Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Hawk’s Cove Plantation, five months later

Colonel Morgan and his commanding officer, General Harrington, headed toward the main house. Both men were in military dress, riding horses that were decked out as well. They were followed by more soldiers.

His house was a huge stone mausoleum. Large marble pillars graced the front and a veranda ran the entirety of the house. At four stories high, it screamed wealth and power. It wasn’t a happy place for him, never had been.

Dismounting at the house, Trace walked with the general, both bearing stoic faces up the stairs. The door opened by a silent black man dressed impeccably in the burgundy and royal blue colors of Hawk’s Cove. It was obvious that the colonel was recognized by the man, but he made no noise.

Inside there were more men waiting to take their coats and open doors. The inside was even more spectacular than the outside. The floors were marble, and they sparkled with cleanliness. The wood banisters gleamed and the smell of lemon and beeswax filled the air.

The men took no notice but walked down the hall toward the office, where Colonel Morgan opened the door without knocking. Behind the desk was a blond man with his hand up a young slave girl’s dress. He was laughing cruelly at the pain he was causing her.

Without missing a step, the general addressed the man. “Sergeant Morgan.”

The man paled then, if at all possible, did so even more when his eyes fell on the man next to the general. The scared girl shrank back and tried to hide from the view of the men in the room.

“Sergeant Morgan.” This time there was a warning in his voice. “You are hereby placed under military arrest for the false impersonation of an officer. For the conspiracy to commit murder of a superior officer, you are also being charged.”

“Trace. You’re alive. I thought you were dead.” Steven rose and made like he was going to hug his brother.

“Don’t come near me. Your plan failed, brother.” Trace stalked up to him leaned into him so only he could hear. “While I doubt you remember what I told you long ago because I’d just beaten you into unconsciousness, I’ll remind you. I said you would never hurt me again. You and that bitch of a woman I married, tried to have me killed, accept your punishment.”

“You can’t let them take me. I’m your brother. Damn it, Trace. Don’t let them take me.” Steven’s voice strained with fear as two men positioned themselves on either side of him.

“You are not my brother. I don’t have a brother.” His voice was harsh and emotionless as he watched the men take his brother from the house and put him in the back of a wagon with chains on his hands and feet.

After his brother had been removed, Trace sat down behind the desk. The only one left in the room were the general and the girl who huddled, scared, in the corner.

Trace turned to her. “What’s your name?”

“Sandy, Master, sir.”

“Go on, Sandy. Go to wherever you should be right now.”

“That would be here, Master, sir. Master Steven keeps me here for three hours a day.” Her voice trembled at that admission.

“Then go home, Sandy. Go on.”

“Yes, sir, Master, sir.” She backed out of the room, looking at them like they were going to jump on her any second.

After the door shut behind her, the general looked him. “What are you going to do now?”

“I’m done. I’m going to do something for myself now. I’m going to get my son, then I will be going to track down the woman who’s left her mark on me. I think I am going to England.”

“You don’t know where she is? Who is she? What about Bethany? Done with what?”

“She is Leona. She is the other half of my soul. I am going to divorce Bethany and go find her. I’m done with the army. I am resigning my commission.”

The general eyed his man with renewed interest.

“Is there nothing I can say to keep you in the army? You’re too good an officer to lose. Why not just take some time and find this woman then come back?”

Trace turned serious eyes to the general. “She and I wouldn’t be welcome here. I have lived too long conforming to this island‘s beliefs. Eden may be changing but not fast enough for me. I need to be happy and she makes me happy. The color of her skin should have no bearing on that, but here it does. I will die before I inflict more pain on her. Never again.”

Jonas Harrington stared at him. “Who is she? The girl who just left?” There was no condemnation in his voice, just fatherly concern.

“No, she is not a slave. Not anymore. She is my best friend, or was at one time. The one I told everything to. But now she has some man in her life named Jackson O’Neill.”

“Jackson O’Neill. Jackson O’Neill? Tall, dark hair, blue-green eyes? From Ireland? Sells things, deals with monetary matters? That Jackson O’Neill?” Jonas asked, surprised.

“You’ve heard of him?”

“Oh yes. His knowledge of financial matters is legendary. Even here on this island. He is considered to have the Midas touch. His fighting skills are also legendary. I have never had the opportunity to meet him but those who have speak highly of his abilities, and women speak highly of his appearance. He’s supposed to know some of the higher-ups in England. You know, members of the ton and all that.

“The last I heard he had left England and was hidden on an island and had taken up with a…a woman of color. It is said that their love was so strong they still speak of it on that island. I didn’t know that it was the island you were sent to.”

Trace knew Jonas wished for his friend Trace to be happy, but if Leona were truly in love with this Jackson fellow he would never stand a chance.

“Look, General, I have served well. I have to get on with my own life now. I’m going to deal with Bethany first then head back to the island and see if I can track her down.” He would not, he vowed, dwell on the fact that it was well known that Jackson was with a woman of color. Leona would be his.

“I won’t argue that you have served well. Don’t hesitate to call upon me if you ever need anything. Anything at all. For what it’s worth, I hope you find her, Trace. Really, I do. There is only one person out there who will complete your soul and when you find them, one must do whatever necessary to keep them. Keep in touch, Colonel, and let me know how it turns out.”

Jonas rose and stuck out his hand, which Trace took. The two men shook hands and the general nodded once more. He did an about-face then marched out of the door without looking back. Trace watched from the window as he rose into his saddle and led the men down the drive with Steven chained in the back of the wagon.

Sitting back down at his desk, Trace began making a list of all the things he had to do. Find Bethany and deal with her issue in his attempted murder. Divorce her. Find the papers on Leona and her mother and make sure that they were set free. Find out where she and Jackson went then follow. Win her back.

* * * *

Somewhere along the English coast

“What do you think, lass?”

“Oh, Jackson. It’s beautiful. I love it. Are you sure we can afford it?”

“Lass, you can afford something much bigger if that is what you wish for.” His voice told her he would get her whatever she desired.

“No, this is just perfect.” She slid her arm around the waist of the tall man next to her as she took in her new home.

It was a small cottage, only six rooms. Built out of stone, it sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking the raging surf. There was a path that led to the water from the house.

A small herb garden had been planted for her and there were rose bushes all around. A forest was not far off in the distance and there was a small stable for her newly acquired horses.

The interior had been done according to her own pleasures, except for Jackson’s room. That had been his to redo as he saw fit. It was open and airy, but when the windows were shut the cold damp air was stopped from reaching her.

Her bedroom was done in a pale green. Very open and spacious. Dark mahogany furniture graced her home upstairs and down.

Tucked away where the forest met the edge of the cliffs was her studio. She would be there daily as she painted overlooking the water. It was perfect. The only thing missing was…well, a man to share it with.

Jackson was wonderful, but he wasn’t the one she wanted to share it with in that way. The one she wished for, dreamed about, had chocolate-brown eyes, not eyes the color of the ocean. Brown hair, not black. His gaze made her tremble inside and made her want to do things she would never think about with Jackson, who had the honor of being the father figure in her life.

She wanted Trace, just as she always had. Just as she always would.

The arrival of a carriage made her turn. It was a well-sprung ride with an emblem on the side that told her whose it was. Liveried men jumped down as soon as the wheels stopped. Opening the door, they helped out a stunning woman.

The Marchioness of Heartstone. She was exquisite. Her eyes twinkled with good humor as she settled them on Leona and Jackson.

“Good day.” She reached for Leona’s hand without waiting for introductions. “I know I am a day early, but I couldn’t wait to meet you. You must be Jackson. Thanks for bringing her here. Please, call me Ciara.” The woman spoke fast, actions from her hands mimicking the speed.

The woman was amazing. She had eyes the color of whiskey and long black hair. Leona looked at her and felt her mouth drop open. She wore pants, buckskins, like Leona did at times. At a nudge from Jackson, she closed her mouth.

Leona stared at this woman who had asked for her. Her. To do their familial portrait. A glance down at her own clothes made Leona feel dowdy standing next to the marchioness in pants no less.

Reaching out a slim copper hand only adorned with a single topaz and diamond ring, she squeezed Leona’s hand in comfort and understanding.

“My husband is probably right behind me and the kids will be coming tomorrow with the luggage, so we have a little while to get to know each other.” She flicked her gaze between Leona and Jackson. “How long have you two known one another?”

“Thirteen years,” Jackson said as he slid his arm around Leona in a gesture of affection and support. “I’ll go inside and make sure a room is ready for you and your husband. Until later, Lady Heartstone.” He gave Leona a quick squeeze and headed off.