The Wild Belle (5 page)

“What about your new brother?” Ashton purred as she rubbed her foot up Michael’s leg again.

He gave her an annoyed glare, but continued. “He manages the Nassau office as well as security measures for valuable cargo. Strangest thing, too, he somehow managed to get his hands on a pirate ship to do those services with.”

He heard several gasps and Annabel asked, “So he’s a pirate?”

“No,” Michael said with a small laugh. “But he could pass for one. He’s one of the most menacing individuals I have ever met. I believe he could kill you with just one look.”

“So do you know Egbert Peterson? He’s an Earl, too,” Ott asked.

Michael gave Ott a strange look. Now why would he ask if he knew Peterson? Why would anyone want to know Peterson for that matter? Michael knew the man all too well. He met him several times in the past when he had to go to London for business. Egbert was also the reason Eli’s first wife died.

“Yes, I know Lord Rydover. I’ve met him a time or two when I traveled to London with my father. Why do you ask?”

“He’s the nephew to our neighbor, Ronald Peterson. He’s coming in for a visit. Actually, he was to arrive today. He should be at the festivities next week. Maybe you two could get together, since you know him.”

“Perhaps,” Michael replied. Truth be known, he would rather be shipwrecked on a smuggler’s island with Ashton than to socialize with Egbert Peterson. The Earl was a wastrel. He gambled and whored away his entire inheritance. From the way Michael had heard it, he was on the lookout for an heiress to replenish his funds. Which was probably why he came here, looking for a bride since all the
ton
knew about him and his frivolous spending. A thought crossed Michael’s mind—surely the Craycrafts weren’t looking to place one of their single daughters with that man? He wouldn’t mention Peterson’s reputation at the dining table or about Eli’s wife’s death in front of mixed company. He would find a more appropriate time. Right now Michael’s number one concern was getting far away from Ashton as quickly as possible.

After dinner, the group left the dining area and proceeded into the salon for small talk. Everywhere Michael went, Ashton was right on his heels. Her flirtations were not discreet. In Michael’s opinion, Mandy should be watching this daughter rather than be overly concerned with Abigail and Stephen.

Michael watched Stephen finally give up trying to steal a little alone time with his fiancée. He walked over to Michael. “I need a drink. How about you?”

Michael held up his glass of brandy.

“Let me rephrase that. I
need
a drink.”

Michael caught his meaning and took Stephen up on his offer.

Stephen and Michael walked over to Ott. “Mr. Craycraft, I would like to show Mr. St. John some of the lovely sights Beaufort has to offer.”

“That sounds like a splendid idea, Stephen,” Ott enthusiastically replied. “So when do you plan on doing this?”

“Now. Come on, Michael. I’ll help you catch a horse to saddle.”

Ott watched in surprise as the two men left. He turned to voice his concern to his wife and realized why Stephen had a desire to leave. Mandy was guarding Abigail like a mother hen. She wasn’t even allowing her own sisters near her. Ott shook his head. No wonder his other daughters couldn’t get a husband. He knew deep down that if he was ever to get the other four married off he would have to tie Amanda up, or at least find something else to preoccupy her mind . . . maybe another rooster.

Chapter Six

Michael and Stephen left the large house through the back. Exiting the door, they were greeted by the sights and sounds of the low country. Fireflies flickered, dancing in the breeze as the sounds of tree frogs and spring peepers singing their mating calls drifted over the plantation. A whip-poor-will could be heard softly calling to its mate in the distance followed by a faint hoot of a barn owl. Michael closed his eyes so his senses could better absorb the sounds drifting around him. The low country was beautiful. He could see why people fell in love with this land.

Stephen swatted him on the back. “Come on, this way,” his younger counterpart stated and headed towards a large barn in the distance.

As they approached, a tall black man stepped out of the barn. “Who’s there?”

“It’s just me, Hezekiah. My companion and I need our steeds.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Stephen,” the man said as he headed into the barn. Michael and Stephen followed the man. “Now let’s see. Here’s yer horse, Mr. Stephen. Let me see if I can find one fer yer friend.” Michael watched the slave peer into each stall, examining the horses that resided in each. “Ah, you a vera good rider, Mr. Michael?”

Michael was taken aback that the man knew his name. “Fair enough,” he replied. In truth, Michael was an excellent horseman. He had several horses at his parents’ Nassau estate and rode as often as possible when docked. “How did you know who I was?”

Hezekiah didn’t look his way as he entered the stall. “Ma pa told me that there was a shippin’ fella here and what his name was. Since I’ve never seen ya before, I figured it was you.” He led the white gelding out of the stall. “Now Ghost here, he’s a pretty good ride, but a bit too spirited fer the ladies. Think ya can handle him?”

Michael watched the white horse. Ghost was tossing his head in the air in a defiant manner. His nostrils flared outward as he snorted and then pranced about as Hezekiah led him to the back of the barn.

“I think I can manage,” Michael acknowledged as he watched the horse making a show.

Hezekiah quickly saddled the horse and walked it to Michael. Michael climbed into the saddle. The animal attempted to intimidate him by tossing his head and prancing around in a circle. Michael pulled hard back on the reins and squeezed the horse’s sides tightly with his muscular thighs. The horse stopped his show and stood still. In a last attempt at defiance, Ghost whinnied loudly and reared up on his hind legs. Michael held fast and leaned forward to match the horse’s stature. When the horse landed back on all fours, Michael pulled back hard on the reins, making the animal’s head come in close to its chest.

“Have your attention-getting spell out of you now?” Michael asked. He reached down and roughly patted the side of Ghost’s muscular neck

Hezekiah gave a cheerful chuckle. “Yes, sir, I’d say you can handle ole’ Ghost just fine.”

Michael turned towards Stephen who was watching the show with amusement. He knew why Hezekiah had given Michael the white horse. It was a joke of sort among the slaves. They liked to see who could handle the feisty gelding. Stephen had had the same prank pulled on him when he first came to
Double Oasis
, only he couldn’t handle the horse as well as this man did. Ghost left him lying in the dust and ran off without him.

“Come along then,” Stephen said as he rode out of the barn.

Michael followed Stephen, his horse still dancing and prancing, ready for a run. As soon as they passed the house, Stephen spurred his horse into a gallop. Michael loosened his grip on the reins and Ghost followed suit without any encouragement from Michael. Both men rode in silence for about ten minutes, allowing the horses to vent their pent-up energy. Finally, Michael slowed Ghost to a walk and allowed the younger man to catch up with him.

“So where to?” Michael asked.

“Thought you knew where to go since you took the lead,” Stephen replied, pulling up alongside Michael.

“No, just letting Ghost run off some energy.”

“Well, he must have known where we wanted to go, since we’re almost at our destination.”

Michael nodded his head and rode alongside Stephen. Michael looked curiously at the younger man. “I have a question.”

“What’s that?”

“How in the world did you ever manage to court Miss Abigail with her mother around?”

Stephen gave a hearty laugh. “It wasn’t easy, that’s for certain. But I’m thankful they have that large wraparound veranda and that old oak tree in the back of the house that’s easy to climb.”

Michael laughed, knowing what the young man was insinuating. “A little midnight rendezvousing then?” he teased.

Stephen blushed and grinned sheepishly, “Something like that.” He pointed to a building in the distance. “That’s Colonel Red’s place, our destination.”

Michael studied the building. It appeared to be a rundown shed from the road, but when they approached he could make out the renovations in progress.

“It became damaged in a hurricane last fall. Several of us pitch in to help when we can but . . . well . . . it’s—” Michael watched as the younger man began to squirm in his saddle as he was telling the tale.

“Not a place respectable gentlemen should enter,” Michael finished for him.

“Precisely. Now don’t get me wrong, the Colonel has some fine women in his place and the best whiskey in Beaufort County, but there are some rough customers that enter it from time to time.”

“Traveling like I do, I imagine I have been in rougher establishments.”

“Yes, I’d say you have. So you have been all over the world?”

“Yes. China is a trip I have no desire to take again. The voyage was entirely too long. So any business arrangements that need to be handled there I let Noah handle, since he doesn’t mind being at sea for that long. I’ve also been to Egypt, Italy, Spain, France, many African ports, England and up and down North and South America.”

“Well, then, Colonel Red’s probably will seem tame compared to the taverns along all those coasts.”

“Yes. Nothing can quite compare to the establishments of Singapore. Those were some of the roughest I have been into, even compared to those of the Caribbean.”

“Are there really pirates still down there?”

“Yes, but not like it used to be. My sister was even abducted by the same one,
twice
.”

“Really?!”

“Yes, weeks apart. But her husband killed the man. He was a thorn in Emerald Shipping’s side. I can’t tell you how thrilled we were to learn that Alexander Xavier had been killed.”

Stephen looked wide-eyed at Michael. “You have an interesting family history, Michael.”

“You have no idea,” Michael replied drily as he dismounted from Ghost. He tied his horse to the post outside the damaged tavern and followed Stephen inside.

When Michael and Stephen entered the building, there was a round of “Hellos” from the patrons inside. Apparently, Stephen frequented this establishment regularly. Michael studied the inside of the tavern. The scent of moldy wood caused Michael to glance upward. He could make out the patchwork of new wood over the damaged roof. However, there were still several small holes. Buckets were scattered about on the floor to catch any water that should enter through the holes in the roof. To the right was a set of stairs leading to the rooms over the bar that were so important to any tavern. Several barmaids scurried down the rickety stairs at that time. Some sashayed to the bar while others greeted the patrons inside. There was a squeal of delight and then a crash as one of the makeshift tables fell over. Most of the tables were just boards lying on top of sawhorses, while others were barstools covered in brown tablecloths. Other than those minor issues, the establishment appeared clean.

They made their way to the bar. The man behind the bar placed two glasses in front of the men and poured them both a shot of whiskey. “For the groom-to-be,” the man said as he laughed. “I’ll have a case in the back for after the wedding. Lord knows with Miss Mandy as a mother-in-law, you’ll need it.”

There was an astounding agreement though the entire tavern. Michael watched the bartender study him. The man behind the bar had a full head of bluish-gray hair and a matching beard that rested on his chest. He was much shorter than average. His blue eyes had faded with time, but there was humor in them.

“Who’s this?” the man asked Stephen.

“Oh,” Stephen replied, downing the amber liquid. He motioned towards his glass again. “Colonel, may I introduce Michael St. John. His family owns a shipping company, and he is here to set up a trade route for our fine cotton.”

“Is that so?” the Colonel asked and rubbed his long gray beard. He poured another shot of whiskey into Stephen’s glass. “So he’s staying with you?”

Stephen downed the beverage. “Heavens, no,” Stephen replied as he motioned towards his glass for another refill. “You know my mother appalls company of any sort. No, he’s staying with—get ready for this—the Craycrafts.”

“The hell he is?” the Colonel questioned. Red looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head and began looking Michael up and down.

“Is that a problem?” Michael asked, his eyes lowering to slits.

The Colonel held up his hands in a friendly gesture. “Not trying to insult you, mister, but I wouldn’t stay in that house if every one of those women had on chastity belts and I was a peckerless eunuch. No, sir, Miss Mandy would castrate anyone looking ‘inappropriately’ towards any of her girls. Hell, I’m surprised she hasn’t killed this young cockerel here yet,” he said as he gestured his thumb towards Stephen.

“My family’s reputation makes me . . . me . . . well, damn it all, you know my father is a preacher.”

“Yeah, and look where yer sittin’,” the Colonel said and laughed. “I believe you spent more money on my girls than your mama does on dresses.”

“I do say, that was when I was younger. I haven’t touched a single one since I stated courting Abigail.”

“Younger?! Hell, yer only what—nineteen? Twenty?”

“I’ll have you know I’m twenty-two.”

“Still wet behind the ears,” the Colonel replied. “She’ll have ya henpecked just like Mandy does Ott before ya know it.”

“I don’t think Ott’s henpecked, I think he’s just smart enough to know better than to cross his wife,” another patron yelled across the tavern.

“Here now!” Stephen protested, turning to address the room, “I’ll have you know that is my future in-laws you’re insulting and I—”

“Now, Stephen, you know we’re only pokin’ fun at ya,” the Colonel interjected. “We’d all stop anything we were doin’ to help that entire family and you know it.” Colonel Red smiled and laughed. “Yer jest so easy to get riled up. It’s an opportunity we jest cain’t pass up.”

Turning to the bar owner, Stephen nodded his head in acceptance of the only type of apology he would ever get from Colonel Red.

“Now,” the Colonel stated as he looked at Michael. “Where ya hail from?”

“My family resides in the Caribbean.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. On a little place called Eleuthera.”

“I’ve heard of that place. Some of those Brits took some of our property and sold it down there. Yer family didn’t have any part in that, did they?”

Michael could sense the tension in the tavern at the touchy subject that Colonel Red had just broached. “No, we weren’t involved in those illegal transactions. Actually, during the war between England and the Colonies, Emerald Shipping was only a small operation at that time, making runs to South America for spices, although we did occasionally transport indigo from here to New Providence. But that was only a time or two. I believe we had only two ships at that time.” His explanation seemed to appease the men in the tavern.

“So what do ya ship now?” the Colonel asked.

“Whatever needs transported, as long as it’s legal. We have twelve vessels in our fleet. Most are large three-mast ships that are able to travel the world.”

The Colonel made a low whistle. “That takes a lot of blunt to have that many ships. Ya sure ya ain’t transportin’ nothing illegal?”

Michael lowered his deep voice. “I assure you that no illegal activities have ever transpired within my family’s company.”             

A twinkle appeared in the Colonel’s eyes. “Yer jest like him,” he said and pointed towards Stephen. “Ya can’t handle a ribbin’.” He poured another glass of whiskey for Michael. “It’s on the house for staying with the Craycrafts, which makes you the bravest son-of-a-bitch I’ve ever known.” The toast was followed by laughter from everyone in the tavern.

“What’s all this ruckus about?” came a voice from the doorway.

Michael turned quickly towards the door at the familiar voice. He stared in disbelief as he watched his pixie enter as though she’d done this many times in the past.

“Andi, what brings you about?” the Colonel asked.

“Hello, Colonel. I have a score to settle with Higgins,” Andi answered, sashaying towards the table in the corner. She turned the chair around and sat down in the seat backwards. “You cheated. I want a rematch.”

Higgins smiled. “Now, Andi, you didn’t say I couldn’t throw things at ya while we were playin’.”

“It was implied,” she said as she smacked the man’s arm. She stood up and walked towards the back of the tavern. “I challenge you to a rematch of cornhole.” She turned then and noticed Michael at the bar. A look of surprise, then haughtiness crossed her face. “Evenin’, Earl.”