Keeper of My Dreams (St. John Series Book 4) (2 page)

Chapter Two

April 1795 . . . Governor’s Harbour, Eleuthera, Bahamas

A woman smiles at him. Eli sighs longingly and waves at the attractive young woman as she walks towards him. Meredith St. John. Eli smiles as he gazes upon his beautiful wife walking his way, her long black hair blowing in the cool English morning breeze. The breeze pulls her gown tightly over her swollen abdomen and she begins to rub her stomach. His heart feels full as he watches her approach knowing this woman is carrying his heir—their first child.

A panicked expression crosses her face as she looks to her right. Eli’s gaze follows Meredith’s and spies a rider approaching fast. She turns and races towards Eli but stumbles and falls. Her body tumbles down the small embankment to her left. Eli races after her. When he reaches the bottom of the embankment, he looks at her with anguish. She yells his name as she reaches out towards him. He reaches her as she cries out with pain and grabs her abdomen. He looks down and notices the substantial amount of blood coming from her left side. The crimson fluid pours out and surrounds her body. She screams again as she holds her stomach. He grabs her hand. She cries out again, closes her eyes and goes limp.

A noise above draws his attention and he looks up to spy the rider who had approached. Egbert Peterson, the Earl of Rydover, looks down upon them and gives an evil laugh as his horse rears. “You never deserved her,” he sneers. Eli notices the smoldering pistol Peterson has in his left hand and the Earl races away.

Eli looks back down to Meredith and notices that she has paled and is no longer breathing. He yells out with anguish and anger. Blackness begins to surround him along with Peterson’s echoing laughter.

Eli abruptly sat up and looked around the dark room, his breathing rapid. A noise to his right captured his attention and he noticed the naked back of the brown-haired woman lying in his bed. Taking several deep breaths, he ran his hands over his eyes and then through his thick black hair. The woman moved slightly as she readjusted her position. Easing out of bed, Eli walked to the window to look out towards the ocean in the distance.

He stared aimlessly at the ocean as his nightmare repeated itself in his mind. It wasn’t the first time he had the images of his wife’s murder run through his mind. The nightmare was a frequent occurrence since her death five years ago.

The warm Caribbean breeze enveloped his naked body as it passed through the floor-length window of his island home. He looked back at the sleeping form of the widow, Marina Larouche. He knew her intentions. She was hoping to marry him. But he wasn’t fooled. She was only interested in the title he currently possessed and the one he was to inherit. His father was the Earl of Hyntington, Lord Robert St. John. Being the eldest of nine children, the title would go to Eli, which did not suit him. He did not want the title he currently held as Viscount of Dinridge, let alone the one of Earl. He did not like court or the proceedings that went with it, although the main reason for his aversion was the horrific seasickness he suffered each time he set foot upon a ship. He hated traveling to England—despised it. For the past two decades, he had traveled to England with his father too many times, all in order to become accustomed to the responsibilities that the inherited title would bring.

Not that visiting England was a bad thing. That was where he met Meredith, his only true love. He had been attending one of the balls that the London
ton
was famous for. He spotted Meredith across the ballroom and fell in love with her at first sight. She looked incredibly bored as the young naval officer at her side was speaking. She would smile sweetly at him and just nod her head. Eli crossed the ballroom to her and stole her away from the seaman. She became quite smitten with him after their first meeting and they were married by the end of the following week, much to her parents’ dismay but a delight to the gossiping
ton
.

Robert St. John was not a welcome figure in London society because of a scandal that occurred years ago. The scandal’s weight passed down to his children. From what Eli could gather, his father had nearly killed a Duke with his bare hands over his mother, Elizabeth. It was years later before the St. Johns were even allowed to return to London, but the scandal’s rumor still made its rounds yearly through the talk of the
ton
.

Meredith’s parents were furious when they found out she had slipped away during the middle of the night to marry a St. John. They had their hopes that she would marry Egbert Peterson, the Earl of Rydover. His family had an impeccable reputation. His mother was even a distant cousin to King George III’s wife, Charlotte. Even though his family had a respectable reputation, Eli knew the truth. He knew that Peterson had killed his first wife after he had run through her dowry. They were at his estate in Bath and had taken a small canoe out on the lake. The boat capsized and she drowned. It was labeled an accident. Soon afterwards he married again. Peterson’s second wife slipped and fell down a set of stairs. It could never be proven but everyone suspected that Egbert assisted with her fall down the stairs at his home in Bath. Servants talk, though, and soon the rumors of her suspicious death began to circulate but they were quickly silenced. Eli wasn’t sure if it was by the King’s action or by the Earl’s.

Eli took a deep breath and turned his gaze back towards the ocean. He watched the moonlight dance on the rolling waves. In several more days, the moon would be full and the tide would be more turbulent. He looked farther out in the distance and saw a faint flicker. He drew his brow together and kept watching the same location. There was another faint flash of light.
Wonder who is doing battle at this time of night?
He watched the location for several more minutes, waiting for the light to appear again, but it did not. Putting the phenomenon off as a coincidence, he turned and donned his robe. He quietly exited his room and walked down the stairs to his study.

He walked over to his desk and opened the drawer. As he pulled out a bottle of brandy, the clock struck four. He poured himself a small snifter of the amber-colored liquid and sat down.

“Up awfully early aren’t yuh, Masta Eli?” the black woman at the doorway asked.

Eli looked at the doorway and said nothing as he poured himself another glass of brandy.

“Did yuh ‘ave anoda one of dem dreams?”

“Is there something you need, Natasha?” Eli asked his servant.

“I heard yuh up. I told yuh I ‘ave ah remedy fi dem nasty dreams if’n—”

Eli held up his hand to halt her sentence. “I do not need any of your voodoo medicine to help me. It was just a dream, no more.”

The short black woman looked at him and snorted. She raised the brow over her right eye as she pointed her finger at him. “An dey’s only gettin’ worse. ‘Ow mony yuh havin’ now? Dree? Four a week now? ‘Tis no healty I tells yuh.”

“Don’t you have some mystical creature to stalk or kill?” Eli asked with annoyance, his tone sharp.

“Don’t tek dat tone wid me, Masta Eli,” Natasha scolded, placing her hands on her wide hips as she walked over to him. “I ‘ave been wid yuh far nine years now. I luved har, too. But if’n yuh allow har ta kept hauntin’ yuh dreams it will kill yuh, an den wat? Dat evil mon will win again.”

“Your counsel is appreciated but not needed, Natasha. I suggest you get back to bed. You have work to do in the morning.” He waved his hand and dismissed his servant.

She allowed another loud snort to escape as she turned. She began mumbling under her breath as she headed towards the door.

“I truly hope you are not attempting to put a curse on me. You know I do not believe in your evil magic.”

“I ain’t puttin’ nuh curse on yuh. Yuh alredi cursed by dem dreams. Der ah nuh curse I could put on yuh worse dan dat,” she said as she left the study.

Eli placed his elbows on his desk and held his head in his hands. She was right. The nightmares he experienced were worse than any curse. How many more times must he relive Meredith’s death? The bad part was he never got the chance to kill the bastard who caused her death. The coward left England before Eli could find him. But Eli was constantly searching for him. All his brothers were for that matter. They all had fallen in love with Meredith. She was kind and caring to everyone she met. Her warm smile brightened the darkest night. She always found the good in every situation. If Eli had to guess, she would even find the good in her death . . . for him.

Eli drank several more snifters of brandy before returning to his room. As he entered, Marina rolled over and faced him.

“Where have you been?” she asked, her voice husky from sleep, as she rose up on her elbow, allowing Eli a full view of her large breasts.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

She sat up fully, allowing the sheet to completely fall from her naked body. She sashayed over to him and began pulling the rope holding his robe closed. “You should have woken me. I know a remedy for sleepless nights,” she purred as she took his shaft in her hand.

He captured her hand and pulled it up to his chest. “I’m not in the mood, Marina.”

She lowered her head and shot him a coy look. “Really?”

“I suggest you find your clothing. I will escort you back to your home.”

“But it’s the middle of the night,” she protested as she pointed out the window.

“No. It’s four-thirty in the morning. It will be daylight soon. I cannot have people speculating about your reputation.”

Truth be known, he didn’t give a damn about her reputation. He did find her company enjoyable, as did many other men on the island. Her reputation was well known to the men, as well as the married women, at Governor’s Harbour. She was a promiscuous woman but a very wealthy, titled promiscuous woman. So she was invited to every social function that was held on the island. Her late husband was a baron or something-or-other in France. Eli wasn’t entirely certain of the exact title. He had only met the man once or twice and did not care for him. All Eli knew for certain was his name, Pierre Larouche. Larouche was an old, fat testy man who believed he was better than everyone else. He had made several smart investments and had become quite wealthy. Soon it was found out that his wealth came from his ties to England. He was labeled a traitor to France and left his homeland, seeking refuge in the Caribbean. However, he did not want to travel from France to a foreign land alone and without someone who would give him the heirs his other four wives could not. So he located a woman to suit his needs, Marina, who was several years younger; however, he died before any children were produced. If Eli had to guess, he would say that Marina made certain none were ever conceived or took certain measures if they were. She took great pride in her appearance and figure, as well she should. She was a very attractive woman. Her oval face was surrounded by soft, wavy brown hair that rested just below her shoulders. She took great care to make certain she had it pulled up in the most fashionable coiffeur. She had a small button nose and her brown eyes always had a sparkle of wickedness to them. She had a naturally hourglass-shaped figure that she took great pleasure in showing off in the latest fashion, regardless of the expense.

“But Eli,” she pouted as she ran her fingers through the hairs on his chest.

He captured her hand and pulled it away. “Do not protest, Marina. I should have escorted you home hours ago. Now hurry up. I want to get you home before the sun rises.”

“Fine,” she snapped as she drew her lips in a tight smirk, dramatically changing her appearance. She turned from Eli and began looking for her dress. She found it in the chair by the window. She jerked her clothing on and wadded her stockings up in her hand. She turned to find that Eli had already dressed and was waiting on her at the door.

She gave him a heated look and stormed out the door past him. How dare he make her leave after she had spent the entire night with him? He was ruining her plan! She had purposely kept him occupied until well into the night with her sexual prowess so that he would fall asleep. They would be found together, which would force him to do right by her. Now, she was going to have to develop a new plan. She would have Eli St. John as a husband. She would become the next Countess of Hyntington and may God have mercy on those who stood in her way!

Chapter Three

Reanna thought she must be having a bad dream. Yes, that must be what was happening. Why else would someone be pounding so smartly on her door so late in the night? The pounding continued. Reanna pulled her pillow down over her ears to drown out the noise of the hammering.

“Wake up, Miss!” the voice shouted from the doorway.

Reanna groaned as she sat up and jerked the covers from her body. Who in the world would disturb someone during the middle of the night? Wake them from the slumber?

“What?!” she snapped as she threw the door open.

Her answer came in a loud roar resembling thunder.

“We’re being attacked!” the man at the door yelled at her. “Quickly—you must hide!”

“Attacked? By whom?”

“I don’t know, Miss. Pirates, I assume. Now hurry!” the man shouted over his shoulder to her as he ran to the next door and began beating the door.

Reanna’s eyes grew wide as she shut her door and looked frantically around the room. What was she to do? She raced over to her chest and opened the lid in order to find something to don other than the thin white shift she was wearing. She looked down at her attire and realized that she had opened the door like this. Her cheeks began to burn, but she shook the thought from her head. The young steward was not interested in what she was wearing. The look of terror on his face indicated as much.

Reanna heard another loud roar and then felt the ship shake violently as the cannonball made contact. Reanna fell to the floor, hitting her ear on the edge of her bed as she stumbled. Reeling from the blow to her ear, a scream of pain from the next room captured her attention. Reanna stood and staggered to the door. The ship rocked violently again, careening to the left. Reanna stumbled into the doorframe. Grasping the edge of the frame for support, she jerked open the door and looked down the hall. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open as she viewed the destruction of the shot. The entire section of ship was destroyed. Smoke billowed by as embers floated past her like graceful fireflies, at peace with the destruction. Flames flickered, lighting the hallway, casting eerie shadows—reminding Reanna of tiny demons searching for souls to steal. A scream brought her back to reality.

She raced down the hall towards the cries for help. She let out a faint curse as she stepped on a piece of broken glass with her bare foot. She shook off the pain and crawled over the rubble. Smoke burned her eyes, causing them to water, and sulfurous fumes caused her to violently cough as she made her way through the debris. When she reached her destination, another shot rang out and hit the ship again.

Reanna screamed as the ship tilted onto its side, bringing the gaping hole towards the water. She screamed again and reached outward, grabbing a section of the ship to keep from sliding out the large hole on the side of the ship. Panic caused her heart to race as fear gripped her. She could not swim! If she slid out the opening, then she would surely drown. The thought quickly disappeared as the ship bobbled and then righted itself, slamming Reanna’s injured ear into the floor. Ringing echoed in her ears as stars entered her vision. Shaking the hallucination from her sight and the noise from her hearing, she scurried to the outer wall and pressed her back against it. She held her breath waiting for another volley of cannon fire, but none came. She let out her breath and surveyed her location. She spied a woman lying under a large wooden beam. Reanna crawled over to the woman. As she looked down at the woman, she realized she was too late—her injuries were too grave.

Voices and footsteps could be heard above. More screams resonated through the ship. Several gunshots rang out followed by loud thuds and angry voices from above. Reanna sat frozen in place as fear gripped her. A voice from the damaged hallway drew her attention. She turned and saw a man walk cautiously down the hall and enter her quarters. He emerged several minutes later, placing her valuables in his shoulder bag. He proceeded to the room across the hall from hers. She could hear the man who booked passage for that room, Mr. Moore, argue with the stranger. There were several shouts and the sound of something breaking. Scuffling and angry grunts could be heard. Reanna jumped when she heard a gunshot. She peered from around the fallen beam and watched the man exit the room with Mr. Moore’s belongings.

As Reanna studied the thief, she could not help but notice a familiarity to him. He was of average height and build. His dirty long red hair was allowed to flow free around his shoulders and his face was covered with a thick curly beard.

Another man soon joined him. “Hurry up, Snowdon. Capt’n said ta make it fast.”

Reanna’s eyes grew wide. Snowdon! Oh, surely not? Surely her David was not part of this murderous rubbish? She adjusted her position to get a better view of the pirates. As the redheaded pirate turned to face her, she sucked in her breath with recognition. “No,” she whispered as she recognized her fiancé. She covered her mouth with her hands to hold in the screams of anger and frustration. As she did so, her arm bumped a loose board and it fell.

The man with David nodded his head in her direction. Reanna looked frantically around. She had no weapons to defend herself with, nothing to cover up with, no place to hide. If she played dead, would they leave her?
Yes
. Once they were gone, she could assist the others. She looked down at the woman beside her. Reanna rubbed her hands in the woman’s large abdominal wound, covering her hands in the warm blood. She rubbed the crimson fluid on her face and chest. She slouched over in an uncomfortable position on one of the fallen beams and closed her eyes.

David made his way in Reanna’s direction. He stepped onto the fallen beam and looked down. Shock crossed his face as he saw her. “Reanna,” he whispered as he bent over her body.

Lay perfectly still
, a voice in Reanna’s head told her. She held her breath and waited. His booted feet stepped on broken glass. She strained her ears to listen, but the only thing she heard was the pounding of her heart. It was beating so loudly in her ears that she was certain that David could hear it as well.

David gently touched her cheek. What in God’s name was Reanna doing in the Caribbean? He studied her. She was covered in blood. He placed his hand on her chest to see if she was breathing. He attentively pulled his hand back and stroked her cheek again.

It took every ounce of restraint she had to keep from biting the fingers of her fiancé. Or should she say former fiancé. The feel of his touch made her skin crawl as if covered in insects. She could feel tears sting her eyes.
Please don’t cry. Please not now.

“David!” the other pirate yelled to her relief.

“Coming, Harold,” David replied. He gently stroked Reanna’s cheek with the back of his finger as if saying good-bye and turned away.

“Anything over there?” Harold asked.

“No. Just a couple of dead women.”

“Dead, huh?”

“Afraid so, mate,” David replied.

“Too bad. We could have used us some women. Gather whatever valuables ya can locate and let’s go.”

David nodded and looked back down at Reanna. “Damn fool woman,” he mumbled to her body as he left.

Reanna slowly let her breath out and partially opened one eye as the tears brimmed, blurring her vision. She cautiously turned her head and watched as David and Harold went up the steps.
Don’t shed a tear over him.
She laid her head back down and looked up at the ceiling. Despite her desire not to cry, tears streamed down her face. David was a pirate and was responsible for Mr. Moore’s death as well as the others on this ship. All the hours she had spent worrying about him were for naught! He had no intention of returning to England for her. He had abandoned her for what? For adventure? For money? She left England, defied her father’s trust to come find him. And for what?

She listened as the pirates left the ship. She could hear their voices shout to each other. “I hope he chokes on his own spit.” Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she sat up and walked over to the large hole that was blasted into the side of the ship. As she peered out, she was greeted with the view of the side of the pirate’s ship and watched as the vessel moved further way. Once she thought it was a significant distance away, she shouted, “I hate you, David Snowdon! I hope you die a slow miserable death!”

To her horror, the pirate ship fired again. The moon’s light shone brightly, reflecting off the projectile. Her eyes grew wide as she observed the cannonball close the distance to her ship. The mortar seemed to be traveling in slow motion. Reanna watched in dismay as the heavy lead ball came at her. She screamed and attempted to flee. The last thing Reanna remembered was a loud explosion. Then the blackness came.