Pirate of My Heart

by Jamie Carie

  Kendra pulled her head back in and chewed on her bottom lip. Her aunt reached over and patted her restless hands. “No good will come from all this fretting. A body would think you were on your deathbed and needing last rites, the way you’re carrying on.”

  Her cheeks turned pink and she looked away, out the window at the rolling countryside. It was unseemly, the way she thought of him, well, constantly. She drew a deep breath and commanded herself to relax. She was going to church, after all, to hear about God. Not to moon like a daft cow over a sea captain. Lord, forgive me. I am foolish at times! It’s no wonder You compare us to sheep. My brain feels full of wool!

  Sooner than expected they ambled to a stop at one of the many hitching posts lining the street in front of the church. It was crowded but the big clock tower in the center of town had only reached five minutes until nine so they weren’t late. Kendra didn’t wait for her uncle to climb down and open the door, but sprang out on her own, causing a grumbling noise from her aunt. The people from the town and the surrounding countryside were decked out in their Sunday best and heading toward the front doors. Kendra smiled. It was good to be back at a church.

  Her uncle came around the side of the carriage with Aunt Amelia’s arm linked in his and looked around the churchyard. “Ah, this way then, ladies.” Kendra followed in their wake as they merged with the crowd entering the large, one-roomed building.

  Kendra tried to keep her eyes on her uncle’s back or at her feet, trying not to gawk and make a fool of herself. Uncle Franklin led them to a long bench and she followed them down it to almost the middle point and then sat down. From the corner of her eye she thought she saw Faith and another of Dorian’s sisters. Her heart sped up a little but she kept her eyes downcast, determined to be good. A pair of men’s elegant shoes came into her line of vision. She pressed down a smile. The shoes turned in the direction of facing the front and then she saw him settle in, quite close, beside her. Surprised pleasure filled her. She looked aside and up, allowing the happiness she felt to sparkle in her eyes.

  Martin Saunderson grinned back at her. “So good to see you, Lady Townsend. As you can see, I’ve taken your advice and decided to become a reformed citizen. Your words, nay, your passion for the church has convicted my black soul to the very depths of my being. I owe you eternal thanks.”

  Kendra clamped her gaping mouth shut and doubted it to the depths of her being. But she couldn’t say so. She only turned her head toward the front where the service was beginning. “I’m so glad, sir. I pray your many sins be forgiven and you remain . . . reformed.”

  Martin leaned close and chuckled into her ear. His warm breath made her recoil. “Ah, but I fear that will require a constant dose of your goodness, my lady. Perhaps even . . . a daily dose.”

  Kendra sucked in a breath. Would he declare himself right here as the service was beginning? She turned toward him, eyes flashing with warning. “You are mistaken if you think me a paragon of virtue, sir. It is our Savior, Jesus Christ, who makes a way for all sinners, me included.”

  She turned forward and pressed her lips tight together, determined not to speak to him any longer.

  The dark chuckle reached through her meager shield and sent a chill of fear through her spine. He murmured words, a low hiss of sound, as the preacher instructed them to open a hymnal. “I daresay I should like to see the sinner’s side of you. I should like that very much.”

  Outrage burst like flames through her as she stood and opened to the appointed page. The blackguard! What man would accost a woman in church? The man had no scruples whatsoever. She took a step away, crowding her aunt and gaining a frown and dig from her aunt’s elbow as she began to sing. The words barely registered as the skin on one side of her body crawled where Martin stood.

  As soon as the song was over she looked up and saw a slight wave from someone on the other side of the room. Faith was smiling and waving and then as Hannah leaned over and said something, she quickly lowered her hand and turned toward the front. Kendra smiled as the pretty young woman glanced back at Kendra and winked. The look and the wink reminded her so much of Dorian that the familiar longing rose up and she took a moment to scan the room for his dark head. Nothing. Her heart sank a little. He wasn’t there.

  As soon as the service was over Kendra ignored Martin’s attempt at further conversation by brushing past him and rushing over toward Faith. Faith’s eyes brightened as she hurried to meet her, grasping her hands in a tight squeeze. “I’m so glad you’ve come! You must meet the rest of the family.”

  Kendra nodded happy agreement. “I should love to. Is, ah . . .”

  Faith giggled and leaned in, saying in a low voice, “No, Dorian’s not here. Some mission to look over horseflesh in Fredericksburg. But you must meet Louisa, Charity, and Marjorie. They’ve been dying to meet you.”

  Kendra allowed herself to be dragged over to a tall woman who looked very much like Clayton Colburn. She carried a little girl on one hip and two boys only slightly older than the next clung to her skirts. One of them was sucking on a thumb. Kendra paused, taking in the scene of the harried mother. A knot formed in her throat and she didn’t know why—couldn’t fathom why it was suddenly hard to swallow—except that they were the most beautiful children she had ever seen.

  “Lizzie, this is Lady Kendra Townsend,” Faith gushed as if she were presenting the queen of England. “Lady Kendra, this is my eldest sister, Louisa Fairchild.”

  Louisa grinned with a broadness that took up most of her face. “You must forgive me, Lady Townsend.” She twisted around until she had a grip on one of the boys. “Thomas, you’re going to suck that thumb right off if you don’t give it up, my dear,” she admonished in a tone that said she was crazy in love with him. “As you can see these children are like living shackles. I can’t even offer you my hand.”

  “Please, there is no need.” Kendra smiled down at the wide, brown-eyed boy with his curly mop of white blonde hair who had ignored the parental advice and was doggedly working on his thumb. “Your children are so . . . beautiful.”

  Lizzie laughed and then shared a look with Faith. “You’ll not think they are so angelic after an hour or so, I promise. But thank you. I can see that you mean that.”

  Faith took her arm and squeezed, looking at her sister as she said in an excited whisper, “I told you, didn’t I?”

  Lizzie nodded, her eyes happy and thoughtful as she stared at Kendra. “I didn’t think it would ever happen to him. I shall have to revise my opinion on miracles. They do occur in modern days after all.”

  Faith giggled and admonished at the same time. “Shush. We are standing in church after all!”

  “As if the good Lord doesn’t know my every thought anyway.” Lizzie shrugged, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

  Faith gave Kendra’s arm another excited squeeze. Kendra didn’t understand what they were talking about but she was almost certain, by the way they were both stealing such pleased glances at her, that they were talking about her.

  With a wave of her hand Faith rounded up the other sisters, Charity and Marjorie. Charity was blonde, short, and plump like her mother while Marjorie had the darker looks of Clayton and Dorian. They both eyed her, up and down, Charity bubbling with laughter as one of her nephews plowed into her demanding candy, and Marjorie looking shy and stealing glances at Kendra. Kendra smiled encouragingly at her and wondered if these two sisters were married with children also.

  Before she had time to ask, she heard a shriek and turned to see Angelene staring at her, her eyes wide and face gone white. “Lady Townsend.”

  Kendra raised her brows. “Miss Monteiro. I didn’t know you attended services here.”

  “For quite some time.” Her red lip curled. “I didn’t know you were interested in church.”

  “Oh yes, back home in Arundel I attended every Sunday. I’ve missed it since coming here and was so glad Faith invited me to come here to Grace Church.”

  Angelene’s gaze flickered down
to Faith’s arm entwined with Kendra’s. She looked up at Faith, but not quick enough to extinguish the slash of betrayal. “I see that the two of you have gotten quite chummy. Faith is such a dear soul to anyone in need.”

  “You sound as if you don’t approve, Angelene.” Lizzie jumped into the fray. “I assume you agree that anyone can attend church?”

  Kendra pressed her lips together as a wave of compassion swept through her. It must appear to Angelene that she was taking her place in the Colburn family.

  Angelene looked away from them and shrugged. “Of course. I was just curious as to why she chose this church. There are several closer to that farm where her ladyship lives. It is so . . . out of the way.”

  “I doubt it’s a further distance than from my home!” Lizzie seemed to grow another inch and her chin jutted out. It wouldn’t be wise to be on the other side of that ire, Kendra realized as she eased away from Faith. Even though Angelene had been nothing but a thorn in her side, Kendra couldn’t bear to feel that the three of them were ganging up on her.

  Turning toward the dark beauty she held out a hand. “Miss Monteiro, let us begin again.” Kendra smiled with genuine warmth. “It is so good to see you. I’ve only a few minutes before my relatives drag me back to that farm.” She laughed, making fun of it too. “Would you show me around the church?”

  Faith let out a little gasp but Lizzie just raised her eyebrows and inclined her head toward Kendra in a brief move that seemed to say, touché.

  Before Angelene could react, Kendra took her arm and led her away, chatting about the service and the choir and inquiring if Angelene liked to sing. She would look so wonderful on stage, she must love to sing.

  As they eased through the crowd Kendra heard Faith’s excited voice, “Our brother will be the veriest fool if he lets her get away.”

  “Mayhap he’ll need a little help,” Louisa’s voice answered. “Sometimes God lets us participate in His miracles.”

  Feminine laughter followed Kendra and Angelene out the door.

  Once outside in the open sunshine, Angelene cast a glance toward Kendra, her chin cocked to one side, her eyes narrowed. “Have you seen Dorian since the ball, Lady Townsend?”

  “No, I haven’t. Why?”

  Angelene looked down, her cheeks filling with a becoming rose color. “I didn’t know if you’d heard the news.”

  “News? I was just visiting with his sisters, as you know, and they didn’t mention any news.”

  Angelene glanced aside as if embarrassed. “Well, it was something of a scandal really. I’m sure they don’t wish it common knowledge.”

  Always these games with this woman. How was she to handle her? Patience, kindness, goodness, self-control. La! She would need all of the fruit of the Spirit to keep her head above these choppy waters. Kendra tried not to grind her teeth. “Why don’t you just tell me? You seem to want to.”

  Angelene shrugged a slim shoulder. “It’s just that I know you imagine yourself having particular feelings for him and I wouldn’t want you to get hurt. But after what happened that night, after you left the ball . . .”

  “What, exactly, happened?”

  “We danced and he strolled with me in the garden. I—” She clasped her gloved hands in front of her skirt and looked up at Kendra with big innocent eyes. “I let my emotions get away with me and allowed him kiss me. And then—”

  Kendra’s stomach plummeted with each word. It was the same as what Dorian had done with her. “And then?” She couldn’t help but ask.

  “Oh dear. It’s very bad of me, I’m afraid. I was just so swept away. I don’t even know how it happened but I ended up in his room. We were caught. My father caught us. He’s demanding a wedding.”

  She had the audacity to stare at Kendra with a broad smile and glowing eyes. “I’ve already bought the dress. I’m just waiting for him to return from that trip north to see some horses.” She waved a hand in the air. “You know men, he just had to go, and what could I say? I do plan to be a very accommodating wife.”

  Kendra couldn’t speak. Her breath caught in her throat. Was it true? If so, why hadn’t Faith told her? Would Angelene really make up such a monstrous lie? Would anyone?

  Before she had a chance to regain any semblance of composure, Aunt Amelia spotted her and hurried over to Kendra’s side. “There you are, Kendra. Come along. Your uncle is past ready to go.”

  Kendra nodded good-bye to the smirking Angelene, unable to get a word through her stiff lips, and turned to follow her aunt to their carriage. Her heart thudded dull and heavy, her legs seemed unable to take the next step. She glimpsed Faith and her parents coming out the church door. Her gaze locked with Faith’s, the silent question in her eyes. Faith bit her lower lip and turned away.

  So, it was true. The Colburn girls must have been talking about Angelene, not her. What a fool she’d been. She bit her lower lip trying to keep the tears back as she climbed into the carriage and stared out the open window, praying the pain slicing through her stomach would go away.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Come in.” Andrew Townsend accepted the morning post from his butler and then waved him from the room. He flipped through the letters wondering if today might be the day he would hear from the Rutherfords as to how the plan was proceeding. After his pirates had failed to dispatch his niece, a fact he’d only learned about a few weeks ago, he’d been forced to rely on that letter to the Rutherfords. How hard could it be to arrange an accident for a naïve Englishwoman in the wilds of America? It was taking far too long.

  He paused over a grimy looking envelope. At last! It was from Virginia. He closed his eyes and clutched the missive to his chest. It was so close—just within reach. Finally he would own all of the Arundel fortune, every plot of land, every tenant, every investment . . . every last shilling, even Kendra’s paltry dowry. She had no right to it. It was all meant to be his—every last dirt clod. His plan was about to be complete. He broke the seal with shaking fingers and scanned the message.

  Dear Lord Townsend,

  My name is Martin Saunderson and I have some news concerning your niece that I believe you will find quite valuable. You see, I am a friend of Franklin Rutherford, a close confidant, you might say. He explained that you were intent on getting rid of a certain young woman for her dowry and hoped Franklin would see to it with a generous reward, of course, at the end. Alas, our dear Franklin has had other ideas. He offered me half the dowry if I would marry Lady Kendra, saying that only he had the right to give her away as a bride to the man of his choice. At first I declined, having never thought to marry. But after meeting her, well, I’m sure you can understand my change of heart.

  Of course the more I considered the idea, the more I realized that as her husband I should have every legal right to the full inheritance. Why share any of it with either of you?

  Andrew put down the letter and threw his head back with a savage curse. He should have known better than to trust a couple of grasping colonists! Picking up the letter, his hand shook with rage as he continued:

  On the other hand, it would be so much easier to have your cooperation as the chit has not as yet come up to scratch. There is a sea captain she has her heart set on, a Dorian Colburn. I believe you know him? My instincts say you’d rather not have him in the family fold, as the Colburn family can be a force to be reckoned with. I would like to suggest myself as an alternative. I can be very accommodating and believe we can come to some sort of compromise that will suit us both.

  Andrew threw down the letter and pushed away from the desk, the vein in his forehead throbbing with rage. He was being blackmailed by an American! It was unconceivable! He stood, walked over to the crystal decanter on the sideboard, and poured himself a brandy. It burned down his throat but brought no relief. He reared back and flung the glass as hard as he could into the empty grate of the fireplace. He balled up his fist and slammed it onto the sideboard, causing the other glasses to rattle and move across the table, then braced his a
rms on either edge and leaned over it, his fair hair flopping in his face. “Alright. Get a hold of yourself. There must be a way to salvage this.”

  He took a deep breath, turned, and walked back over to the desk. Picking up the paper, his chin held high, his eyes narrowed, he read the remainder of the letter:

  Land in England means little here across the pond, but money—gold—that is a very different matter. It’s quite simple, really. You keep the land and pay me what it is worth in gold. You’ll have your estate intact and I will be able to support your exquisite niece in the manner in which she is accustomed. It’s all very agreeable, no? If you are wondering what I will do about the Rutherfords, make no mistake, they will be taken care of and bother us no more. I will take Kendra west, far away from anyone she knows, and start a new life with her so buried in the American wilderness that you may forget she was ever born.

  In the essence of the time it takes to receive a reply from you, know that I will be pursuing my courtship of her. I hope you find my suggestions an acceptable alternative.

  Yours,

  Martin Saunderson

  Andrew pulled out a fresh piece of paper and wrote a stiffly formal reply. He set the wax with the Earl of Townsend’s seal and rang for his servant. “Find the quickest messenger to get this on board the first ship sailing to America. Spare no expense.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Kendra, an invitation has come for you” her aunt called from the back door.

  Kendra stood up, a ripe tomato in hand, her lower back aching from working in the garden these past two hours. My goodness, but was it hot. Her cheeks radiated heat and sweat trickled down her back in what felt like enough to fill a bucket. Upon hearing her aunt’s call, she turned, ducked under the low archway of dangling ivy, and hefted the basket of beans and tomatoes higher on her arm. Her apron flapped in the hot summer wind and her big, floppy garden hat flapped against her cheeks. Had it ever been this hot in England? She didn’t think so.