Hart's Reward (Pirates & Petticoats #3) (15 page)

“Landon! You left me behind in the livery to arrive all alone.” Ronnie swatted Landon’s arm with his fan. “Shame on you. I could have been ravaged by highwaymen.”
 

Landon quickly handed his glass back to Keelan so he could remove his handkerchief and cover his mouth to keep the cough from becoming a bark of laughter. Where did Ronan acquire this sudden talent for dramatics?
 

“Are you all right, dear brother?” Ronnie’s eyes twinkled mischievously even as he pursed his lips. “You should take smaller sips.” He took Landon’s glass, refilled by Keelan, and handed it back to him. “Maybe this will help calm your guilty conscience.”

“I don’t believe any amount of wine can help me at this point,” Landon mumbled.

“And who do I have the pleasure of welcoming into my humble home?” Pratt’s nasally voice drifted up from behind them. Landon stepped aside to allow him to move in close enough to converse. Leon Pratt, a round shouldered, silver-haired man around sixty years of age, approached and dabbed his lips with a handkerchief. He gave Keelan no mind as he descended upon Landon and Ronnie.

Landon gestured to Ronnie. “Mr. Pratt, please allow me to introduce my sister, Veronica Hart. Veronica, I present to you Mister Leon Pratt.”

Ronnie batted his fan at Pratt. “Oh please, Mr. Pratt, call me Ronnie, everyone else does.”

Pratt took Ronnie’s hand and kissed it.
 

“Oh!” Ronnie jolted as if the kiss had been a lead shot.
 

Landon coughed into his handkerchief and received a sharp elbow in the ribs from Keelan.

Ronnie blinked. “Uh…goodness. Where are my manners? I was just so taken by your…countenance…that I almost forgot them. How silly of me.” Ronnie sank into a curtsy. “It’s a delight to meet you, sir.”

Pratt actually blushed. He puffed his chest out and gave Ronnie a closed lip smile, mostly because he lacked a full set of teeth.

“The pleasure is distinctly mine, Miss Ronnie. May I escort you to the dining hall? I have a most talented cook who has put out a magnificent spread of culinary delights.”

“I’d love to!” Ronnie smiled and opened his fan. “My, but these summer days are getting warmer, aren’t they?”

Pratt offered Ronnie his arm. “Indeed, normally, we’d be off to Summerville after the party to enjoy cooler climes by now, but I’ve been delayed a few days.” He patted Ronnie’s hand. “I must say, I’m glad to have made your acquaintance.”

“Oh, you flatter me too much, Mr. Pratt.” Ronnie fanned himself almost viciously as Pratt led him away. He turned and glared at the two of them, then jerked his head, signaling for them to follow.
 

Pratt’s gravelly voice drifted back to them. “Please, Miss Ronnie, I’d be honored if you would call me Leon. After we’ve had a bite, I hope you will allow me to show you my roses, I have a most splendid garden, indeed.”

“Wonderful! I’m sure my brother will agree to be my chaperone.” Another over the shoulder glare.
 

Landon expelled a deep breath and followed. He could think of no scenarios where this ended well.
 

None at all.

So far, the charade was working.
 

Making herself as small and inconspicuous as possible, Keelan moved around people conversing in the ballroom and headed for the kitchen, where she could spy on Landon and Ronnie.

“What kind of wine is that, little miss?”

Keelan froze, her heart in her throat. She’d been so focused on getting to the kitchen, she hadn’t noticed Jared and Sarah Grey. She’d known them as her uncle and aunt all her life, because Jared was Commodore Grey’s younger brother. Commodore Grey had raised her. Actually, he had kidnapped her when she was a toddler and brought her home for Daniel and Slaney to raise. Brendan discovered her true identity in Fynn’s diary.
 

She was Conal O’Brien’s lost sister, Cailyn.
 

Jared and Sarah Grey were not legally related to her, although they were unaware of that fact, and at the moment, Keelan had no way of proving it to them. She also didn’t know if Jared would stand in the way of her being with Landon as he had in the past. Of course, all this wouldn’t be a problem if Landon would simply remember he’d asked her to be his wife.
 

And
if they’d been married in a church, rather than performed an ancient handfast ceremony on the
Seeker,
in the middle of the ocean.
 

Landon now believed she owned slaves as well as a plantation. Here was her chance to find out if Papa had truly left Twin Pines to her as Uncle Jared predicted, or if she’d been eliminated from Papa’s will, as Papa had said. How should she ask? She could simply inquire if he was the new master of Twin Pines. Yes. That’s what she would do. She opened her mouth, then paused. Her British accent would draw attention here. When she posed as a Persian, folks didn’t question her voice, mostly because many weren’t sure what a Persian should sound like. For that matter, neither did she. Daniel had forged ahead with confident bravado in his disguise and she had followed, in the same confident manner and everything had worked out.

But now, her uncle and aunt would surely notice her voice and would instantly recognize her, even with the dye on her skin. It might be best to change her accent and tone. Why couldn’t she think faster? She poured a glass of wine while she thought about the best tact to take. In her distracted state, she poured the stream of wine over the glass and onto her tray. She pulled the carafe up quickly to cease the flow then tried again, drawing Jared’s attention back to her. Drat. It was even more difficult to ignore Uncle Jared’s perusal, since he stood so close and seemed to be studying her every move.

“You have a familiar face. Do you belong to Pratt?” He bent down to study her more closely.

Belong to Pratt? Absolutely
not
. Not ever. Not as a servant or a wife or a…

His question drew his wife’s attention and now she was looking at her. Oh dear. Aunt Sarah would certainly recognize her. Refusing to answer would be rude and insubordinate. Keelan kept her head lowered and shoulders rounded. Thankfully, Sarah’s attention was temporarily captured by the wine and she accepted the stem from Keelan and sipped.

A British accent wouldn’t do. Perhaps French? Spanish? Panic began to bubble inside her chest. All she could do was shake her head no.
 

No. I do not belong to Pratt.

“Well, out with it girl,” Uncle Jared said in frustration.

“She’s a mute, dear,” Aunt Sarah said gently. “See how she grasps her throat? That’s a sign that she cannot speak.”

She’d been grasping her throat?

Aunt Sarah patted Keelan’s arm. “It’s alright, child. Just go about your duties. Thank you for the wine.” She smiled sweetly and Keelan’s stomach took another guilty twist.
 

Dear, dear Aunt Sarah…

Well, now, everything worked out fine, except now she wasn’t able to ask Jared about Twin Pines. Drat, again. That information could have removed one more bone of discord between Landon and her especially if the plantation belonged to Jared. Not wanting to put her disguise in any more jeopardy, she bobbed a quick curtsy and once again made her way to the back of the house.

Under the pretense of cleaning the spilled wine off her tray, she entered the kitchen, placed the tray on the table, grabbed a rag and wiped the tray clean. Seeing a plate of canapés, she swapped the tray for the plate and headed for the dining room, hoping she wasn’t too late.

“My, you have a healthy appetite, Miss Ronnie,” Pratt was saying.

“You’d think I never fed her,” Landon responded, a sardonic twist to his mouth.

Ronan had a plate piled with food even as he was eating a small tea cake with his fingers. Ronnie turned his attention to Landon. “You don’t have a cook half as talented as Leon’s,” he said before stuffing the rest of the tea cake into his mouth.

Pratt accepted the compliment with a smile and added a sweet roll to both his plate and Ronnie’s.

The boy’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, you are so very kind, Leon.”

Pratt’s men had moved closer to the dining room doorway and now leaned against it like two twin pillars.

“Do finish your story, Miss Ronnie,” Pratt said. “You had reached the part in the play when the hero reaches for his sword as the pirate jumps from the yardarm.”

“Oh, yes,” Ronnie exclaimed, stepping closer to one of Pratt’s guards. “Our hero reaches across his body and grabs the handle of his sword.” While holding his plate in his left hand, Ronnie imitated the move with his right. “Then he pulls it from his scabbard so quickly, all you could see was a flash of silver!” Ronnie flung his arm wide in an arching blow left to right, catching the guard square in the nose with the back of his fist.

The move caught Pratt’s man by surprise and he stumbled back into the hall, holding his nose with both hands.
 

“Oh dear!” Ronnie cried. He clutched his hand to his chest. “Oh, Landon, I fear I might have broken my hand!”
 

Keelan wasn’t sure how he did it, but Ronnie managed to appear as if he would break into tears any second.

“Now Ronnie, don’t panic. Let’s have a look.” Landon stepped forward and put his arm around Ronnie’s shoulder. “Perhaps you should sit.”

Ronnie gestured at the man cursing under his breath in the hall. “I’m terribly sorry. He was standing so still and quiet, I didn’t even notice he was there.”

Pratt smiled at Ronnie. “Don’t apologize, my dear.” He stared at the man holding his nose. “If he was
being inconspicuous
, he wouldn’t have gotten in your way.”
 

His man ducked his head and reached into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief to staunch the blood streaming from his nose and the tears from his eyes.

Ronnie’s eyes widened. “Is that…is that…b…b…blood?”
 

Ronnie collapsed in Landon’s arms, the plate of food still in his hand.

“Oh, my!” Pratt exclaimed. He fastened his glare on the bleeding man. “For God’s sake, man, get the hell out of here until you can make yourself presentable to my guests!”

The guard nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

“Perhaps you have a bedroom where I can take my sister while she’s indisposed?” Landon had scooped Ronnie up in his arms.

“By all means.” Pratt led them toward the stairs.

Landon paused and addressed Keelan. “Would you mind coming along to attend to her needs?”

“Of course, sir.” She followed the men upstairs.
 

Pratt led them into a bedroom and hastened to light a lamp. Keelan noted that the second guard had followed them up and now stood outside the door.
 

“Sir,” Keelan addressed Pratt. “Miss Ronnie will probably need some water, clean cloths and an extra chamber pot.”

Pratt cleared his throat and waved his hand at the guard. “Hawkins, go fetch what is needed.”

Landon gently placed Ronnie on the bed. “Thank you Mr. Pratt. I’m sure my sister will be very grateful for your hospitality and discretion. She so hates to make a public spectacle like this. I’m sure she’ll be mortified when she wakes.”

Pratt cleared his throat. “I assure you, not a word of this will be mentioned.”

“You are kind.” Landon turned back to Ronnie and placed his hand on the boy’s forehead. “Please don’t let us detain you any longer from your guests. I’m sure they eagerly await your company.”

“Yes, well…yes.” Pratt clasped his hands behind his back and stepped toward the door. “I do apologize for the ineptitude of Tucker. Stay as long as you wish.”

Once Pratt closed the door, Ronnie jumped off the bed and Keelan frantically worked at the buttons on the back of the dress.

“We have to get you both out of here, now,” she said. “I’m still unsure if Pratt was convinced Ronnie was your sister. He may be simply pulling you away from the other guests and potential witnesses.” While Keelan unbuttoned the gown, Ronnie finished what was left of the plate of food he’d wedged between his body and Landon’s when he collapsed.
 

Landon strode to the window. “If we make it out of here alive, I’m going to kill both of you for putting yourselves in this…this situation.”

“If we
hadn’t
put ourselves in this situation, you’d be hanging from a rope tonight.” Ronnie peeled the front of the dress down, releasing his rolled up shirt which Keelan had used to create a false bosom. After he shimmied out of the silver silk, he slipped his shirt over his head. “The fires of hell can’t heat a man faster than a tightly cinched dress.” He kicked the garment away from his feet, wiped his brow with his sleeve then picked up the fan and fanned his chest. After noticing the quizzical expression on Landon’s face, he dropped the fan back on the bed as if it was a hot coal.

Landon gave a soft laugh and shook his head. A movement outside drew his attention. “Pratt has posted a man beneath the window.” He huffed out a breath.
 

Keelan open the door and peered out into the hall. “Quickly!” She gestured for them to move. “Go into the room across the hall and climb out the window.”

“I’m not leaving without you,” Landon said.

 
“I’ll sneak out the servant’s door behind the house and meet you. Ronnie knows where we hid Ole Poke. I’ll meet you there. Go!”

Landon and Ronnie darted across the hall. The voices of a woman and Pratt’s other guard drifted up the stair. There was no time to follow or dash down the hall to the servants staircase. She caught her breath. The door across the hall was still swinging shut as the two cleared the top step.
 

She hopped into the hall. “Thank goodness!” Keelan pressed a hand to her chest. “I feared you wouldn’t be in time.” The door across the hall eased shut. She snatched the chamber pot, shut the door and leaned against it. There was no place to hide or escape.
 

She was trapped.
 

The silver ball gown was still in a puddle on the floor. Could she possibly make it out of the house posing as “Veronica?” She bit her fingernail. It was too great a risk. There was too much disparity in their appearance. Hopefully, Landon and Ronnie had made it into the woods behind the barn. The image of Landon swinging from a rope sent a shiver rippling across her shoulders.