The Wild Belle (St. John Series)

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The Wild Belle (St. John Series) Page 10

by Lora Thomas

“Hmm? Oh!” she said as a blush came to her face. She stood and the wind caught the hem of her pale blue skirt, raising it slightly above her ankle. Her hair was pulled up in a braided bun, but several long blond locks were attempting to escape. He watched her walk towards the large oak at the path. He quickly exited the lake and dressed.

  “You may return now,” Michael called to Andi.

  She emerged from the path, holding a pink, wild rose to her nose. She smiled at him again. He could tell something was troubling her. She looked at him and her eyes lacked their normal spark.

  “When are you leavin’?”

  “Just as soon as I untie Ghost.”

  “No,” she replied and she shook her head. “I mean, when are you leavin’ Beaufort.”

  “Next week, after the wedding. Why?”

  She didn’t know why she had asked that. She had been so moody since she left with Abigail last week. Granted, she had volunteered after the incident here with him, but at the time, she just needed to get away. But when she was away, she wanted to return—to see him. He made her feel wanted, attractive. He didn’t mind the fact that she was outspoken and adventurous.

  “Abigail said that Stephen was hopin’ you would attend the weddin’. You have made quite the impression on him,” she said in order to save face.

  “Oh,” he replied, with apparent disappointment. “Well, I better leave so you can swim.”

  Andi watched with a heavy heart as Michael mounted Ghost and disappeared down the path. She had one more week with him and then she would never see him again. She had two more months and he would be forever out of her reach.

  Chapter Eleven

  Michael had a disgruntled look to his face as he scanned the plantation yard out of his window. The grounds were becoming crowded with the partygoers and it was just nine-thirty in the morning. The festivities weren’t scheduled to begin for another hour, and if this many people had arrived early, he hated to see how many would be here when the festivities actually began.

  He turned away from the window and donned his waistcoat. He took in his appearance in the oval floor-length looking glass. He despised the knee breeches that were fashionable and chose to wear longer pants. The navy pants fit him perfectly, clinging tightly to his muscular thighs, and were tucked into his Hessian boots. He loosened the top button of his white lawn shirt to allow the heat to escape his body. Adjusting the hem of his coat, he picked off a short gray cat hair. That blasted cat had made herself at home in his room. Every time he turned around he found that cat either curled up on his bed or on top of his clothing.

  As if she could sense his thoughts, the cat in question strolled nonchalantly out from under the bed and hopped up onto the flower-patterned chair beside him. She placed her paws up on the wooden arms and let out a demanding meow.

  Michael reached over and scratched the top of the cat’s head. “Stay out of my bed today, puss. I don’t like waking covered in cat hair.”

  The cat answered with a loud purr, hopped down and then jumped out the open window.

  Michael exited his room and nearly knocked over a rather plump, older brunette woman.

  “Begging your pardon, Madam.”

  The woman looked up at Michael, apparently displeased at being touched. Her voice had a disparaging tone while she complained. “Hmmp, you foreigners need to watch where you’re going.”

  “And you yanks need to mind your manners,” Michael warned in a stiffly indignant tone.

  The woman’s eyes grew wide at the insult. “I’ll have you know that I am Mrs. Edith Windstrum! My husband has a great amount of influence in state government. And if you know what’s good for you, you will apologize immediately.”

  “My apologies,” Michael began with a deliberate pause to watch her reaction. She seemed rather pleased with his apology until he added, “for your husband.” He tilted his head at her in a dismissive manner and proceeded down the hall.

  “Why, of all the gall!” she hissed at his back. Michael heard her command her slave to place her baggage in the room adjacent to his.

  So she was to be his neighbor until he departed. He had gathered that several guests were going to stay at the plantation until after the wedding next week. Michael wasn’t pleased with the news. He enjoyed the peace and tranquility the Double Oasis offered. He liked routine. He liked schedules. Spontaneity stressed him. Guests would mean a break in the routine and schedule he had established, and if they all were as hospitable as Mrs. Windstrum, then he would be in for a miserable week.

  He descended the stairs and proceeded out the front door. He walked over to the far end of the veranda and took in the guests. Many more had arrived since he last looked out the window. His eyes scanned the lawn in search of a familiar face. His gaze landed on Stephen waving. Michael acknowledged the wave with a tilt of his head and walked towards the younger man.

  “Have you ever seen such a gathering?” Stephen questioned in awe, obviously pleased with the turnout. “Why I believe over half of Beaufort County is here! I can only hope that this many turn out for my wedding. Not that I would care, but it would mean the world to Abigail.”

  “I am certain you will have just as many guests. Weddings seem to bring out everyone.”

  “Quite right,” Stephen agreed. He pointed to a man in the distance. “That man coming there is Charles Pinckney. He’s part of the state legislative system. If you want to get connections, he is your man.” Stephen looked at Michael. “Then again, he’s not too fond of Brits and that accent of yours has a definite British ring to it.”

  “And why is that?” Michael questioned, raising a brow at Stephen.

  “From the way I hear it, he was held prisoner during the War. He was granted freedom as long as he agreed to not raise a hand towards the British soldiers. It was soon found out that he had no love or loyalty to the King. He was recaptured and held in an encampment just outside of Charleston.”

  “I see. Well, should I have a conversation with the man, I will downplay my accent.”

  “Splendid! Now if you’ll excuse me, I see my lovely bride-to-be.”

  Michael watched as Stephen nearly ran to Abigail. Young love. Lovesick fools. He would never understand it. Love made intelligent men behave like fools. They lost all common sense and reasoning.

  Michael looked around the grounds and spotted Andi at that time. She looked stunning. She had her hair braided on each side and pulled up in the back, creating two interlocking loops. The peach gown she wore sat off the shoulders and was high in the waist. Her waist was cinched with a wide cream ribbon. When she turned he noticed her cream colored petticoats as the dress V’d downward at the waist. She pulled at the black ribbon around her neck.

  Anger began to build in Michael as he watched Peterson approach her. She smiled sweetly at the man, but Michael could tell it was a façade. He had seen a true smile from Andi and it would dull the appearance of the sun.

  * * * *

  A strained smile crossed Andi’s face at the man her mother introduced her to—Egbert Peterson. And he did not disappoint. He looked just like the other Petersons—a buzzard. He was tall and thin with no muscle to speak of. His arms resembled chicken wings. The beak-like nose did little to dissuade from the shrill, nasally voice he possessed. With each word he spoke, Andi could feel chills run down her spine. Why in this world did her parents ever pair her with this man? They would have been better off pairing her with a snake—at least they were easy to distract—and if need be, killed.

  Andi felt her stomach churn when Egbert placed his hand on the small of her back to usher her away from the small crowd growing around them.

  “Would you like a large wedding?” Egbert asked her.

  A distressed look crossed her face at the mention of marriage. “No,” she whispered.

  “Really?”

  Be unappealing, her inner voice said. “I don’t like crowds. In fact, people irritate me. I find that . . . they give me the vapors.” Flipping open the lace fan around her
wrist, she began fanning herself to prove her statement true. “Crowds are stressing. I can’t breathe around them. In fact, I only prefer the company of my horse. She understands me. She can sense my needs and wants. She knows exactly how fast I like to go and when to jum—”

  “There will be none of that once we are wed,” Peterson interrupted. “You will be expected to behave as your title of Countess commands. No racing horses or speaking out of turn. You will have parties to host and attend. You must acquaint yourself with the ton without hesitation. It is imperative that you get into the proper circles.”

  “For whom? Me or you?” Andi asked peevishly.

  “Watch your tone, Andrea,” Peterson warned.

  “I am who I am. I do not need your approval. Do not think that just because we are to wed that you can dictate my life. I hav—”

  “You are to be my wife. I your husband. Once we are wed, you are to do exactly as I command. I will not have a wife who disobeys me.”

  “Then I suggest you find someone else to be your wife,” Andi snapped.

  A derisive snort escaped Peterson. “The contract has been signed.”

  “Then break it.”

  A sneer crossed the tall buzzard’s face. “I think not. Your dowry is significantly more than your sisters’.”

  A deep crevice appeared between Andrea’s eyes. “All you’re interested in is money. It must be awful to be so controlled by greed and gold.”

  Peterson looked around and found that they were out of view of others. His hand snaked out and roughly grabbed Andi’s upper arm. He squeezed hard causing her to cry out with pain and shock. “Hear me now, Andrea. I will not tolerate disobedience or independence in my wives. If you insist on behaving this way, you may find yourself trapped in England, never to return to visit your family.”

  “You would refuse to allow me to visit my family?”

  “Yes. Once we are wed, you will belong to me. I can do whatever I want with you and to you, and there is nothing you or your family can do about it. If you defy me, you may find yourself locked in your room for the remainder of your life.” He noticed the daring in her eyes. “Do not think of defying me, Andrea. For I have a heavy hand and know how to use it well.”

  His warning was not missed. Andi’s eyes blasted him with a fulminating glare.

  He could sense her defiance. “Do not think about telling anyone about this discussion. For if you do, you will regret it—considerably. I would hate to see a tragedy befall one of your sisters. It would be terribly misfortunate if something should happen to Abigail just before her wedding. And pretty little Alyssa. What a shame it would be if her body were to be found along the river so soon after her debut.”

  “Leave my sisters out of this,” Andi ordered, fire flashing from her green eyes.

  The evil man said nothing as his eyes lowered with warning.

  “I will not keep quiet about this,” Andi warned. “Should something happen to my sisters, I will kill you.”

  “Nothing will happen to me. For you see, if you should speak a word of this, your body will be found with your sisters. Your parents will be devastated. However, your other sisters’ dowries will increase—leaving me to acquire those monies through . . . Ashton. She is quite the woman with high ambitions. Her sexual prowess has kept me entertained here recently and probably will for awhile, but I will soon grow tired of her. Either way, I will have your money.”

  Andi paled and stared in horror at the ominous words spoken by the evil man her parents had paired her to.

  “Now, I see your mother. Let’s go speak with her. We have much to discuss to prepare for our wedding.”

  * * * *

  Michael clenched his jaw and his eyes narrowed at the sight of Andrea and Egbert together. He despised Peterson. For the life of him, he could not figure out why Eli hadn’t killed that bastard years ago. Michael’s thoughts were jolted back to reality when someone patted his back. He turned to find Ott at his side.

  “Beautiful day, isn’t it, Michael?”

  “Yes, sir, it is.”

  “Well, you are in for a treat. Hezekiah makes the best roasted pork in all of South Carolina. The pig has been smoking over apple wood since early yesterday morning.”

  “Sounds delicious.”

  “It will be. Combine that with woolly britches and you are in for a treat.”

  “Wooly britches?”

  “Wild greens—at least that is what my mother always called them. The name stuck with me and I have been calling them that ever since. Now come along, I have some folks I want you to meet. You can use that silver tongue of yours and talk them rascals into shippin’ with you.”

  Michael looked at Andi one more time and then followed Ott. He needed to get her away from Peterson. He was a dangerous man and she did not need to be in his company.

  Ott introduced Michael to several men from the Charleston area. They sold everything from sweet grass baskets to silver goods, from clothing to intricately carved wooden boxes. They had a mixing pot of merchandise and all with valuable potential to an outside market. Michael talked with the men until noon. When finished he had seven more contracts to write up. The men unanimously agreed that if Ott trusted him, then he was trustworthy. Apparently Ott was a very well respected man in the low country.

  After the business discussions and a quick bite to eat, Michael went in search of Andi. He had no trouble finding her—she stood out like a beacon. Peterson was still at her side, along now with Peterson’s uncle, Ronald, and Miss Amanda. Michael’s long strides carried him quickly to her.

  Andi was the only one who seemed to notice his presence. She gave him a please-help-me smile. He cleared his throat. The Petersons, along with Amanda, turned towards him.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. St. John,” Ronald greeted.

  “Mr. Peterson,” Michael said, acknowledging the older man’s greeting. Michael then tilted his head towards Andi and Amanda. “Ladies,” he stated and gave a short bow.

  “Hello, Michael,” Amanda replied.

  “I hate to interrupt you, but there is something I need to discuss with Andi.”

  “I don’t think you have the right to call her by that name, St. John,” Egbert stated with hatred in his voice.

  “Oh, Lord Peterson,” Andi said as she made her way to Michael, ecstatic to be away from the cruel man she was to wed. “He is a guest in my father’s home and has basically become a part of the family. He has every right to call me Andi.”

  Michael extended his arm to Andi. She placed her hand on his offered arm. Michael possessively covered her hand with his as his gaze locked with Peterson. Peterson looked away. Michael and Andi turned away from the group. The couple were stopped by Egbert’s hand on Michael’s arm.

  “I must object.”

  “Object all you wish. This is not court, so you do not outrank me here.” Michael shrugged off Egbert’s hand and walked away with Andi.

  Egbert clenched his fists together. Those damned St. Johns! They thought they could interfere with everything. First, Eli stole Meredith from him, now Michael thought he could steal Andrea. He would not allow another St. John to steal a wife or money from him again. His eyes narrowed as a plan began to form in his mind on how to rid himself of St. Johns once and for all.

  Once away from the group, Andi let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God, you came along. I don’t think I could put up with that man for one more minute.”

  “Not liking your soon-to-be husband?”

  “Shut up, Michael,” she said. She looked at him and wanted to tell him about the encounter she’d had earlier with Egbert, but the buzzard’s threats repeated in her mind. If she told Michael, it would not only make it worse for her, but something catastrophic would happen to Abigail or Alyssa. She decided to keep the discussion to herself. She grabbed Michael’s hand and took the lead of their direction.

  A puzzled look crossed his handsome features as they made their way towards the river. “Where are we going?”

 
“I have something I must show you. You won’t believe what I found!”

  “What?” he asked with curiosity to his voice.

  “Treasure.”

  “Treasure?”

  “Yes. I think it’s from a pirate.”

  “So you’re an expert on pirate treasures now?”

  She tilted her head toward him and gave him a crooked smile. “No, but since you’ve had dealin’s with them, I have labeled you my resident pirate expert.”

  He laughed at her statement. “I have been called many things in my life, but a ‘pirate expert’ has not been one. So where is this treasure?”

  “At my lake.”

  “Your lake? I think someone would have found a treasure there long before now.”

  “Not this one. Now would you be quiet. Someone will hear you,” she told him and placed her index finger over her mouth and shushed him.

  He smiled at her childlike behavior, but went along. They crept along the riverbank, just out of sight of the others. He smiled at Andi. She stopped occasionally and peered over the bank. She would then put her finger to her lips and whisper, “Shhh.” He followed her to the lake and then behind the large live oak at the back.

  “This way,” she said, motioning him to follow her to the hill behind the tree. The hill wasn’t high, only about eight feet tall. It had steep sides that were covered with jagged rocks. Andi walked to the back side of the small hill and pointed upward. “It’s up there, in a cave.”

  “Hold up,” Michael said and pointed up. “How did you get up there and when did you find this ‘treasure’?”

  “I climbed it, just like I always do. And I found it this mornin’. Now help me up. It’s hard to climb in a dress.”

  Michael took an exasperated sigh and locked his fingers together. He bent down so she could put her foot into his hand. “You know if your mother found us here, she’d skin us both.”

  “Oh, shush, you sound just like Old Amos,” she scolded as she placed her foot in his hand. She let out a playful giggle as he boosted her up. She wrapped her hand around a branch and pulled herself the rest of the way up. Her nimbleness amazed Michael.

 

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