Wild Lord Taggart

by Tammy Jo Burns

  “You were babbling a bit and I couldn’t—”

  “I do not babble. I have never babbled a day in my life. I merely get what I need to say out in an efficient amount of time. Most women seem to draw out what they want to say in some insufferable tale that men listen to as if it is the most exciting thing they have ever heard, when in reality they merely wish she would shut her mouth so that—”

  Her words were cut off by Reese’s firm lips. Despite the fact that they were not meant for one another, she highly enjoyed Reese’s kisses. They were unlike any she had ever partaken in before. He was a master at kissing, making her forget her promises to herself to stay away from him, to just be friends with him and nothing more. When she and Dorothea had bumped into him in Bridgetown today, an awareness had shimmered between them. It was something she had desperately tried to fight on the ship, because she had one goal in mind, and that was to find a suitable husband, which he was not.

  That thought brought her back to reality. She pushed against Reese, but he was intent on kissing her. When she felt herself being lowered to the sand, her head resting on his arm, she knew she had to do something desperate to get through to him. Even as she continued to kiss him, she brought her hand back and slapped the injury on his upper arm. It did what she hoped it would. He pulled away from her, and she was able to roll away from him and push up into a sitting position once more.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “I had to stop you somehow.”

  “By hitting me where you shot me?” he asked incredulously.

  “I did not know how else to get your attention. Why did you feel the need to kiss me?”

  “You were babbling and I wanted to stop you.”

  “Oh.”

  “What? You’re not going to argue with me that you don’t babble?”

  “No. I was babbling a bit. I was worried about you and well, I have never shot anyone before.”

  “You were worried about me?”

  “Do not let it go to your head. I would have been as concerned for any other human being.”

  “Oh, I doubt that,” he said with a sly grin. “Do you know, if I’d truly been attacking you, you would’ve just angered me with that pistol, and then what would you have done?”

  “I do not know,” she answered honestly.

  “What made you think you alone could protect your uncle’s land or mine for that matter?” he asked, getting to his feet, concern for her turning to anger. “Do you have some magical power that I don’t know about that would allow you to put out a fire of that magnitude with a wave of your hand? What if whoever is drumming and chanting are not friendly? What if there are more than one of them, because remember that is all the bullets you had. What then, Circe?”

  “I. Do. Not. Know!” she repeated, frustrated and frightened by the imagined scenario he created. “I did not think things through. Is that what you want to hear?” she asked getting to her feet, as well. “I should have stayed in my bedroom and allowed someone else to take care of matters just as I always have. I do not know why I thought this bloody island would be any different from the one I left, or the people any different for that matter.” She turned to leave up the path she had descended down when she felt a firm anchor around her waist lifting her in the air. “Put me down,” she kicked with her feet, scoring several blows with the heels of her riding boots against his shins.

  “Stop it this instant,” Reese demanded. When she didn’t he said, “If you don’t stop, I’ll lay you down on this beach and kiss you…and perhaps more, until you can’t remember your name.”

  She went limp in his arms at the implied threat. She felt the ground beneath her feet once more, but he did not let go of her. Instead he turned her around so he could see her face in the light of the flames. Circe watched as he leaned down and kissed her brow and then just hugged her. She could not stop her arms from wrapping around his waist. He and the crew of the Mary Anne had been her constant companions over the course of almost two months. Thinking of those men who had at first not taken to her at all, but by the end of the voyage had almost felt like family, brought tears to her eyes.

  “Come and sit with me and watch my possessions burn.” He entwined their fingers and tugged her to where he had been sitting. He helped her sit before taking the spot next to her. Reese sat with his legs forming two peaks in front of him and his arms loosely clasped around them.

  “How is your arm?”

  “I’ve had worse. Just don’t slap it again, and I’ll be better.”

  “Do not kiss me again,” she warned. She noticed he made no promise as he turned and stared back at the fire.

  “Are you homesick?”

  “Terribly,” she answered, sounding miserable. “Uncle Robert is not the same man I knew, and then there is Dorothea.”

  “Ah, yes, your new, beautiful, and quite young aunt.”

  “She is rather beautiful.” She said, watching the fire reflect off the water beyond it. At some point this entire beach would be covered with water. “What did you say?” she asked Reese because she had missed what he said, she was so lost in her thoughts.

  “I said, She’s not as beautiful as you.”

  “Please do not lie to me just to spare my feelings. I know that I—”

  “I’m not lying and if you insist on arguing with me, I will be forced to kiss you once more.”

  She stole a look at him and saw him intently watching her. She turned back to the fire and said, “I do not just miss Mama and Papa. I also miss Captain Adams and the crew of the Mary Anne, especially Schmitty.”

  “You miss that ragtag group of misfits?”

  “Yes,” she sniffed.

  “So do I,” he said and bestowed her with a smile before turning his gaze back to the fire, as well.

  They sat there in companionable silence and watched the flames licking at the items in the pile. They were far enough away that the heat it put off was not unpleasant. She yawned widely and felt an arm snake around her. She opened her mouth to say something when Reese stopped her. “I’m more comfortable to lean on than the rocks. Besides you’ve made it more than clear you want nothing more from me than friendship.”

  “Perhaps if we were in another place and you were not…”

  “Wild Lord Taggart? Yes, perhaps. In the meantime, enjoy the comfort I’m giving you, because I am not allowing you to return to your uncle’s house unescorted.”

  “But they will know—”

  “That you left the house and became lost. You saw the fire, followed it, and found a familiar, friendly face. End of story.”

  “You make everything seem so easy.”

  “Some things are easier than others. This situation just happens to be one of them.”

  “All right.” They sat together for some time, both lost in their thoughts. “Reese did you say you were burning your possessions?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, dear. Was it that bad?”

  “It couldn’t be much worse.”

  “Tell me about it.” And so he did. He told her how he had found it deserted except for O’Connor and his wife and child. He spoke of the overgrown foliage and how the sugarcane had not been harvested in years. She was full of sympathy until he told her of trying to sleep that first night and encountering a family of mice in the mattress. “So you think that’s rather funny do you?”

  “Oh, no, but I was picturing you lying down and then feeling something crawling under you.”

  “Stop,” he shuddered. “You’re bringing back memories I’d much rather forget.”

  “What are you going to do, Reese? I know that the plantation was your hope for starting over and recreating yourself.”

  “Oh, I’m not giving up. I’ve just been knocked askew. When I bumped into you and Lady Hayhurst in Bridgetown, I was seeking help. There was some interest, the problem is there aren’t all that many free men willing to do the hard work the slaves do. I’m hoping to entice them by offering them a percentage of t
he profits from the harvest, because I don’t have enough money to pay them all and make the necessary improvements at Windcrest.”

  “And if you do not receive enough help?”

  “I don’t know, Circe. I don’t want to return to England with my tail tucked between my legs, but that just might be my only option. Now, tell me, what really sent you out here tonight.”

  “Truly, I saw the fire but could not find a servant to tell.”

  “Surely there is more to it than that.”

  “I wanted to prove to myself I was not afraid. Samson left me feeling like a frightened child, scared of the shadows and everything I could not see. I really did not look all that hard for a servant to tell. Reese, something just feels odd about that house.”

  “Like?”

  “The servants refuse to meet my eyes. They act as if by speaking to me they will be in trouble. My maid, Molly, is constantly tugging down the sleeves of her dress to cover her arms. Samson gave me this ominous warning about everything and nothing then gave me the gun and told me to carry it with me at all times. Dorothea seems friendly enough, but…”

  “What?”

  “I wish I knew. She is so much younger than Uncle Robert.”

  “That happens in England all the time. My grandfather married a woman quite younger than him after my grandmother had passed away.”

  “Yes, but when it happens to your family and you are not expecting it, it is a little different, I suppose.”

  “Does she love him?”

  “Apparently.”

  “And what of him?”

  “He seems to adore her.”

  “There you have it. You know what I think about the entire situation?”

  “What?”

  “I think you have been at sea for almost two months in a very confined ship. You were used to the men speaking to you once they got to know you. This little island does things so much differently than we do. Having this many slaves for example is something you must come to grips with, and you must realize they are raised differently than our English servants. They are treated differently and, I imagine, punished differently. Perhaps they believe it is better to avoid the newcomer altogether.”

  “Maybe you are right.”

  “I know I am.”

  “What about that strange chanting and the drums?”

  “I’ll ask O’Connor and let you know.”

  “Thank you. Reese?”

  “What?”

  “I cannot not be friends with you.”

  “I’m glad of that.”

  “Me, too. I think we are both desperately in need of a friend right now.”

  “On that, you would be correct.” He tugged her close, and she rested her head on his shoulder. Together they watched the giant silver disc of a moon rise from the ocean and into the night sky.

  * * *

  Circe crept into the house in the early morning hours in an effort to not wake anyone. She tiptoed to the stairs and was halfway up when she heard her name spoken from above. Letting out a sigh at having been caught, she continued up the stairs. Her uncle and Dorothea were sitting in a grouping of chairs on the large balcony overlooking the foyer. You are a woman of five and twenty years of age. You can do as you please. Besides absolutely nothing untoward happened, she told herself.

  “What are you doing up at this hour, Uncle Robert, Dorothea?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful.

  “One could ask you the same, young lady. I admit though to being more curious as to where you have been at this hour,” Robert countered.

  “It was such a beautiful night that I went for a walk.”

  “She was with a man at the cove,” Samson said from behind her.

  “Where did you come from?” she demanded.

  “Dorothea thought it would be a good idea to send Samson to search for you when we discovered you missing.”

  “Why were you checking on me?” Circe turned on the younger woman, her hackles raising.

  “I just wanted to make certain you had everything you needed for the night and that you were comfortable. Imagine how worried I was when I found your room empty, and then we couldn’t find you anywhere.”

  “You mean like I could not find you to tell you there was a fire?” Circe challenged.

  “What? Where were you, Dot?”

  “Why with you, darling. I gave you that draught for your headache and I didn’t leave your side until I went to check on Circe. That’s when I came back and woke you.”

  “Of course, love,” Robert reached out and patted Dorothea’s hand, clearly placated with her answer. “Now, back to you, young lady. You may have felt safe in England, but this is another world entirely, a little world, if you will. You cannot leave the house in the middle of the night to go gallivanting about. And who is this man you met up with?”

  “I saw the fire, and I was worried it might be on your land. I tried to find someone, truly I did, but when I was unsuccessful, I decided to see what it was. It turned out to be my friend from the ship. We sat and talked, and he told me about his plantation. I suppose time got away from me, and I do apologize for causing you to worry, but you did not need to send someone to search for me.”

  “Circe, what would have happened if you had been caught sneaking out of the house to meet a man in England?”

  “Father would have challenged him to a duel or forced him to marry me more likely than not.”

  “It is not so very different here.”

  “Now, Robert, let’s not be hasty. You can tell by looking at her that she is homesick. This man is her last connection with England. Surely we can let this one time pass. After all, she came back without a scratch,” Dorothea argued, coming to Circe’s defense.

  “I can’t say the same for the man,” Samson interjected with a chuckle.

  “Exactly how long were you there?” Circe demanded as she spun on him, hands on hips.

  “Long enough.”

  “What happened?” Robert asked.

  “I shot Reese in the arm with the gun he,” she pointed at Samson, “gave me. And my aim was off because I only scratched him.”

  “She shot Lord Taggart?” Dorothea asked Samson, looking overly worried and slightly pale.

  “You gave her a gun?” Robert asked Samson.

  “I thought she needed the protection. It appears she did.”

  “If you all are going to talk around me as if I am not here, I will return to my room. Again, I apologize for worrying all of you and causing you undue stress. I will not leave the house again without being accompanied by someone. If I cannot find anyone, I will scream down the house until someone appears. Does everyone find that satisfactory.”

  “We were only worried about you,” Dorothea pouted.

  “Dot’s correct. We love you, Circe. I just don’t want anything to happen to you under my watch.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself, Uncle Robert.”

  “You know, you are running from your mother’s reputation, but you are just like her—headstrong and stubborn.”

  Circe opened her mouth to argue, but instead snapped it shut, spun on her heel, and left the room. She stomped up the stairs to her bedroom, slammed the door shut, and locked it. Unfortunately, she felt no better. Instead, she walked to the balcony and looked over the dark sky and saw a faint orangey glow where the fire burned low. Soon there would not even be that. When she left, the tide was coming in, covering much of the beach. She had greatly enjoyed her night with Reese, sitting and talking. They had shared their concerns and problems. It had been a comfort.

  “But he is not the man for you,” she muttered. “He would be more than happy to teach you everything you would want to know about the physical intimacy between a man and woman, but after that, he would be ready to move onto his next conquest. No, he is a friend and nothing more.” She leaned against the balcony railing and let her head fall back, her face tilted upward. Circe raised one of her hands, touched her lips with her fingers,
and wondered if her future husband, whomever he may be, would kiss her as thoroughly and completely as Reese Taggart had.

  Chapter 11

  The next morning, Circe got back to her schedule of being an early riser. She walked out onto the balcony in her night rail and bent this way and that, working the kinks out of her body. Afterwards, she went back inside and prepared for the day. Dressed in a walking dress, she left her room and paused at the balcony overlooking the foyer. She looked below and her breath caught at the intricate image on the floor below. It was a beautiful red rose in full bloom with brambles and thorns twisted around it. All of it was done with inlaid pieces of stone, glass, and wood, making it look like a beautiful mosaic. She took her time studying it, wishing she had some way to capture the image to show her parents.

  Her stomach growled, forcing her to acknowledge that she was hungry. She went downstairs in search of food and strong tea. She sat at the table, breaking her fast, when Uncle Robert walked in.

  “Am I welcome?”

  “Of course, you are. It is your home, after all. Please join me.”

  “I believe I will. Circe—”

  “Uncle Robert, stop, please. Last night is where it belongs—in the past. I would really rather pretend it never happened.”

  “All right.”

  “What I would prefer to know about is the chanting and drumming I heard last night.”

  “Heard that, did you?”

  “It was rather hard to miss, and quite frightening. You see, Samson gave me this vague warning yesterday at the end of our tour. When I attempted to question him further about his meaning, he refused to say another word. That is when he gave me the gun for protection.”

  “I see.”

  She watched her uncle with growing irritation at the length of time he was taking to mull over the subject. Finally, she could not wait a moment longer, “Well? Are you going to tell me?”

  “That was the slaves.”

  “Were they having a party of some type?”

  “No. More like a religious ceremony. A large portion of the African slaves practice a religion called Voodoo. It’s rather interesting, if a bit worrisome.”