Pirate Of My Heart Part 10

Angelene took his question as interest and launched into a detailed description of how she helped his mother and Faith pull off the celebration. Dash the woman. He hoped he didn't appear as bored as he felt. He was just about to make up some excuse to move to a different spot when a sudden quiet fell on the crowd.

"Lord and Lady Rutherford and Lady Kendra Townsend," the butler announced the trio from the top of the stairs.

Dorian's head jerked around, his body following as he dislodged Angelene from his side. He looked up and sucked in his breath hearing the rustling and whispers of their company as he made his way to the entry where his parents stood receiving the guests.

"Who is she?"

"Is she the pa.s.senger from England?"

"Why, I haven't seen the Rutherfords in society in years."

"Isn't that Franklin and Amelia? That must be their niece from England. What a striking creature."

Dorian walked up to Kendra, took her gloved hand in his, and bowed. His smile was slow and secretive, his voice rough, deeper than usual as he spoke into the sudden quiet of the room. "Lady Townsend. You have rendered them speechless and have quite taken my breath away."

Kendra blushed, looking from his eyes to the staring crowd, and then back at him. Her wide, violet gaze was a mixture of mortification to be the center of attention and a pleading for his help to get them out of it. Instead, Dorian winked at her and turned them toward his parents. "Mother? I believe now would be a good time to start the music, don't you think?"

Hannah looked from Dorian to Kendra, a small smile playing across her lips. "I do believe you're right, dear." She turned toward the six-piece orchestra and motioned with her gloved hand to begin, and then looked back toward Dorian. "As we are still greeting latecomers, would the two of you be so kind as to start the dancing? Lord and Lady Rutherford and we have so much to catch up on."

Dorian choked back a laugh and extended his arm to Kendra. "Duty calls, my lady."

Kendra took his arm, laughing up at him. "I seem to forever be putting upon your good graces, Captain. Shall you rescue me again?"

"Let's try, shall we?"

She couldn't possibly reject him in front of the throng's watchful gaze but this was only going to add fuel to the fire of speculation that they were already generating. Why was he singling her out? She had so hoped to edge quietly, slowly into society. Now she would have immediate, jealous enemies that she would have to charm into giving her a chance. Men didn't understand anything about the women of polite society!

She looked over toward her aunt and uncle, seeing her uncle's scowling face. Oh dear, to make matters worse Uncle Franklin didn't care for the captain. It was just as she had suspected. Unable to think of any other recourse, she took Dorian's arm and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. The music struck up the first flowing notes of a waltz just as they reached the center of the room. Dorian turned her and took her into his arms, and within moments they were gliding over the polished floor to the first dance of the night.

One, two, three. One, two, three. The numbers ticked off inside her head as she threw back her shoulders in the remembered stance of long-ago lessons. If only there had been opportunities to practice she wouldn't be feeling quite so nervous, but there had been few dances since their financial disaster. What if she tripped and fell or trodded upon his toes and embarra.s.sed them both?

"Relax. You're doing fine," Dorian pulled her closer and murmured the words into her ear, sending a peculiar type of excitement coursing through her body. Her gaze snapped to his and there in his dark blue eyes she saw a mix of mischief and admiration. She smiled back at him, unable to not smile, unable to remember that they were the focus of over a hundred sets of eyes. She floated, lost in the strong arms encircling her.

"You are an accomplished dancer, Captain." She thought to make small talk and break the tension straining between them but the comment came out rushed and out of breath.

He flashed her that wicked grin that made her knees soften. Her steps slowed so that he had to take her waist in a tight grip to keep her moving to the beat. "My vast experience, I suppose. I do so love a ball."

He was teasing her again. She didn't know whether to berate him or laugh. She decided for humor. "Ah, yes. I can just imagine you practicing the dance steps during the long, boring hours on your s.h.i.+p. Does the fair John partner you?" She looked up with innocence s.h.i.+ning from her eyes and dimpled one cheek.

"John is light on his feet, but I must confess . . ." here he leaned in so close that she could feel his breath in her ear, "that I prefer Smythe."

The vision of the short, balding, overly hairy sailor came to mind and made Kendra miss a step. Suppressed mirth caused her chest to shake. "Oh heavens, I should like to experience such a thrill. Is he here this evening? I need to fill my dance card somehow."

The last strains of the music came to a halt and Dorian slowed them to a graceful stop. He bowed low over her hand and said just loud enough for her to hear, "Turn around, Lady Townsend, and you will see the line forming. I have a feeling your dance card will be full within moments."

She turned to see that, indeed, several men were positioning themselves at the edge of the crowd for an introduction. "Oh, my goodness." She looked around the room as Dorian took her arm and led her back toward where her aunt and uncle and his parents stood. "Save me another dance, won't you?" he murmured as he stopped her in front of his parents.

She looked up into his eyes and saw a smoldering look that made her heart quicken its beat.

"Of course." She tore her gaze from his face and saw Dorian's mother watching them. The love she had for her son was obvious but what would Mrs. Colburn think of her?

"Mother, may I introduce my pa.s.senger from England, Lady Kendra Townsend. Kendra, this is my mother, Hannah Colburn."

Kendra curtsied and glanced up to see a radiant face beaming at her. "So this is the woman whom my son cannot seem to say enough about."

"Oh, I-" Kendra gripped her skirt with clammy hands.

Hannah laughed. "I a.s.sure you, my dear, he only sings your praises."

He'd been talking about her? To his mother? "Thank you, Mrs. Colburn. I'm pleased to meet you." She turned to Dorian's father, a das.h.i.+ngly handsome man himself who took her hand and bowed over it. "My father, Clayton Colburn."

Clayton's eyes twinkled at her as if they shared a great secret. Her heart hammered a little stronger. Dorian would look just like him as he grew older. "So good to meet you, sir."

Before he could answer, a young woman with dark brown hair and blue eyes pushed her way through the crush of people around them and grasped up Kendra's hand. "h.e.l.lo, Lady Townsend. I'm Faith, Dorian's sister. I have so been looking forward to meeting you. Dorian has never allowed a pa.s.senger before and we knew you must be special, indeed, for him to break his own rule."

Kendra flushed. "I'm afraid it wasn't his doing. My uncle convinced John to take me aboard. The captain was not pleased when he discovered it."

Faith laughed and his parents smiled. "Oh, but I do believe he has since changed his mind."

It was as if they'd all decided to like her and there wasn't anything she could do to change that, not that she wanted to, it was just so . . . wonderful and frightening, feeling this happy. Joy. How long had it been since she had said that fruit of the Spirit to herself? It had been a leap of faith-coming to America-but thanks be to G.o.d, He seemed to be making a way for her.

Chapter Thirteen.

Her uncle was scowling at her when she turned from the introductions. Dorian said he would get them something to drink and strolled away. "Kendra," her uncle grasped her arm and pulled her closer, "I don't want you dancing with that man again."

Kendra frowned. "Why ever not, Uncle? Do you dislike him?"

Franklin ignored her question. "There is someone else I want you to meet." His eyes scanned the crowd. "He said he was coming. Where is he?"

Her uncle seemed to be talking to himself so Kendra didn't bother to try and answer. Was there someone her uncle wanted her to be interested in? He'd never mentioned anyone.

"He'll be here soon, Franklin. Kendra will have plenty of dance partners in the meantime. Let's dance, shall we?" Her aunt looked up at her uncle with a flushed, pleading face.

"Yes, do dance with Aunt Amelia," Kendra added. "I promise not to dance with Mr. Colburn while you're gone." Her aunt deserved some happiness and if Kendra had to avoid Dorian for her to get it, she would obey her uncle. Why he felt so strongly against the sea captain was something she would have to discover.

"Oh, very well," Franklin gave in, sounding none too pleased. "Do not move from this spot, Kendra."

Kendra's eyes widened. Was she not going to be allowed to dance with anyone? But seeing the look of excitement on her aunt's face she only nodded her head. "Yes, Uncle."

As they walked off she heard her name being called and turned to see John coming toward her. There was a tall woman on his arm with hair the color of honey and warm amber eyes to match, who must be Victoria.

"Lady Townsend, how do you fair?" John winked at her and kissed the back of her hand with exaggerated flourish.

"I am wonderful. Thank you, kind sir. And this must be your fiancee, Victoria?" Kendra shared a smile with the woman.

Victoria bobbed a small curtsy. "It is such a pleasure to meet you, Lady Townsend. John has told me so much about you."

"Please, call me Kendra." It would seem she had been the topic of conversation on many lips these last weeks. "How is your house coming along? I heard a wedding date is in the making as soon as it is finished."

Victoria nodded. "You must come and see it. They are nearly finished and I would love some decorating advice. The styles must be advanced in England. "

"As if you haven't had every female in the county out there giving advice," John groused. "She changes her mind almost daily and I despair of ever knowing what color we will paint the drawing room."

"I can't say as I'm very accomplished in such matters." Kendra grimaced, thinking of all the lovely things they had sold and the shabby way her father and she had lived that year before his death. "But I would love to see it sometime."

Victoria took her hand and squeezed it, making Kendra feel she'd found a true friend. "You shall. I will have John pick you up and bring you by later this week."

As the three of them chatted, Kendra spied Dorian on the dance floor. A few seconds later, her heart dropped as she realized the stunning woman in his arms was none other than Angelene Monteiro. Something, shock maybe, must have shown on her face as Victoria and John turned toward the dance floor to see what she was staring at.

"Oh, her." Victoria sighed and then quickly turned back to Kendra. "She's no doubt tricked him into dancing with her. Do not let it worry you, Kendra."

"Worry? I have no claims on the captain."

"That's not what I have heard," Victoria said in a soft voice. She looked up at John with a why don't you do something expression.

John cleared his throat. "Ah, yes." He turned toward Kendra. "Women have been throwing themselves at Dorian since he was fifteen, I'm afraid. But none have captured his attention like a certain Englishwoman." He gave Kendra a kind smile.

Kendra's cheeks grew hot. Was she so obvious in her attraction to the man? She would not be one of those women who threw herself at him as Angelene was doing. Just watching the way the woman held tight to his shoulder and gazed up into Dorian's face was enough to make her nauseous. Turning away she said, "It's so warm in here, don't you think? I believe I will get some air out on the terrace. Will you excuse me, please?"

Victoria nodded, her face concerned. "Would you like us to accompany you?"

"No, I will be fine. You two should dance," Kendra a.s.sured her. "It was so very nice to meet you, Victoria. John, wonderful to see you again." She nodded good-bye and pushed through the crowd to the wide-open doors at the back of the house, forgetting her promise to her uncle to stay in one spot.

Leaving the ballroom she wandered out onto the terrace and stood, alone, as the cool breeze soothed her cheeks. She inhaled the delicate floral bouquets that wafted through the air from the many pots of overflowing flowers but she couldn't stand still.

So women threw themselves at him, did they? How very convenient. Why that knowledge upset her as much as it did was something she didn't want to probe too deep for answers. Lord, he is so wrong for me and I fear he'll just break my heart. Besides, Uncle Franklin despises him; there must be a reason for that. Help me guard my heart!

"I've caught you at your prayers, I see," a deep voice chuckled from behind her.

Kendra's eyes fluttered open as she spun around. Her breath caught. The man standing behind her, between the house and herself, looked like the very devil. He watched her the way a cat would crouch down in the tall gra.s.s and watch a mouse. Her heart thudded with fear. He was very tall, dressed entirely in black, with black hair, a mustache, and a little patch of hair beneath his lower lip. His eyes narrowed as one corner of his mouth quirked up in a disdainful smile. He looked her up and down, a stare that made her feel instantly stripped and sullied.

He took a few steps toward her. Kendra stepped back, casting a glace about the area. She sank inside as she noted that they were alone in the dark corner of the garden. How had she wandered so far from the house?

He laughed with a low chuckle and a seductive curve of his lips, seeming to enjoy her obvious fright. "Forgive me, I've forgotten my manners. My name is Martin Saunderson. And you are Lady Townsend, no?"

"Yes." Her gaze darted toward the yellow glow s.h.i.+ning from the back of the house in the distance. "How do you know my name?"

"Your uncle is an acquaintance of mine. He has spoken of you"-he flashed a feral grin at her-"although it would seem that for once he was right." Again his dark eyes flicked up and down her form, making her wish for a heavy cloak to hide in.

"I must be going back inside, sir." Her voice squeaked, making her sound more like a startled hen than the firm a.s.sertion she wished for. Her heart hammered inside her chest as she turned to leave.

"Not quite yet, my sweet." His arm snaked out and caught her wrist.

Now would be the time to scream. She opened her mouth to do just that, when he yanked her into his chest. His lips closed over her open mouth. With a survival reflex she didn't know she possessed, she pounded her fist against his chest with all her strength and bit down on his lip.

He pulled back, enraged. "You vicious wench!" He held one hand to his bleeding mouth and lifted the other one to strike her.

"Don't even think about it."

Kendra whirled around to find Dorian standing behind them. She took advantage of the surprised slack in the horrid man's arms and jerked free, backing up until she was close to Dorian's side and breathing as if she'd run a race.

"I don't remember inviting you, Saunderson. I must request that you leave, immediately."

"I'm not so sure the lady wants me to leave. She was quite amorous in my arms before you interrupted us." Martin sneered, blood smeared across his chin.

Kendra sucked in a breath at such a bold-faced lie, unable to respond.

He mocked her with a low bow. "Until another time then, my sweet, when we have more privacy."

Kendra collapsed against Dorian's side as Martin strode toward the terrace. "Who was he?"

"Martin Saunderson, a cheating thief of a gambler who resides in Yorktown at times." His words had a bite to them as his arms circled around her.

"He said he knows my uncle."

Dorian set his chin on the top of Kendra's head for a brief moment. "Yes, well I've learned some things about your aunt and uncle since our return." He placed his thumb underneath her chin and tilted her face up. His voice was more serious than she'd ever heard him. "Your uncle has had dealings with Saunderson in the past. They are not honest men, Kendra."

Kendra nodded. She had wondered how her aunt and uncle made a living, knowing their farming efforts were sad indeed. "I don't believe my relatives would harm me."

"Maybe not, but I don't like it. Be careful of Saunderson. Considering the kind of women he keeps company with, it is doubtful he believes you to be uninterested."

Kendra gasped. "Are you saying he forces kisses on women and they like it?"

Dorian shot her a speculative glance and appeared to be smoothing down a smile. "Some women like a direct approach."

The conversation about his vast experience with the fair s.e.x rushed back to Kendra. She took a step back and then another. "I suppose you know all about that. Mayhap I should guard myself from you too."

Dorian took a step closer, just as Martin had, but this time jolts of excitement raced through her instead of fear. "That would be wise indeed, Kendra." His voice was like warm silk gliding over her heated skin.

She reminded herself that she would not be like those other women, throwing themselves at him. And she would most certainly not be like Angelene. She would continue to pray and await G.o.d's will for her life with patience and . . . long-suffering . . . and . . . the image of Ruth lying at Boaz's feet flashed through her mind, causing her to frown. The Bible did have some peculiar stories in it. She would have to study that one again in light of this new knowledge of men. Nevertheless, she would uphold her high morals just as her father would wish. She lifted a hand to stop Dorian. "Don't prove yourself no better than that horrid man."

Dorian's mouth quirked up in a crooked smile as his eyes flashed mischief at her. "You dare compare me to him?" He grasped her upper arms in a tender, tight hold. "Next, you'll be calling me names again, black-hearted pirate names."

Kendra s.h.i.+vered under the force of his hands and not because of the chill in the air. He did look like a pirate, a reformed gentleman pirate with his long, dark hair and dark blue waistcoat with a stark white cravat and s.h.i.+rt glowing under the light of the moon.

He leaned in and pulled her toward him. His hands rose to rest on her shoulders, his thumbs a b.u.t.terfly touch against her flushed cheeks as his breath moved in and out above her hair. She stood still in his trap-unable to move, unable to think, unable to breathe.

An aching hungriness grew in her chest. She was no better than the rest of them-poor, besotted women indeed. She would give anything if he would only kiss her.

She let her head fall back and closed her eyes, letting the moonlight reveal his victory. She waited for what seemed an eternity and then let out a held breath as his warm lips brushed against each closed eyelid. The kisses trailed to her ear, sending waves of bliss through her body. She took a shuddering breath as his lips made a trail of heat down her throat. Her senses swirled together, her mind spun down a dizzying path to where she did not know or care.