Hart's Passion (Pirates & Petticoats Book 2) (11 page)

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.

Gampo would be hindered by a wounded leg, and she by several pounds of chain. She picked up her pace, praying her speed would win out.

Zigzagging through the streets of Charleston, she was careful to stay in the shadows. Before long, her chest burned, and her legs screamed with fatigue.
 

She shifted the chain to her other arm. While Landon’s black coat offered a small amount of camouflage in the dark night, it chafed painfully against her flayed back. She wanted badly to remove it, but her pale skin and white chemise would glow like a firefly at midnight.
 

She and her father had stayed with Jared and Sarah in their Charleston house the first month after they arrived. She’d visited the market by the waterfront quite a few times with her aunt. They had also shopped for supplies, such as copperas for disinfecting, and indigo, gypsum, sugar loaves for the kitchen, and dozens of other items, which led them to all corners of town. Surely, she’d notice something familiar soon.
 

Although it was difficult in the dark, she finally passed the apothecary where Aunt Sarah purchased needed herbs and remedies. She allowed herself a sigh of relief and a brief moment to catch her breath. Not much farther to go.

More confident now, she weaved her way through the streets, backtracking only once until, she found the house. A hastily roused house servant spoke through the door, “What you want at dis late hour?” he demanded.

“It’s me, Keelan Grey. I need your help.”

The door flung open, the slave peered closer. His face froze in shock. “Miss Keelan? Dat you?”

Simon! Thank goodness!

“Yes, Simon, it’s me.”

Simon swung the door wide. “What’s happened to you, Miss Keelan? Come in! Mr. Grey is here. Want me to hustle up to wake him, or should I fetch Ruth?”

“No!” Keelan answered quickly. Jared would lock her up again, and she’d be no better off than before. She hastily added. “I-I prefer Jared not see me.”

The slave nodded in understanding. “Of course, Miss Keelan. I’ll get Ruth to help you.”

“Thank you, but I desperately need to get word to Daniel.”

“He ain’t in da house. Don’ know what he done wrong dis time, but Mr. Grey locked him up in the barn.”

“Oh.” Keelan said. “I…Simon, I need your help.”

“Yes, Miss Keelan I can see dat. Stay here.” The servant moved quickly down the hallway.

She waited a moment, not sure what Simon had in mind. Surely he wouldn’t rouse Jared? Her stomach dropped, and her heart began to pound harder. She put her hand on the door handle and gave it a turn just as Simon reappeared.

“Here, Miss Keelan,” he whispered. “Just leave it in the tack room door, and I’ll put it back.”

 
He pressed a key into her hand. A swell of relief softened her shoulders. She gave him a quick nod. “Thank you, Simon. I won’t forget this.”
 

“Stay safe, Miss Keelan.” He reached around her and pulled the door open.

She slipped outside and darted to the darkened barn.

“Daniel?” she whispered. “Daniel?”

“Mistress! Is that you?” he responded in a muffled whisper. The barn was dusty and dark. The night offered only the slightest sliver of moonlight.

“Where are you?” She peered into the darkness.

His voice became a little louder. “In the tack room.”
 

She followed the sound of his voice. Keelan couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder. She expected Gampo to emerge from every shadow and every corner. “Why did he lock you in?” She worked the key in the door, but the lock didn’t turn.
 

“Because you went missing. Jared got up and checked your room and found you gone. I’ve been so worried about you. Where have
you
been?”

Stubborn lock. Did Simon give her the wrong key? “I don’t have time to explain,” she answered. “We have to get away from here
now
. I’m being followed, I’m sure of it.” The lock clicked, and she jerked open the door.
 

“Thank goodness,” she said.

“Who?” Daniel stepped out. “Who’s following …Good Lord!” Catching sight of her standing in a tattered dressing gown and a man’s overcoat, he paused and stared at Keelan in alarm. His eyes widened further when the links clinked against her leg.

“Please, Daniel. We must go
now
!” How long would it be until Gampo and his men sought her out here?

Daniel whirled and ran to the rear of the barn. A moment later, he returned with a bulging feed sack slung over his shoulder. In his free hand, he clutched a new pair of boots and her waif’s clothes.
 

“I purchased the boots for you after I delivered Slaney to her ship this morning,” he said, handing them to her. Gesturing to the sack he added, “I also hid some necessities in the barn in case we had to flee quickly. I wanted to be prepared in case any part of our plan went awry. Now I’m glad I took the precaution.”