Hart's Reward (Pirates & Petticoats #3) (16 page)

How would she get out of this room without being stopped or followed? She stared down at the chamber pot still in her arms. An idea began to form in her mind. After coughing loudly several times, she opened the door a crack and reached out for the rags and water bucket. The thick chested man handed them to her silently. She nodded her thanks, careful to avoid eye contact and closed the door again.

Keelan picked up her gown, reminiscing about the ball she attended at Twin Pines. She had escaped the stifling air of the house and strolled to the lake. The moon had illuminated the sky that night, creating shadows everywhere. Landon had followed her and insisted on a waltz. They danced in the garden and he had teased and goaded her into kissing him.
 

Keelan had never been able to back down from a challenge and when Landon told her that he doubted she knew how to kiss a man with passion…well she had shown him he was wrong. Then, he asked her to run away with him. She sighed, unable to prevent the tug of longing that followed that last memory. The idea of eloping with Landon had made her heart happy. Then of course, her cousin spotted them sending the entire house into an uproar. Such was her life when in the close proximity of Landon Hart.

 
Keelan smoothed the gown across the corner of the bed, making sure it was visible if someone decided to peek inside. She stuffed some cushions under the covers. It wouldn’t fool anyone for long, but she only needed a few precious minutes.
 

All she required now was a little water in the chamber pot. That done, she balanced it against her hip and sidled out of the door, closing it firmly.

She started for the servants’ stair then paused and spoke to the man at the door. “Mr. Hart requested us to leave him and his sister alone for a while. You may tell Mr. Pratt that Miss Veronica is awake but terribly embarrassed and will not return to the party. If it is quite all right, Mr. Hart has accepted Mr. Pratt’s offer for himself and Miss Veronica to stay the night as his guests. He told me to tell you that he will seek out Mr. Pratt in a couple of hours, once his sister has fallen asleep. She is very, very upset at the moment.”

The man gave her a nod and a thin smile. His expression resembled that of a cat holding a trapped mouse under his paw. She swallowed and headed down the stair, careful to avoid looking over her shoulder to see if he still stood his post. She’d bet that he’d quickly departed to find his employer and relay the information. No doubt, trapping Landon upstairs would fall right in with their plans to kill him.

She walked straight through the busy kitchen and out the back door. Had anyone considered delaying her, the chamber pot she held in front of her along with her wrinkled nose would have discouraged them. It wasn’t until she rounded the corner of the first barn that she released her breath. Slipping inside the back door, she noticed Orion in the corner stall. No! He shouldn’t still be in the barn. Landon and Ronnie should have taken him and fled the plantation. A quick glance told her that his girth strap had been tightened and he was ready to ride.
 

“Keelan.”

Startled, she whirled to find Ronnie standing behind her.
 

“Where’s Landon?” Had he been caught?

Ronnie pointed to the second shed a couple hundred yards from the barn. “He’s trying to pick the lock. Simon and Ruth are in there. He has me keeping an eye out for him.”

“He should not have sent a boy to do a man’s job.”

At the sound of the strange voice, the hair on the back of Keelan neck tingled and her breath caught in her throat. The thick bulk of a man stepped behind Ronnie and put a pistol to the boy’s head.
 

Two more appeared at his flanks and by the widening of Ronnie’s eyes, there were probably more behind her. She recognized the man holding the pistol to Ronnie’s head as the guard who’d been outside the bedroom door, Hawkins. Her shoulders sagged. He must have followed her, rather than locate Pratt.
 

Hawkins leered at her. “I’ve been trailing Hart since he made port. I knew he’d lead me to you eventually, Keelan Grey. It wasn’t until he told you to accompany him upstairs that I realized who you really were.”

A jolt of panic pierced Keelan’s chest.
 

“I have no use for the woman, Hawkins.” Pratt’s voice came from behind her. “You may take her after your job is completed.”

“I’ll take care of it as we agreed,” Hawkins said, pulling back the hammer.

Keelan worked harder to wiggle her hands out of the ropes around her wrists. Hawkins and his men had tied her and Ronnie to a horse. The men hadn’t searched her as they had Ronnie and using the short, thick blade hidden in the small of her back, she’d been sawing through her bindings during the ride. With Ronnie sitting behind her, he blocked her activity from view. They were now about a mile or so from the stable, in a wooded area, far from the main house and the eyes of the party guests.

A sense of dread seeped into her stomach. Whatever Hawkins and his men were going to do, they were going to do it well away from any witnesses. The dim light of a fire flickered through the trees and it wasn’t long before they reached it.

Keelan nearly cried out when she spied Landon, Simon and Ruth all bound hand and foot, crumpled together against a large tree. Above them, three ropes dangled from a branch the size of a man’s torso. Were they alive? Had they already been hanged? She fixed her gaze on Landon’s chest. It moved. He wasn’t dead; he was unconscious. A trickle of blood ran from a gash on his temple.

Landon stirred, moaning and blinked his eyes open. Cursing, he attempted to sit up, but one of the men raised his booted foot and pushed him back against the trunk of the tree.
 

“Toss one more rope up there,” Hawkins ordered, yanking Ronnie from the horse. “We have a fourth.” He shoved the young man toward the tree where he landed on his knees next to Landon’s feet, his eyes wide with fear.
 

“You can’t hang him!” Keelan cried, pretending to struggle with her bonds. “He’s only a boy!” She slipped the knife into the back of her waistband and hid the cut ends of the severed rope in her fists behind her back.

Hawkins pulled her from the horse and slapped her. “He’ll be hanged for aiding runaways.”
 

“And you’ll be charged with murder,” she replied, glaring her hatred.

He laughed. “By the time the bodies are discovered, they won’t be recognizable. Anyways, you and me will be long gone and my pockets will be jingling with coin soon enough.” He reached up and stroked a strand of her hair. “Or, I can take a piece of your scalp instead.”

“Let her go, you bastard,” Landon bellowed. The cords of his neck stood out as he struggled against the ropes. “She’s not part of our group and knows nothing of our activities.” His temple was bleeding, along with his nose and mouth.
 

Hawkins grabbed her chin in his big paw-like hands and continued as if Landon hadn’t spoken. “Although, I heard that the price on your head is substantially higher if I bring you to Captain Gampo still alive.” He grabbed the reins of his horse and led it over to the hanging tree. Hawkins gestured to one of his men. “Bring her a little closer. It would be a shame if she missed seeing this.”
 

Good, closer was better. The hard part behind them, Pratt’s men relaxed, some sat near the fire, others milled around the horses, waiting to put the nooses around the necks of their captives.

The man leered at her with a mouth full of gaps and yellow teeth. He smelled of horse dung and whiskey and she hoped he’d imbibed the alcohol recently. As he started to drag her toward the fire; she stumbled and fell to her knees. When he reached down to haul her to her feet, she drove the small blade she’d used to cut her ties into his stomach. His eyes widened; she removed the blade and yanked the pistol from his belt. He fell face down as she rose to her feet.

Before any of the other men could react, she threw the blade at the tree. It imbedded in the trunk less than six inches from Ronan’s side. All he needed to do was grab it and hold it tightly enough for Landon to cut his bindings. She stooped and pulled her stiletto from her boot.
 

“Don’t stand there, like idiots!” Hawkins shouted. “Stop her! Just don’t kill her.”

Landon used the knife to slice through the rope around his wrists. Freed from his bonds, he jumped the nearest ruffian and shoved him into the fire. The man screamed and flailed while another hopped forward to pull him out. The rest of Hawkins’ men descended on Landon. He pulled Keelan’s short blade from the trunk and threw it into one man’s chest; Keelan’s stiletto sank into the back of another and then used her pistol to shoot a third.

Although still bound, Simon had staggered to his feet and with a bellow like a wounded bull, plowed his head and shoulder into a fourth man. Ruth kicked out with her legs tripping another. Figures lunged and yelled in the general mayhem, the glow of the fire creating grotesque shadows on the surrounding trees.
 

Keelan was out of weapons.

She picked up a short, thick branch, but before she could swing it, her head was jerked back and the cold steel of a blade pressed against the tender skin beneath her jaw. She dropped the branch and froze. A pistol shot cracked.

“Hart!” Hawkins shouted. The fighting paused.

Landon jerked away from one man and lunged toward them, but was brought down by two more. He glared at Hawkins. “Harm her and I’ll kill you.”
 

Hawkins responded in a voice dripping with confident malice. “You’ll soon be in no position to make such ridiculous threats, let alone carry them out.”
 

Landon swung his arm gesturing to the results of their brief resistance. “You’ve lost half your men.”

“Perhaps I should even things out a bit.” Hawkins pressed the tip of his blade until it broke her skin. A warm, slow trickle of blood crept down her neck.
 

The two men on Landon had retied his hands. This time they bound his feet as well. Simon and Ronnie were dragged kicking and squirming back to the tree near Ruth.

Hawkins’ men, battered and bloodied, reached for the dangling ropes. Simon was unconscious; Ruth’s lip was split and the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut glared at the men in defiance. Blood streamed from Ronnie’s nose.

Four horses were led up to the tree and the opposite end of each rope was tied to a saddle horn. All they had to do was lead the horses away from the tree. The four bodies would be hauled up off the ground by their necks.

Landon’s dark hair gleamed a blue-black in the firelight, several strands had escaped from the queue during the scuffle. The firelight flickered in his light blue irises along with something else. Gone was the cold, distant countenance of a stranger. In its place was the familiar look of appraisal and admiration she’d grown to love. The shift in his demeanor radiated to where she stood.
 

“I love you,” she said.

“I remember,” he stated, as the noose dropped around his neck.
 

Keelan’s breath froze in her throat and tears burned in her eyes. Did he truly remember her?

“I remember you, sparring in the meadow,” he continued softly. “And I remember kissing you in the garden. Your hair was tangled in a bush and I remember thinking that you were the most impetuous woman I’d ever met. And the most beautiful.”

The tears dripped from her jaw to her collarbone; her heart filled with a rush of joy. They were both about to die, and she should be weighted down with fear, but instead she was light and jubilant.

He remembered her. He
remembered them
.

“I love you, Keelan Hart.” Landon said in a firm and clear voice. The shocking blue of his eyes held hers in a gaze that pulsed with confident strength and boundless love.

Hawkins barked a scornful laugh in her ear. “It don’t matter who she is, Keelan Grey or Hart, she’s no longer yours. She’s—” The press of the blade against her throat ceased and she whirled away from him, ready to fight. Hawkins dropped his knife and stepped back, and raised his hands.

“It’s about time! Where in the hell have you been?” Ronnie’s voice cracked. The last word was nothing more than a squeak.

Keelan peered into the darkness surrounding the fire and blinked. The crew from the
Desire
, all eighty of them, surrounded the clearing. The glint of sabers and pistols in the moonlight was a welcome sight indeed.

“Well, it took us a bit longer than we expected,” Gus grumbled, walking up and pulling the noose from his captain’s neck. “When ye didn’t make it back, I struck out for the
Desire
to get some help, but ran into Marcel before I’d gone a couple of miles.” He cut through the other bindings with a dagger, then turned his weathered face to Landon, before staring hard at her. “Who is Keelan Hart?” he asked. “And why in the hell is Mahdi dressed up like a
woman
?”

The tender early rays of dawn had almost pierced the horizon by the time they neared the outskirts of Charleston. Landon removed his handkerchief to peer at the wound under Keelan’s jaw as their wagon rolled toward the city. Gus held the reins and Ronnie rode behind them on Orion. Simon and Ruth were laying in a hidden compartment beneath the wagon’s floor, battered, but alive, another dozen sailors sat on the wagon bed to help hide the two of them.

“What do you think the crew did with Hawkins and his men?” Keelan plucked a twig from Landon’s hair. There was something in the shifting of the men’s eyes that had led her to believe that the men had no intention of simply letting them go.

“It’s probably best we don’t ask,” Landon murmured, glancing behind them. “I don’t doubt they made use of those ropes and nooses first.”

Keelan followed his gaze and peered at the glow in the distance. Was that the sunrise? Wait, the illumination emanated from the southern part of the sky.
 

Pratt’s plantation was burning.

“Chances are, that our part in this won’t be discovered by the authorities for some time yet, if at all, depending on who survives and who might be willing to talk. Still, we’ll not grace Charleston with our presence ever again.” He turned his attention back to her and brushed a curl from her face. He leaned forward until their foreheads touched.