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Authors: Grace Walton

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BOOK: The Last Broken Promise
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“You don’t understand, Finn. It’s not for my peace of mind that you should make an account of your misdeeds to the Almighty. It’s for your own sake. For the preservation of your soul.”

“I wish I could honestly do that. And for you I would. But as for my own philosophies, I have none. They are a luxury I’ve not been able to afford. Surviving the battlefield of my life has required all my efforts, spiritual and otherwise.”

“Every person’s life is a battlefield, Finn. Every person struggles to survive. The most blessed among us know God is the one who truly fights our battles.”

“You believe this?” he asked solemnly.

“I do,” she answered. “I believe the trials we face here are just the proving ground that prepare us for a heavenly eternity. I believe that everything we experience comes to us through God’s loving hands.”

His laugh was low and without humor. “I could have done without some of your God’s more radical notions of love.”

“Oh Finn, don’t you see?” She smiled through her tears. “God knows well that pain is often our best teacher.”

A cannon’s loud roar interrupted them. Finn shielded her within the safety of his encompassing arms. He glanced over to the swiftly approaching pirate’s ship.

“Your brother has caught sight of us, Jess,” he murmured into her hair.

“Then why is he engaging his armaments?” she asked as she turned her head to see where the cannon fire was coming from.

“I’d guess because he sees you in my arms in full view of any who care to look,” he responded with notable calm.

“Thus you have achieved your wish to project an image of affection between us, Lord Maitland.”

“You can’t be so deluded as to think I planned this?” The man’s voice was rife with disbelief.

“I’m not sure what I believe,” she admitted sadly. “I only know you’re dangerous. Probably much more so than any of my brothers. And I know I should go with Griffin when he boards your ship. Consider yourself free from all entanglements with the St. John family, Lord Maitland.”

“No, don’t do this Jess,” he pleaded with her. “Just give me a chance. I can be the man you want. I know I can be the man you deserve.”

His desperate request was wildly at odds with what he’d only a few moments before demanded of her. But he couldn’t let Jess St. John slip out of his life without protest. Perhaps he was the madman she named him, after all.

“Without God’s grace and forgiveness, we all deserve Hell,” she answered.

“I don’t believe such foolish nonsense. You could never deserve the everlasting fires of damnation, Jess. Give me a chance. Let me prove to you I can be a man you can be proud of.”

“Finn, you can pose as anyone. A pirate, a nobleman or, a seducer, that’s the issue. You can be and do anything, with no remorse. And apparently with no emotion either.”

“If I’m so unfeeling, why does this feel like the torture of the damned?” he asked furious.

Jess laid her hand along his tight jaw. “I don’t know why. But if it’s any consolation to you, I feel it too.”

“Then don’t go with your blasted brother. Let me take you to Savannah,” he urged. “We can make sense of this… this… thing between us. I know we can.”

Jess shook her head. “No, we can’t. For we are vast worlds apart in all that matters.”

Another cannon volley ripped through the sail. The ship shuddered. It ground to a halt in the rough water as Griffin’s vessel plowed into its stern.

“Curse you St. John!” Finn bellowed at the man swinging over from his own ship by an oiled rope.

As soon as Jess’s youngest brother’s feet hit the deck of McLeod’s vessel, he drew his saber. It gave a harsh, metallic scrape as it was freed from its sheath. The warning was clear. Finn needed to release his hold on Griffin’s sister or perish.

The big man holding the girl wondered if the dying might be preferable. For what would his life become without her? Just more of the same ugly violence and lies. He was so tired of playing deadly games. And for what purpose were they played? Finn had long ago ceased to care about the intrigues of nations. They were almost always based in greed and the lust for power. Neither was a justifiable reason to steal the lives and reputations of other men. And so, with all that in his mind, he released the young woman in his arms.

“Get below and stay there, Jess,” he ordered.

“You will not hurt Griffin,” she demanded.

“No love, I will not harm your brother. Now go.” He gave her a gentle shove towards the stairs.

Jess started to do as he’d asked. But then she realized what he meant to do. Finn turned to face her raging brother. He opened his arms wide as if to invite a merciful death. There was even a small satisfied smile upon his lips.

“No!” she shrieked. She jumped upon his back. She jerked at the fabric of his coat. She might as well have been an annoying insect for all the good it did her.

The man didn’t even slow down. He gently shrugged her off and kept advancing on Griffin. There was a hard, cruel look upon her youngest brother’s face. She’d never seen it before. Part of her hoped to never see it again. She did admit that look gave some credence to Finn’s assertion that her sibling was a killer.

Within a few minutes all her brothers eased down the rope to stand on the rolling deck. That was odd, Jess told herself. Her brothers seldom traveled together. At the moment, they looked like a pack of wolves sizing up their collective prey. She didn’t like the menacing way they all stared at Finn McLeod.

Of course
she
could quite easily watch the dratted man all day long. He was especially appealing as he stood there like a sentinel in the wind of the gathering storm. His long black hair whipped about his head like a seductive whirlwind. The small hoop piercing his left ear caught a stray shaft of weak sunlight. It sparkled a rich, dull gold. His coat had been ripped open by the rising tempest. The same storm flattened his billowing white shirt against the taut, muscled slabs of his chest. Jess thought him magnificent.

He was magnificent, it was true. But he must also be harboring a death wish. For he stood there in a pose of surrender before her obviously incensed kinsmen. She had to save him.

“This is not what it appears,” she explained.

She hurried around to stand in front of McLeod. That one small protective gesture most likely saved the man’s life. Or so she told herself.

“Hello Jess,” Dylan said with a remarkable amount of good cheer.

That in itself was suspicious. Her oldest brother, the Duke of MacAllister was not known for his sunny disposition. He was the most level-headed of the three brothers. But he was also the most cold-blooded. Heartless St. John, he’d been named. He’d been called that partly because of their shared birthmark. But mostly it was due to his Arctic nature. Rory, his wife, had done much to alleviate the darkness and loneliness of Dylan’s life. But even on his best days, he was not a congenial sort.

“Jess.” Connor nodded his blonde, shaggy head in a brief acknowledgement.

He was dressed, as usual, in an Indian’s buckskins. He favored the native mode of dress, unless he was forced to engage in polite society. He was the shortest of her brothers. At a scant six feet in height, he was also the fittest. Long ropes of lean muscle moved under his leather shirt and pants. He was stealthy and dangerous like a swamp cougar.

Her last remaining brother, Griffin, didn’t acknowledge her in any manner. In point of fact, he didn’t take his long, narrow eyes from Finn McLeod. And the saber in his hand, aimed directly at Finn’s heart, never wavered. Griffin was nearest to her in age. And consequently, they were very close. He towered over his brothers. His height almost approached that of Finn’s. But whereas no one would describe McLeod as pretty, Griffin was only saved from that sobriquet by the ruthlessness of his nature. The man before her was almost feral. Jess thought of him now as a leashed predator. One should never poke at such a lethal beast.

“Jess, I’d like you to go below decks. Just for a while. We’ll conduct our business with McLeod quickly. Then we can be on our way,” Dylan said.

If she hadn’t known any better, Jess would have sworn he was making a polite request. But she knew her oldest brother well. That, along with the chilling murderous light in his eyes, made her fearful.

“No, thank you,” she answered with a civil firmness. She stepped more fully in front of Finn.

“It wasn’t a request, Jessamine,” Dylan said mildly.

“I know,” she challenged him.

“You can’t protect the blackguard,” Connor snarled. He’d retrieved a short, nasty looking blade.

Her only response was a belligerent tilt of her pointed chin.

“Take her below,” Dylan ordered the blonde man.

Connor sighed. He slid the horn-gripped blade back into its sheath. “I’ll get her down there. And I’ll make sure she stays. But don’t finish this until I get back.” He started towards the girl.

“If you touch her, I’ll kill you,” Finn promised in an unaffected voice.

Griffin broke his eerie silence to snort in disbelief. “Stop your posturing, McLeod. You know you have no chance against the three of us.”

“Touch her, and we’ll all find out, won’t we?”

“Jess get below. Now.” Dylan’s voice became harsh. He no longer cajoled. He no longer made any pretense of being anything other than what he’d been, a cold-blooded assassin.

“If you would all stop spitting and hissing at each other like tom cats, I could easily explain the situation,” the girl interjected with no small amount of frustration.

“Go below,” Dylan and Finn said at the same time. They frowned at each other.

Jess rolled her eyes at them both. “See, here’s the reason the world is constantly consumed in warfare. Men would rather resort to violence than take the time to listen to reason.

“Connor?” Dylan speared his brother with a telling look.

It was clear he wanted the blonde man to do as he’d been ordered and take their baby sister out of harm’s way. Connor began towards the girl once more. Only to be stopped by Finn’s voice.

“She will go of her own volition. You will not force her,” Finn growled.

“No,
she
won’t,” Jess sniped. “Honestly, I’m standing right here. There’s no need to throw out your chests and beat upon them like jungle animals. Griffin sheath that sword. You look like a fool brandishing the huge thing about. The rest of you quit trying to incite each other to murder.”

“Curse you Jess,” Griffin groused, but he did indeed slide the saber into its scabbard. “You’re our baby sister. There’s a mark on your face. And the wretch all but ravished you in full sight of my ship. What did you expect us to do? Shake his hand and slap him on the back?”

“I expect you to remember that I’m an adult,” she said with primness.

It earned her a cynical snicker from all the brothers.

“That was uncalled for,” she chastised. Then she pointed her finger at them as if they were a pack of rowdy schoolboys. “Captain McLeod had nothing to do with the state of my face. You will not resort to violence.”

“Not in front of you.” Connor smiled when he said it. But it was not a reassuring gesture.

“You will not engage in violence, at all.” Jess frowned. “And I can assure you, what you witnessed was not of a carnal nature, not in the least. So there is absolutely no reason for all this disagreement.” It was a poorly told lie. And since they’d all been involved in intrigue as an occupation, they all knew it.

“He was holding you,” Connor remarked.

“He looked to be kissing you,” Dylan added.

“I’ll kill him!” Griffin’s hand settled once again on the butt of his sword.

“But you see, appearances can often be deceiving. And in this particular case, they certainly were,” she said. Jess nervously smoothed her suddenly clammy hands down the length of her skirt. The blasted thing was dancing about in the stiff breeze.

“Is that the truth?” Dylan directed his pointed question to McLeod.

“No,” the man answered without hesitation.

Griffin’s weapon rang as it was jerked free again. Connor had his knife back in his hand. Dylan smiled, cold and hard.

“I didn’t think so,” the Duke of MacAllister said.

“Wait, just wait.” Jess backed up until she was firmly ensconced against Finn’s wide broad chest. “You would believe the word of a thieving pirate over your own sister?” She went on the offensive.

“He’s not a thieving pirate,” Griffin muttered. “If you don’t know that by now, we’ve more than one problem to resolve.”

“She knows it,” Finn answered gruffly.

“Well, that’s one point in your favor. At least you didn’t lie to our sister, before you ruined her.” Connor took great pleasure in tossing the razor-sharp knife back and forth in his hands.

“I’m not ruined,” Jess said hotly.

All the men turned to glare down at her with incredulity. All right, she thought, maybe I am just a wee bit ruined. But it’s nothing that time, a decade or more, and a nun’s vows couldn’t remedy.

“Jess, step back,” Griffin ordered. “I’d hate to see your black dress get spattered with blood.”

“It’s not a dress, you fool. It’s a nun’s habit,” she muttered. The girl refused to move.

BOOK: The Last Broken Promise
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