Mutiny of the Heart

by McDonough, Vickie;

  “I sincerely doubt that. A relationship that’s worth its salt must be built on truth and not secrets.”

  “You’re right.” He gestured to a chair behind her. “Would you care to sit?”

  Heather shook her head. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  “I suppose I should start telling you about Marcus.”

  “Who is Marcus?”

  Lucas loathed mentioning his brother’s name. He couldn’t tell Heather the whole truth—that Marcus was really Jamie’s father—but she deserved to know most of the story. He faced her again, seeing the curiosity gleaming in her lovely eyes. “Marcus is my brother. My twin brother.”

  Her mouth formed an O, but she remained silent.

  “He was born just a few minutes after me, but you know the traditions of England and of the father passing down his holdings to his eldest son. We may have lived in America, and my father’s family in Barbados, but Father was still English, through and through.

  “As a boy, Marcus was happy and content with our mother’s love and attention, but as we grew older, he became aware of how our father favored me.” Lucas clenched his jaw. He’d have gladly shared the family wealth with his brother, but his father wouldn’t hear of it. “When Marcus realized that he could never compete for our father’s love or his blessing, he began rebelling. He started drinking at a young age and causing all sorts of trouble. Mother tried to keep him reined in, but her love wasn’t enough anymore.”

  Heather laid her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Lucas. I understand. My father didn’t have a son, and if he had retained his wealth, it would have gone to my cousin rather than to me.”

  He nodded, glad she understood the situation at least partially. He took her hand and continued. “Marcus and I had a falling out, and then he left. I haven’t seen him in nearly a decade.” Close to eight years, he wanted to tell her, but then she might piece things together.

  “It must be difficult being separated from your only sibling. I have none, so I can’t imagine what that feels like.”

  “It does bother me, but Marcus caused so much trouble I actually felt relieved that he was gone.” But fiercely angered that he took Deborah with him.

  “Thank you for telling me. Your mother mentioned having two sons, but I never asked her about that.”

  He appreciated that his mother left the decision up to him as to how much to tell Heather about Marcus. As much as he’d like to end the conversation about his past, he had to tell Heather about his time in the navy, and he dreaded doing so for fear she’d no longer want to have anything to do with him.

  “Nothing you’ve said so far could change how I feel for you. Did you think my affections were so shallow?”

  Lucas gritted his teeth, wishing he didn’t have to continue. “You’ve not heard all. During the Revolution, I served the colonies as a privateer. I would sometimes raid British ships and steal their cargo.”

  Heather’s eyes went wide, and her struggle was evident.

  Please, heavenly Father, don’t let me lose her over this.

  “A British seventy-four-gun man-of-war could hurl tons of hot iron with a few of her broadsides, but she wasn’t much use when she ran aground. I captained a sleek Chesapeake Bay schooner, armed with a handful of six-pounder cannons. We’d run the blockade, easily outsailing Britain’s larger ships, and slip away to the West Indies to trade tobacco for gunpowder and cash or credit to support the Revolution.”

  Heather’s hands gripped the porch railing, but she didn’t comment.

  “We were fighting for our freedom.”

  “Was it so terrible being a British colony?”

  “We were heavily taxed but had no say in how things were run here. We were under the authority of a ruler who lived across the ocean, one who cared little about what happened here, save to extract burdensome taxes from us.” He turned her to face him. “We’ve set up our own government and laws that will benefit the people of this great land. We’re free now. Do you know how that feels?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t suppose I do.”

  “What I did still haunts me, even though the deeds were done under the guise of war. After I became a Christian, I gave up sailing, though I love it. I build ships, but I haven’t sailed on the open seas since the war ended.” He heaved a sigh, glad to have told her about his past. It would be up to her whether she found it within herself to forgive him for the deeds perpetrated against her countrymen or if she left at first light.

  Heather’s heart ached from the heavy burden that Lucas had heaped on her. She ought to be livid that he’d fought against Britain and possibly her own father, but that was all in the past. What bothered her most was how his own heart must hurt over his estrangement from his brother.

  “So, do you hate me now?” Lucas asked.

  “Nay, even though a part of me says I should.”

  His tight expression relaxed, and he blew out a breath.

  “But there’s something I don’t understand. You told me that God loves us and forgives past sins once we’ve confessed them, and I believe that now, so why do you feel you have to give penance by giving up sailing?”

  He shrugged. “I just do. It’s difficult for someone else to understand.”

  She shook her head and ran her hand down his arm. “I think you’re wrong, Lucas. If you’re forgiven, God wouldn’t expect you to endure penance. The blood of Christ has set us free.”

  His brows dipped down. “You don’t understand. It’s not just the war; it’s Marcus, too. I should have done more to keep him here.” He waved his hand in the air. “I didn’t ask for all of this. I’d have gladly shared it with him. I just had to wait until after my father died, because he was so set against it. Once the estate and business became mine, I was free to do with them as I wished. But Marcus couldn’t wait. He wanted things when he wanted them. Even—”

  She gazed up at him. “Even what?”

  He turned his back to her. “Nothing. I was afraid explaining all this would drive you away. I don’t expect you to understand.” He walked inside then spun back around. “And please forget this nonsense about having a party for me. It isn’t necessary.”

  She opened her mouth to call to him as he strode away, but she remained quiet instead. If anything, she was the one who should be upset. Imagine kindhearted, generous Lucas a privateer. A warrior fighting for his freedom against an overwhelmingly strong opponent. Nobody expected the colonists to win the war, but they had by their grit and determination.

  Had God been on their side all along?

  fourteen

  Heather stared at her list of things to do before the night of Lucas’s birthday party and heaved a sigh. How would she accomplish it all?

  Footsteps drew her away from her task. Amelia glided into the room, her face glowing from her afternoon rest. “How are things progressing, my dear?”

  “I fear I may have overestimated my abilities.”

  “Pshaw.” Amelia waved her hand in the air. “It’s a simple thing to organize a gathering. Make a list of food, and I’ll see to it that Miss Haversham, our housekeeper in Charleston, gets it. She will arrange everything.”

  “It doesn’t seem fair to ask her to take on such a big event.”

  “Nonsense. It’s part of her duties. The Reeds have entertained far too little. Lucas has no desire to plan such events, and I confess that my heart hasn’t been in it either.”

  “Am I wrong to want to do this?” Heather leaned her cheek against her hand.

  Amelia rested her palm on Heather’s arm. “No dear. It’s a fine thing you want to do and will be good for Lucas. Besides, it will be the perfect time to make an announcement about Jamie.”

  Heather smiled. “I want to thank you and Lucas for so willingly accepting Jamie into your family. I know it can’t have been easy for either of you,”

  Amelia glanced around the parlor. “Where is my grandson?”

  “Lucas took him riding. They’re on a quest to find an alligator.�
��

  Amelia chuckled. “Boys will be boys.” She sobered and gazed into Heather’s eyes. “I should be thanking you for bringing Jamie to us. That boy has given me new life. I’d given up hope on Lucas marrying and becoming a father. Jamie is a wonderful boy.”

  “I think of all the wasted time I put in worrying about bringing him to you. I wish I could have done it sooner. I wish Deborah would have had the nerve to face Lucas once she learned she was with child.”

  Amelia pursed her lips and looked away. “Lucas loved her so much. He would have welcomed her return. But life for her would have been difficult with people knowing she’d borne a child out of wedlock. I can understand why she chose to stay away.”

  “What of her parents? I don’t believe she ever told them of Jamie.”

  “I don’t know. All I heard was that they returned to England after spending much of their wealth and several years searching for her.”

  “‘Tis sad they couldn’t have enjoyed Jamie while he was so young.”

  Amelia tapped the table. “Perhaps I should write to them. They should know they have a grandson.”

  Heather straightened, doubt niggling at her. “But what if they decide to seek custody?”

  “Hmm … I can see where that could be an issue. Perhaps Lucas should have some kind of legal document proving Jamie is his son. I do believe the law holds that a child first belongs to his father.”

  “Aye. ‘Tis a wise idea. I can testify that Deborah admitted Lucas is Jamie’s father. And Lucas has that letter from her. That could be entered in as evidence.”

  “I’m not sure that would be helpful.” Amelia rose suddenly and tugged on a long narrow tapestry that rang a bell in the kitchen. “Some tea would taste good right about now.”

  “Aye, it would.” She glanced down at her list of party guests. “Will the Charleston house be too crowded if we invite twenty people?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Besides the dining room and the great room, we can use the piazza. We should be able to easily handle that number.”

  “Here’s the list of names you gave me. Is there anyone we should add before we issue the invitations?”

  Amelia quickly read down the page. The maid walked up to the table and waited. “I suppose there are always others to invite, but I don’t want Lucas to feel overwhelmed. He’s not one for crowds.” She looked up. “Oh Talia, would you please bring tea and biscuits for Miss Hawthorne and me?”

  “Aye, ma’am.” The maid scurried from the room, her feet tapping across the wooden floor.

  “Lucas asked me to cease plans for the party,” Heather said. “Do you think we should?”

  Amelia shook her head. “No, it will be good for him. You’re good for him.”

  Heather’s cheeks warmed. She flashed an embarrassed smile and looked away. “I’m not so sure of that.”

  Lucas’s mother leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. “I am. For so long, Lucas has been caught up in his work. He not only oversees the shipbuilding enterprise, but it’s nothing for him to actually get out there and work on a ship himself. Many of our stature looked down on him for doing such menial labor.”

  “But you don’t?” Heather could easily see Lucas hanging from a rope, sanding wood or hammering the side of a vessel.

  “No, I think it’s admirable that he wants to experience every facet of the business. I believe it helps him to better understand the complete workings.” “You’re an unusual woman, Amelia.”

  She cocked her head and smiled. “Thank you, dear. We have too many close-minded people in Charleston. God would have us look at things from different vantage points. Take slavery, for instance. It’s an abysmal, degrading venture.” She shook her head and pressed her lips together. “I’ve heard of planters who have broken up slave families. Separated husbands from wives, children from parents. I fear God will punish us one day for mistreating His people so.”

  “‘Tis refreshing to hear someone from the South speak in such a manner. How do your neighbors tolerate your attitude?”

  Amelia rose and walked to the open double doors and stared out at the garden. “We have enemies, certainly, but there are others who believe as we do yet simply can’t afford to free their slaves and in turn pay them a wage.”

  Heather stood and crossed the room to stand beside Amelia. “Well, I for one admire you for not keeping slaves.” She shivered as a thought raced across her mind. If she left and returned to Canada, she would know just what it was like to be separated from the child she loved.

  “I know of a nice string quartet we could hire to play for the party. Would you like that?”

  Heather nodded. “Aye, but I do feel odd that the party was my suggestion and you’re having to pay for it all.”

  Amelia wrapped an arm around Heather. “Lucas is my son. I should have been the one to think of the party, and I thank you for your suggestion. It’s a grand idea. If only …”

  “Are you thinking of Marcus?”

  Amelia’s eyes widened. “You know of him?”

  “Lucas told me yesterday. I can’t imagine how much it must hurt you to never see him.”

  She shrugged and faced the garden. “Let’s walk while we’re waiting for the tea.”

  Amelia took Heather’s arm and led her outside and downstairs. The fragrant scent of roses and a myriad of other colorful flowers filled her senses. Yellow butterflies flitted from flower to flower, sampling the sweet nectar. Wisteria clung to a wooden archway, its flowers looking like fresh grapes ripe for the picking. What must it be like to enjoy such beauty almost year-round? The South was growing on her, although she could well do without the heat.

  “Marcus was always a morose child who grew into a cranky, discontented young man. Lucas, on the other hand, was a pleasant boy, obedient and eager to please. I tried to give Marcus what he needed. From the time they were born, Cedric lavished praise on Lucas and all but ignored his other son. Dreadful shame, it was. Marcus’s jealousy grew until it couldn’t be contained.”

  Heather patted Amelia’s arm. “How difficult that must have been for all of you.”

  “If only Cedric had loved Marcus as he did Lucas, I believe things would have turned out all right. I think Lucas has been hurt the most by all of this. His heart is tender, even now, and it crushed him when Marcus left and—”

  Heather had the distinct feeling that Amelia had just censured what she was about to say, but she shrugged off the thought. Of course there were things Amelia couldn’t tell her.

  “I wish he’d return to us, but sad to say, I don’t believe I shall ever see him again.” She leaned in close. “There’s talk that he’s a pirate. It grieves me so to think such a thing of my own son.”

  Heather shook her head, amazed that twin brothers could turn out so different. If Marcus was truly as wicked as Lucas was good, she hoped their paths never crossed.

  Heather opened the door of Jamie’s bedchamber and peered down the hallway at the growing crowd in the second-floor great room. Soft music drifted toward her, along with the chatter of voices. She should go back, but she felt so out of place among Lucas’s friends and associates. “When do I get to go to the party?”

  Heather closed the door and smiled at Jamie. “Soon. When your father is ready.” She stooped down, her blue taffeta silk skirts rustling, and smoothed Jamie’s collar. He looked striking with his dark hair and vivid blue eyes in his new, white cotton suit, though the ruffled collar and cuffs were a bit too fancy for a lad, in her opinion. “You look mighty handsome.”

  “Will I get to eat?”

  She blew out a breath. “You can’t fool me. I know that you’ve already eaten.”

  He leaned against her. “Please, can’t I have at least one sweet?”

  “We shall see. It’s close to your bedtime.” She smoothed down his hair where it stood on end. “Do you understand the importance of tonight?”

  He nodded.

  “Tonight your father is announcing to his close friends that he
has a son.”

  “Why don’t they already know that?”

  “They may.” And she was sure they did and were filled with questions about where said lad had come from. “You are to smile but not talk. Do you understand?”

  Jamie nodded again. “These shoes hurt my feet.”

  “Well, you shan’t be wearing them all that long. Try to act like a gentleman. And if anyone asks about your mother, please don’t say anything. Especially don’t tell them her name.”

  “Why not?” Innocent blue eyes stared up at her.

  How did she explain that Lucas wanted to protect Deborah? To not sully her family name? “Because your father wishes it to remain a secret.”

  Jamie’s brow wrinkled, and he stared up at the ceiling as if thinking deeply. “What did my mother look like?”

  “Oh dear lad.” She pulled him against her skirts, just as a knock sounded at the door. He was only two when his mother died. How could he remember what Deborah looked like when her image was fading even from Heather’s mind? “We should talk more about her, but not tonight.” She pulled open the door and revealed the footman.

  “Mr. Reed is ready for you and the boy, miss.”

  “Thank you. We shall be there directly.” She shut the door and turned back to Jamie. “Are you ready?”

  He nodded and hurried to her side, taking her hand.

  “Mind your manners. This is a very important evening for your father and your grandmother. You don’t want to embarrass them.”

  “Aye, mum.”

  Heather’s heart pounded as she made her way down the hall. What would Lucas’s guests think of his son? Would they reject him? Cast crude comments his way? Eye him with disdain? Please, Lord, no.

  fifteen

  Lucas’s gaze shifted toward Heather the moment she entered the room. The footman rang a bell for attention, and when the room quieted, he announced, “Miss Heather Hawthorne and Master Jamie.”

  Whispers resounded in speculation as Lucas strode forward to meet his son and the woman who’d stolen his heart. His mother joined them, coming from the other side of the room. Heather looked enchanting in her pale blue gown and with her hair curled, and Jamie looked like a miniature of Lucas. No one would doubt their relationship, though he was sure they’d question where the boy had been the past five years.