorry. When you walked into my life”—he paused, leaning his head back, gazing at the ceiling with a sigh—“I didn’t want to feel what you made me feel. I didn’t ever want to be married again. Those years with Molly, it was the worst time of my life. I swore I would never remarry. But then you came into my life and I knew I would be lost without you. I love you, Kendra. I have never loved anyone until you. Can you ever forgive me?”
“What a fool I’ve been. Can you ever forgive me? I should have trusted in our love, but I’ve lost so many people that I was afraid you would leave me too.” Looking up into his eyes, she whispered, “Can we make it right?”
Dorian pulled her closer into his arms and kissed her, branding her forever his. Lifting his head, his throat clogged with joy, he said, “It already is, my love. It already is.”
Dorian swept her up into his arms and then pulled back with raised brows and a wicked-looking smile.
“What are you thinking, my black-hearted knave?” Kendra giggled.
“Ah, the name-calling begins. I’ve missed it so.”
“You haven’t answered me. Don’t dodge the question.”
“I was thinking that a bath would be next in order. And then I was imagining how we could both fit in the tub and how I would—”
Kendra stopped him with a kiss. “Scandalous . . . American . . . pirate of my heart,” she murmured against his lips with a smile.
“Aye, my lady. Always your pirate,” he agreed, forgetting all about the bath.
Dear Reader,
Have you ever tried really hard to be a good Christian? You’re reading your Bible, praying, controlling your flesh, and following after Him. And it feels great! You might even feel justified, sanctified, worthy by your actions. And then BAM. Something (or someone) happens that throws you into a tailspin and reveals how weak and helpless you really are. You fail. You feel bad about yourself. And you might even hide from God, distancing yourself in shame instead of running to Him for help.
In my latest book, Pirate of my Heart, Lady Kendra Townsend finds out that she isn’t nearly as good as she would like to be and that the American sea captain she falls in love with challenges all of her good intentions. Captain Dorian Colburn has a lesson in store too. It is easy to forget about God when life is going along perfectly. Oh sure, he goes to church and goes through the motions of being a Christian, but it takes a violet-eyed Englishwoman to knock the wind out of his sails and send his perfect life sinking faster than a flaming pirate ship. If they can just get through the struggles, there is real treasure to be found at the end.
It is such a relief to finally give all of our being over to Christ Jesus, admit defeat, and ask for help. That’s where the peace is. That’s where the joy lies. In Him is our treasure. I hope you enjoy Dorian and Kendra’s love story. It was great fun to watch the sparks fly between these two characters and see them find treasure in God and in each other.
Jamie
Discussion Questions
1. Kendra’s father and uncle are twins and the sibling rivalry is exacerbated by the elder earl’s favoritism and training of the eldest son. Let’s discuss sibling rivalry and parental favoritism. Read about Joseph’s life in Genesis chapters 37–39 and compare his experience with his siblings to your experience as a child. What experiences have you had with this issue as a child, parent, or even in the workplace?
2. Kendra’s mother died giving birth to her and her father becomes her whole world. When he dies, she is devastated. What were your relationships like with your parents? If you are a parent or would like to be in the future, what would you do differently? The same?
3. Dorian is happy with his life and has no desire to change it. He doesn’t draw close to God because he doesn’t really feel that he needs Him. Have you ever fallen into this trap when life is coasting along fine? What happened and what did you learn from that time?
4. For the first time in her life, Kendra finds herself highly attracted to a man. She is confused—afraid and excited at the same time. What was your first crush like? What happened and what did you learn from it?
5. Love and infatuation can cause many emotions to surface such as jealousy and desire. The Bible has a lot to say about desire along the lines of James 1:15, “Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.” What do you think about the emotional traps involved with falling in love? Is there a “best” way to go about it? Any other Scriptures come to mind?
6. Kendra’s relatives in America have been disillusioned by life’s hardships, making them cold and bitter. But Kendra’s giving nature brings light and joy to their lives again even though their situation remains the same. It amazes me how much one person can influence a household for good or evil. What impact do you have on your household and/or the people in your life? Is there something you would like to change?
