Hart's Reward (Pirates & Petticoats #3) (9 page)

“Ronnie, you know I have no memory of your da’s death nor taking Keelan to wife.”

“Aye.” Ronnie peered at him more closely. “Have ye started to remember, then?”

“No,” he sighed. “Not much anyway.” He leaned a hip against the rail. “Did you attend my wedding?”

Ronnie blinked, then shifted his weight. “Well, I was supposed to but…”

“But?”

“Well, we were waiting in Harbour Town for Conal before walking to the church when his first mate found us and told us that pirates had taken the
Seeker
.” His shoulders slumped and his voice dropped, sullen and low. “Brendan weighed anchor and gave chase, leaving me behind.” He kicked at a coiled rope. “I don’t think he trusted me to be good enough with a saber and pistol.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared glumly over the ocean. “Then we set sail for Charleston.”

A jolt hammered through his chest. “So, are you saying that we never made it to the church?”

Ronnie shook his head, still staring at the rise and fall of the sea against the hull. “Within a couple hours, the
Desire
weighed anchor. You told me that Keelan would have to be disguised until we left the Charleston, because she had a price on her head. The crew couldn’t know who she was, it had to stay a secret.”

The evening he found her in his cabin, Keelan had mentioned something about the need for her charade but he’d been too distracted by her bare breasts to listen to much of what she’d said. It was mesmerizing, really. The dark tan line across her chest made the ivory tone of her breasts almost glow in the dim light of his cabin. Pale, pink peaks had hardened when he placed his palm on her creamy white stomach. Her breath had hitched in her chest, and her skin trembled beneath his fingers.
 

This was a horrible time to relive that scene. “What kind of price was on her head?”
 

Ronnie shrugged a bony shoulder. “I don’t know. You never gave a reason why or what the finder’s reward would be.” He turned and stared hard at Landon. “It didn’t seem to matter to you, then.”

“It matters now,” Landon replied. Something swirled in his mind, becoming thicker and darker every second. What if she was looking for something else in his cabin? What if she was searching for information? Did she know he had documents for President Madison hidden in his desk? He was to send them with the Freedom Runners. The British impressment of merchant crews kept increasing, and Brendan’s spies had learned the British were planning attacks on New Orleans and Baltimore. After Landon read through all his journals, Gus had filled in the more sensitive information he’d dared not write down, such as the items hidden in his desk. Did he dare mention it to the boy? Where did Ronan’s loyalties lie?
 

“She’s British.” He waited for Ronan’s reaction. “How do we know she’s not a spy? What if she had something to do with the
Glory
being called out to sea early only to be set upon by a group of British warships?”

Ronnie’s eyes widened and he glanced sideways in Keelan’s direction. “How could you possibly think that? What facts have you put together to come to that conclusion?”

Landon clenched his jaw before responding. “It’s just something that’s been bothering me. She told me I had arranged with Commodore Hall for her to travel north on the
Glory
; however, an American Naval vessel rarely takes passengers, especially a woman. At least not normally.”
 

Landon rubbed his palm across his face, then gripped his head as if the pressure would fill the voids. The gaps in his memory were infuriating. He turned toward Ronnie. “If I had introduced them, then Hall would have considered any missive he received from her as reliable. What if she created a false missive to draw him out to their trap? We have precious few warships as it is, losing the
USS Glory
would have been a devastating loss for the United States.”

Ronnie inhaled deeply. “I only met her the day you were to be wed. I can’t help you with anything that occurred prior to that.” He shifted his gaze over to Keelan and Daniel, who were now working with a few members of the crew, throwing knives at the makeshift target. “Perhaps if you make inquiries in Charleston, you’ll find answers to those questions.”

Landon nodded. “In the interim, keep a weathered eye on her. I’ve heard too many lies fall from her lips to trust her even for a second.” He scowled at the chit even as his gut tightened as she put her hands on her back and arched it, stretching tightened muscles. The swells and curves hidden beneath the long linen shirt and vest were imprinted on his mind from the other evening. He didn’t trust her, but damn if he didn’t want her just the same.

“Well, married or not, she slept in your cabin, although the rest of the crew thinks you let her hang her hammock there because she was seasick, and needed a quick path to the rail.” Ronnie said.

“Devil take me if I remember any of it,” Landon said through his teeth.
 

Ronnie squared his shoulders and moved his lanky frame toward the ladder. “I’m going to ask her and Kahlil to train me with long and short blades. Next time I see Brendan, I want him to regret leaving me behind like a child.”

Landon stretched his shoulders, still sore and bruised. Something else bothered him. She avoided contact. Gus reached over to clap her on the back and she ducked away. Why? Kahlil quickly stepped forward and said a few words to the first mate. That clinched it. The two, Keelan and Daniel, were together in whatever scheme they’d plotted. Although Daniel was old enough to be Keelan’s father, he could be her partner. Maybe even her husband or …lover.
 

One thing he knew for certain; both were British and not to be trusted.

He’d learn more in Charleston from his underground contacts.

The
Desire
made port in the early evening. The sun was sinking in the sky, throwing its last beams of light over the horizon in a final effort to grasp the day. After thanking Louis for his offering of dead rat on her bed, Keelan helped Marcel clean up and stow away the galley staples before she went topside.
 

Landon had given the crew a short shore leave but warned them to be prepared to depart the port as early as noon the next day. They were instructed to keep watch for the blue Peter flag signaling all back aboard.

Landon had instructed Daniel to give the horses some exercise and board them overnight at the livery near the pier. Daniel had seen to their off-loading and awaited Keelan to join him.
 

She focused on rounding her shoulders and lengthening her stride while she made her way down the plank and to the pier. She was getting better at it. No one gave her a second look. Daniel handed her Juliet’s lead rope, and they walked toward the livery. His jaw clenched tightly and he continuously scanned the docks, while she made a determined effort to avoid looking around. Did any of the men loyal to Gampo still spy on the docks, keeping an eye open for Keelan Grey and the opportunity to collect the price on her head? Would her disguise be enough to keep her safe?

 
They boarded the horses without incident and exercised them in the paddock to stretch their legs. Daniel put Orion, Landon’s horse, in his stall while Keelan worked with Juliet.
 

“I would give up my rations for a week to have a warm bath with soap and jasmine water,” Keelan sighed, placing her arms on the rail of the corral behind the stable. She laughed as Juliet’s foal hopped and kicked his legs, happy to have the freedom to do so. He bounced up to Keelan and touched her knee through the fence with his velvety nose then trotted back to pause for a moment and nurse at his mother’s side.

Daniel gave her a sidelong glance. “Mrs. Schoen would probably happily prepare a bath for you in her secret pantry.”

“As much as I loathed being hidden away there, I’d return in a thrice for a bath.” Could she hope for a bath? “Do you think we should risk going into the tavern?” After Keelan had escaped from the pirates who’d kidnapped her, Daniel had hidden her at The Whistling Pig Tavern, which was also part of the Freedom Runner underground. Unfortunately, it was also favored by dockworkers. If one wanted to know anything going on at the docks, they only had to spend an hour or two at the Whistling Pig.

“We’ll go in from the ally through the kitchen door.” He jerked his chin toward the tavern. “We can rent a room for you and you can bathe and get a good night’s rest in a bed, rather than a hammock.”

Keelan smiled her delight and together they headed toward the tavern.

People were everywhere, in various conveyances, on horseback or on foot. A light cloud cover had dimmed the heat of the sun’s rays, making the evening walk warm but pleasant. They cut through the marketplace where the enticing aroma of fried pies made her mouth water and she purchased two of the hand-sized delights and ate them both before they turned down the street toward The Whistling Pig. The familiar city sounds, like the jingle and clank of carriages and high pitched voices of hawkers were almost as soothing for Keelan as the snap of the sails and groans from the bones of the
Desire
. Keelan paused.
 

Almost as soothing?
 

She wrinkled her nose, stepping over a pile of horse dung. Salt spray was far more pleasing. She’d always loved the sights and sounds of city life and had never considered that a different atmosphere would take its place in her heart. The
Desire
provided a safe haven and aside from recent events, had become her home. The excitement of a city bustling with every manner of humanity had been replaced by the thrill of sails moving to catch the wind while men crawled over, around and under them, and the exhilaration of flying over the water aboard the
Desire
with the man she loved.

Who thinks of me as nothing more than a cabin boy.
 

If Landon’s memories were erased for good, then her path would take a completely different course. Either she would accompany Daniel north to Boston and start her life over there, or stay with Landon until they met up with her brother. Conal would see her safely back to their parents, where again, she’d have to start a new life. There was no scenario that brought as much joy to her heart than the one where Landon’s memories return. She had to keep trying. Somehow she’d find a way to get him to remember that he was in love with her.

Just as they were about to duck into the alley to skirt around to the back of the establishment, Landon walked out and caught sight of Keelan. He lowered his brows and strode toward them.

“What are you doing here? I instructed Ronan to tell you to remain on the ship.” He stopped in front of them, his hands clenched at his sides.

Daniel and Keelan exchanged surprised looks. Uncertain why he would confine them to the ship, and infuriated that he would even consider doing so, she stepped forward and tilted her chin up to meet his gaze.

 
“Ronnie had already departed when I finished helping Marcel in the galley. Daniel and I have just seen to the horses and now, if you will step aside, I’m going to enjoy a bath and a comfortable bed for a few hours.”

“You will return to the ship,” Landon growled.
 

“I will
not
,” Keelan whispered in a hiss.
 

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation privately,” Daniel said in a low voice as he glanced up and down the thoroughfare.

Landon raked his eyes over her head to toe then studied Daniel, a murderous glint in his gaze. He finally gave her a lecherous leer and lowered his face to hers. “No need. I think I understand your intentions.”

Sounds from the street muted and Keelan’s ears warmed at the harshness of Landon’s words. His meaning was clear; he believed he’d interrupted their plans for a tryst. The skin on her face felt as if a brush had been swept across it. She wanted scream at him, pummel his chest with her fists until his heart hurt as much as hers, shake him until the new Landon’s memories flew out, and her Landon’s memories returned. It seemed at every turn, he found another reason not to trust her.

Before she could correct him, a husky female voice hailed him.

“Good evening, Captain Hart.”

Keelan’s jaw tightened at the familiar voice of Landon’s ex-mistress, Annette Camsby. Keelan glanced sideways at the carriage which had just paused next to them. Distracted by the interruption, Landon did the same. His stern countenance smoothed and he smiled with a flash of white teeth, eyes bright with recognition.

“Mrs. Wainwright, what a pleasant surprise. You look ravishing, as always.” He moved to stand by the coach to offer his hand in assistance.

Annette froze. “Why, Landon, I haven’t gone by the name Wainwright in years. My last husband’s name was Camsby, although I don’t expect you to keep track.” She gave a light laugh and accepted his assistance to alight from the carriage.

A flicker of frustration dimmed Landon’s smile but he recovered quickly. “My pardon, Annette,” he said, using her name with the same familiarity as she’d used his. He kissed her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. “May I offer you an escort?”

A mask of confusion fell over Annette’s face as she accepted his arm and shifted her gaze back and forth between Keelan and him. When they’d last seen her, Landon had introduced Keelan to her as his wife, prompting Annette to almost run from his cabin. Sensing a dissension, Annette’s smile returned and she hugged his arm to her side, just under her breast, causing Keelan’s jaw to clench tighter than an angry clam.
 

“Of course you may escort me.” Annette almost purred the words. She arched a challenging brow at Keelan, who glared back. If her gaze had been a blade, Annette Camsby would now be slashed into a thousand pieces.

“Were you not bound for Philadelphia? What brings you back so quickly to Charleston?” Annette adjusted her bonnet. “Has your wife actually persuaded you to become a landlubber and run her daddy’s plantation?” Annette managed to appear both innocent and beseeching.

“Plantation?” Landon gave Keelan a cool stare before returning his attention to Annette.