Hart's Passion (Pirates & Petticoats Book 2)

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Hart's Passion (Pirates & Petticoats Book 2) Page 8

by Chloe Flowers


  “Perhaps you damaged his ship as badly a he damaged yours.”

  Landon thought for a moment and then nodded. “It’s possible.”

  “What brought you here?”

  Landon smoothed a rebellious strand of hair from her face. “I was following stolen property. This is one of Jared’s warehouses.” He paused in thought. “A different portion of my cargo was stolen from another one of Jared’s properties. This is too big a coincidence. Especially now, with Gampo involved.”

  What was he thinking? “Do you suspect Jared had me kidnapped?”

  Landon’s face darkened dangerously. “Either it was Jared or someone who had knowledge of his business and access to his warehouse keys.” With a grim set to his jaw, he continued, “I wouldn’t eliminate Garrison as suspect yet.”

  Neither would she. In fact, she was convinced he was at the center of everything, even if Jared didn’t believe it.

  Landon stepped away from her and perused her shackles. After a quick search of Crowe’s pockets did not produce a key, he said apologetically, “I’m afraid the best I can do for now is to separate the chain from its moorings.” Landon studied the wall then grabbed the links, put his foot against the wooden planks and pulled, making cords in his neck and arms stand out under the strain. Soon, there was a mournful creak followed by a loud crack, and the wood splintered apart around the bolt, leaving Keelan with four feet of chain.

  Landon pressed his lips together ruefully. “My apologies, my love, this is the best I can do for now.”

  “It’s enough. Thank you,” she said. A shiver ran up her spine reminding her how badly her night dress was torn. Landon must have noticed as well, because he removed his coat, picked up the end of her chain, and dropped it down the left sleeve before helping her shrug into the garment.

  The covering was welcome, but the touch of the fabric against her tender wounds felt like flames across her shoulders. Landon cupped her chin, turned her face up to his, and studied her intently. It was as if he searched for something lost. Her heart pounded in her chest as his touch warmed her skin. Would he still want her after she told him?

  “I need to tell you what I learned the night Papa died,” she blurted. Somehow, getting this out and over with took precedence over everything else. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she plunged on before her courage failed her. “On his deathbed, he told me I am a bastard child—not one of his blood.” Keelan couldn’t look at him. Would she find scorn in his eyes? She fought to keep her voice firm. As shameful as her position was, she was determined to try to keep her pride from crumbling away entirely. She would not hide the truth, but neither would she live out the rest of her days in shame.

  “The items he has charged me to find are documents which will tell me the identity of my father.” She lifted her shoulders and set her jaw. “Papa left Twin Pines to Jared and enough money for me to journey back to Wind Briar to retrieve documents proving who my father is.” Still, for all that, she could not meet his gaze.

  He didn’t respond. Keelan’s heart shattered anew and fresh tears threatened to spill. What if this information made him change his mind and he decided he didn’t want her with him?

  A warm finger gently touched her chin, raising her head. “Keelan.”

  Tremulously, she focused on his face. His beautiful smile.

  Landon was smiling. Smiling. “I don’t care.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I don’t care. That isn’t important to me. You are. I want you with me.” Landon’s crystal eyes bore into hers. He took her hands in his. “Since the storm, I have been driving myself mad thinking about you. Keelan Grey, for the first time in my life, I wished to be a titled lord or wealthy land owner instead of a seafaring man, so I could court you and be deemed more worthy of your hand.”

  Landon kissed her fingers, one by one. Reaching up, he gently placed his palm on her cheek; his gaze held hers imprisoned within their azure depths, captured by those mesmerizing sapphire eyes.

  “At the ball, you agreed to sail away with me,” Landon said. “Will you still?”

  Keelan’s heart missed a beat. He still wanted her. Regardless of her station, he still wanted her with him.

  But…what about tomorrow?

  Next week?

  Next month?

  Unbidden, the image of Landon and Annette Camsby dancing at Doreen’s ball surfaced in her mind.

  How could she possibly trust her heart to him?

  How could she possibly avoid losing it to him?

  Landon pulled her closer, and she gasped at the hard heat of his body against her lightly clad chest. He lowered his head and ensnared her trembling lips with his. Her body jolted at the unexpected kiss, but the soft plying of his lips calmed her. His tongue delved deep, soft, and warm in the cavity of her mouth. A heady sensation enveloped Keelan almost as if Landon was a dark, sweet wine, and she had sipped too much of him. Her free hand involuntarily slipped up to his waist and clutched his shirt.

  A soft moan rumbled in Landon’s chest. His lips moved from her mouth to her throat. “Speak a lie and tell me you do not want to be with me, Keelan.” His voice was husky with emotion.

  “I cannot," she breathed. “I cannot deny that I want to be with you.”

  She closed her eyes and let her skin memorize the protective circle of his arms. She focused on his scent, his touch, his warmth, and willed the memory to bury itself into her mind and soul.

  Lifting her chin, he brushed his knuckles gently against her face, wiping away the new tears streaming down her cheeks. “Will you still come with me?”

  A floorboard creaked loudly and from the direction of the far doorway a voice rasped, “I’m afraid she has a previous obligation.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Keelan’s breath hitched at the voice and Landon immediately pulled her behind him.

  The small door in the far corner was open. Standing in the doorway was a tall man dressed in a black hat and cloak. In his hand, a saber glinted in the low flickering light.

  “He sounds like one of the men who took me from my bedroom.” Terror-stricken, Keelan could barely whisper, shrinking into the dark shadows of the wall. Daniel had taught her how to defend herself with a dagger and a sword, but now she had neither. He hadn’t been able to teach her how to defend herself against the fear freezing her limbs.

  Think. What would Daniel tell her to do? Use what you have on you and near you to defend and distract.

  Landon’s sword was several feet away on the floor, where he had dropped it to grab the bloody buckle of Crowe’s belt.

  “Seems I’ve lost my newly acquired warehouse full of goods,” the strange man croaked.

  “They weren’t yours to begin with,” Landon replied, clenching his fists at his sides.

  The man shifted his stance, and Keelan could now tell he had a dark cloth covering his face. His eyes glittered through jagged holes cut in the fabric.

  The man tilted his head. “Regardless, I plan to take this small investment with me, as compensation of sorts for part of me losses.” He flicked his saber at Keelan. “You’ll be coming with me, little chick.”

  “I’ll send you to hell first.” Landon eased a step forward.

  Keelan lifted her chin, grasped the links dangling from her wrist, and tried to appear as if she wasn’t terrified, but the shiver quaking through her body had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. She could do this. She would fight this man with everything she had.

  Starting with the chain around her wrist.

  The edge of the kidnapper’s saber gleamed wickedly in the sallow glow of the lantern. He flicked it at the inert form on the floor. “Did you kill him?”

  “Not yet.” Landon’s eyes hardened. His dagger made a soft hiss as he drew it from its sheath.

  The man lifted the tip of his saber toward Landon. “Stand aside, man. Ye be at a fatal disadvantage.”

  Undaunted, Landon stepped forward and over Crowe’s body, stopping inches short of
the deadly saber’s reach. His own sword now lay only a few feet to his right. He spread his arms wide, and tossed his dagger from left hand to right hand.

  “Then we have different assessments of the situation,” he responded.

  Keelan disagreed. A dagger against the long, sharp deadly saber seemed to be quite a big disadvantage to her.

  “Landon, be careful,” she whispered in terror.

  The man’s head snapped up. “Landon? As in Landon Hart? Captain Landon Hart?”

  Landon’s shoulders tensed, like a panther ready to spring. “Yes….and you are?”

  “Me Christian name ain’t well bandied about, but I’m ‘Gampo' to my men. And you owe me a ship.” He lunged at Landon.

  Landon beat the tip to the side and jumped back. “I owe you nothing!” he snarled. “Except a knife to your heart for killing my friend, Fynn Ahern.”

  Gampo straightened a little. “So it’s true, then. Ahern’s dead. A pity.” He began to circle Landon. “My intention was to run that turncoat through with my saber at close range, so I could watch his life fade for what he did to my sister.”

  Keelan frantically scanned the room for anything she could use as a weapon. She glanced at the lantern then snatched it from the spike in the wall. The shackles chinked with her movement.

  Never taking his eyes from Gampo, Landon flipped his dagger in the air and caught it by the blade. He drew his hand back as if to throw it. Gampo ducked and jabbed his saber wildly at Landon’s head.

  Keelan screamed and swung the lantern. Momentarily distracted by the lamp, the man flung his arm up to deflect an attack. Taking advantage of Keelan’s diversion, Landon dove toward his sword, tumbled neatly into a somersault, and finished upon his feet, sword in his right hand and knife in his left.

  If Gampo was surprised at the new turn of events, he didn’t show it. His only response was to grip the handle of his saber tighter.

  “Are ye aware how much a beautiful virgin is worth to a Persian trader?” the tall man sneered. “Fynn knew, I’d wager.”

  “Fynn wasn’t a slave trader.” Landon’s eyes flashed.

  Gampo looked at Keelan. “Perhaps I’ll find out how much the buzzards pay for this beautiful woman, soiled or not.”

  A low, dangerous growl from Landon breached the space between the two men. “Whatever amount it is, you’ll be in no condition to collect it.”

  Gampo’s hard laugh cut through the thick air. He chanced a brief glance at Keelan. “Watch closely, little lamb, while I cut him into half penny pieces.”

  They circled each other. Landon’s gaze flicked uneasily to Keelan. To place his body in a position to gain his sword, Landon had to move away from her. Their tormentor soon placed himself between them.

  Terror clenched her throat as Landon lunged. Gampo blocked and parried. Their blades hissed and clashed repeatedly while they circled and lunged, their grunts, and curses muffled within the closed room.

  To her horror, the large bulk of Crowe staggered upright directly in front of her. And worse, Landon appeared oblivious to the his revival. Her heart lurched as Crowe pulled a long ugly blade from his boot and began to creep silently toward Landon’s back. There was no more time for contemplating her options. She had to act now.

  The chain. Use the chain!

  Keelan grabbed the end of the chain and surged forward to fling a loop around Crowe’s neck. Startled, the man slashed at the iron. Hoping to pull him off his feet, Keelan pulled back and leaned away with all her might. Her stomach flipped in panic when her bare feet slid out from beneath her. Crowe crashed to the floor and didn’t move. She did it. She stopped him.

  With a strangled sob, she crawled to Crowe’s dagger and snatched it. Thusly armed, she untangled her chain from the pirate’s neck and scrambled to her feet, trying not to look at his head, which was cocked at an odd angle from his body.

  Gampo glanced over at Crowe, who was motionless on the floor, neck broken.

  “No!” he roared. He lunged toward her and swung his saber in fury and rage. Landon seemed to barely block the attack.

  Gampo twirled and lunged at Landon again.

  Instinctively, Landon brought his dirk down, but he could only partially deflect the blade. The saber slashed across the side of his ribcage. He twisted and crashed the butt of his handle on Gampo’s wrist, dislodging the saber. It skidded across the floorboards and disappeared into the shadows. Gampo put his head down and plowed into Landon’s wounded side. Both men crashed into the wall. Landon’s head hit the boards with a sickening thud.

  Keelan’s breath froze in her throat. Disarm. Distract. There was no time to spare. She dashed to the saber, even as Gampo struggled to his feet and pulled a dagger from his belt. The saber’s hilt was in her grasp before the pirate noticed she’d moved. Swinging the weapon up, she spun and lunged.

  The clinking chains attracted Gampo’s attention, and he cried out in surprise, barely parrying her attack with his dagger. Pain seared her back as she whirled again and sent the blade slicing toward his midsection. He stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding the bite of the saber once more.

  “Ye think ye be strong enough to scuttle me? Me cousin was taken by surprise, but I’ll not be,” he sneered. “Let’s see how ye fair against the bite of my sword, ye daughter of a double-eyed whore!” He grabbed Landon’s fallen blade and lunged.

  Dear God, what had she done? Whatever Fynn’s actions had been involving Gampo’s sister had driven the pirate to a feud with him lasting for years. Would her fate be worse for killing the pirate’s first mate and kin?

  She lifted her weapon, even as the pain from the movement almost made her swoon. Her arms shook under the weight of both sword and heavy iron chain. How long would her arms last before they gave way under the strain?

  The next parry from her weapon was weak; she brought her sword up across his body, forcing him to jump back. The weight of the weapon threw her body around, and the burn of his blade streaked across her shoulders. She cried out in pain, and when she brought her sword back around to parry, his next blow jolted the saber from her grip, and it clattered to the floor.

  He nodded toward the small door in the corner. “’Tis time for us to go. I hear footfalls in the hall and don’t wish to engage in another skirmish,” his voice was as cold as a London winter rain.

  “You will not have me willing as long as I have the strength to resist," she hissed.

  “I will have you, claw-cat, any way I deem fit.”

  Keelan chanced a quick glance at Landon. He stirred, thankfully. He was alive but wounded and unarmed.

  Distract.

  She glanced toward the door Gampo had entered earlier. A sudden sprint for freedom might spur him to follow. She took a deep breath, looped the chain around her arm and began to run. Just as she reached the door, Gampo grabbed at Landon’s coat, dropping his sword in the process. She stumbled against the doorframe.

  When the pirate tried to pull her to him and snake his arm around her neck, she squealed and plunged an elbow into his ribs. He grunted with pain, but still clamped his other hand over her mouth as he pulled her against him and hissed in her ear.

  “Be quiet, wench! If ye scream again, devil take me to the fire, ’twill be the last sound you make! I still haven’t reckoned whether I should kill ye now or later.”

  Keelan twisted her head, and his fingers slipped over her lips. She opened her mouth and bit down hard until she tasted blood.

  Cursing, he jerked his hand away. She pivoted and with every ounce of strength, buried her right elbow into his belly.

  “Oh no,” he gasped for breath while holding her chain. “Ye can’t go unaccompanied. Ain’t safe fer a ewe white lamb like ye.”

  She glared at the tall man holding her iron tether. “I will die before I allow you to sell me, you soulless bastard!”

  He yanked hard and snarled, “Ye’ll die if ye run, and ye can lay to that, says I.”

  Keelan’s fingers silently groped in the jacket pocket for
Crowe’s knife. Instinct told her to lunge for his midsection; he yanked on the chain again and she stumbled. The knife bound for his belly sank into his thigh, instead.

  His yelp pierced the still air of the cell. Dropping the chain, he clutched the hilt, and with a pained grunt, he jerked the blade free of his flesh.

  Landon crawled toward the saber, his shirt soaked with blood. At least he was alive and moving.

  Gampo shifted his attention to her and raised the bloodied knife. His lip curled back in a grimace of hatred and agony.

  “Ye has run out of blades, dearie.” He motioned to his wounded leg. “Do ye really think this little nick will hinder me too much to collect ye?”

  Keelan backed through the far doorway, groping behind her for support. Chancing a furtive glance over her shoulder, she noted the rickety stairway leading down to an alley below.

  Go! She turned and jumped down several steps to the landing. He followed, limping down the wooden stair. She’d done it. She’d drawn him away from Landon. Pausing long enough to gather up the iron links she fled down the next flight to the street below. Several shadowed shapes poured out of a broken warehouse window and fled. Gampo’s men? She hesitated. They appeared more concerned with running away than capturing her, so she continued until her feet hit the alley’s cobblestones, then took off at a dead run.

  She heard his voice hail her with hoarse fury, “Ye’ll not escape me, Keelan Grey! I will find ye or may I be damned blood, eyes, and liver! Mark this—I will hunt ye down! Ye and that yellow-eyed bastard who bought ye! Ye will pay dearly fer killing my first!”

  A sickening shiver clenched her spine. He knew her name. She ran as if the hounds of hell nipped at her heels. Where should she go?

  Daniel. He’d know what to do.

  Talons of indecision clawed at her mind. If Daniel believed she ran away, then he would wait for her at The Whistling Pig.

  She couldn’t go there dressed like this.

  The only place she could obtain clothing at this hour was Jared’s townhouse. She almost laughed at the irony. With any luck, she’d be able to sneak in, dress and sneak out. Would the servants would let her in and help her? Hopefully, she wouldn’t end up locked in her room again.

 

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