Simply Anna Page 14

  Anna and Philip both leaned out of the path of the waving blade.

  Tom lowered the weapon sheepishly, scratching his hand through his hair. “It is a risk, my lord, but I have thought it through, and I know I can make it work.” He stopped talking and folded his arms as he watched for Philip’s response.

  Anna was tempted to take the machete from him before he forgot it was in his hand and hurt someone.

  “It is a risk,” Philip said. He pinched his chin as he gazed at the land around them.

  The silence stretched, and the air felt heavy as tension grew. Tom fidgeted as he waited for Philip’s answer.

  Anna looked between the men, one with his eyes wide and shining with hope and the other with his brows pulled tightly together, staring at nothing while he contemplated the future of his holdings.

  Finally, Philip lowered his hand. “What do you think, Anna?”

  “I?” Anna had not anticipated that she would be any part of this conversation.

  He turned toward her. “Yes. You have shown yourself to possess a level head. That is one of the reasons I brought you with us. What do you think about Tom’s proposal?”

  Anna clasped her hands together behind her back. She paced a few steps and turned. She did not know what answer he expected. Why would an educated member of the aristocracy ask for her advice on business matters? She had no experience in such things—that she knew of. She paced another few steps, contemplating. Would Philip take her advice seriously? Or was he stalling, hoping to avoid answering Tom? Or was he teasing her again?

  She stopped and faced the men. If his lordship wanted her opinion, he would have it. “While it seems that Tom has given his idea a significant amount of thought and research, I do not think he has anticipated every eventuality. There are endless things that could go wrong: a hurricane, a trade embargo, some type of insect infestation. You could lose your entire investment.”

  Tom’s face fell. “But, Anna—”

  She held up her hand. “I am not finished. On the other hand, this land is just lying here unused and is turning no profit whatsoever. If sugar indeed becomes more expensive to produce, the idea of something else to supplement Oakely Park’s income is brilliant. Especially if it means the plantation will not have to depend so heavily on slaves.” She turned to Philip and tapped her fingers together in front of her waist. “You will likely not see the return on your investment for years if everything goes to plan—or ever, if it does not. But if you truly want my opinion”—Anna took a breath and blew it out—“I think a coffee farm at Oakely Park is a marvelous idea.” Anna felt her blush spread across her cheeks. What had possessed her to speak so boldly?

  “Well, there you have it. I will trust in the counsel of my advisor; Tom, we will start plans for the coffee farm immediately.”

  Tom grinned. He strode forward and shook Philip’s hand. “Thank you, sir. You will not be sorry.”

  “But, Philip,” Anna said, “do you think you should give the idea more thought? After all . . .”

  Philip released his hand from Tom’s grip and moved toward Anna. His expression was pleasant, as if he had not just wagered his future on the advice of a young woman with no experience. “Shall we have a picnic?” He offered his arm.

  Tom walked around the area talking to himself as he planned his endeavor.

  Anna placed her hand on Philip’s arm. “I cannot believe you—”

  “Asked for your advice? Or heeded it?”

  “Both, I suppose.”

  “Why is that?” He glanced sidelong at her.

  “Well, because I do not think my advice matters. I am not an expert on such affairs, and it is the future of your plantation—of your very livelihood.”

  Philip stopped and turned to her. He took both her hands in his. “Anna, you may not realize it, but you are exceptionally intelligent, with or without your memory. You consider things carefully, strive to understand every side of an argument, and do not jump into things rashly, a quality I strive for myself.” He lowered his forehead, his eyes serious. “I trust your judgment.” He held her gaze a moment longer and returned her hand to his arm, strolling toward a group of rocks. “That looks like just the spot.”

  They sat on the rocks, and Anna watched a group of hummingbirds flitting among the flowers. Their rapid, jerky movements were a perfect description of what was happening inside her chest. She was still overwhelmed by Philip’s trust in her. And he considered her to be intelligent? He confided in her, trusted her opinion. She glanced to where he was unpacking the bread and fruit that Betty had prepared for their journey.

  Philip’s eyes met hers, and her chest filled again with jerky, darting hummingbirds.

  Anna sighed. A friendship with Philip might be more than her heart could bear.

  Chapter 15

  Philip pulled his eyes away from Anna and concentrated on setting out their picnic. He couldn’t even explain to himself why the young woman’s opinions on the affairs of Oakely Park were so important to him. Was it because she expressed such an interest in the running of the plantation? Or that she gave him confidence in his own ability to manage the place? Whatever the reason, he needed to stop thinking about Anna as if she were a permanent fixture in his life. She would leave soon enough, and Philip would move on, making a practical marriage that would benefit his holdings and his family.

  Into his mind flashed the image of Anna embracing Ezekiel, and Clarissa carrying on and pretending to weep after she’d struck the boy hard enough for him to require stitches. Which woman would he prefer as the mother of his children? He shook his head. Why did he allow these thoughts to take shape when he knew there was no hope for a deeper relationship with Anna?

  He should be grateful she’d come into his life at all, even if it was for a short time. He glanced at her again, studying her profile as she watched hummingbirds zipping between flowers. Her eyes were wide and filled with interest, as they always were when she observed something new.

  She glanced toward him and smiled. His chest warmed. In Anna he felt as if he’d found his perfect match—a woman who was strong where he came up lacking, a woman who completed him—but he’d found her too late. If only they had met years earlier in London. He had no doubt they would have fallen in love. And not the infatuated, mooncalf love he’d felt for Jacqueline, but a real connection with a woman who brought him happiness, who made his life better, who surprised him every day.

  He looked back at the food he was unpacking. Why hadn’t they met in London? It couldn’t have been more than a year or two since Anna was presented at court. Why had he not made her acquaintance at a ball or garden party? Was she from America or another colony? He didn’t think so, based on her accent. Had she married young? That would explain why he’d not encountered her on the marriage mart.

  And it would also explain why he shouldn’t be having these thoughts. He shored up the battlements inside him that had again started to crumble. I am Anna’s guardian and know nothing of her life and the commitments and entailments she may already have. She could very well already be a mother for all he knew. With Anna’s memory returning, he could not think she would simply pick up and start a new life. Her past would take her from him.

  He looked around for Tom and saw the man standing motionless in the middle of the clearing. His hand shaded his eyes, and he appeared to be watching something over the canopy of trees.

  Philip needed to put some distance between himself and Anna if she was to continue looking so bright-eyed and enchanting. He stood and walked away from the overhanging branches to get a better view of what Tom was looking at.

  When he approached, Tom pointed. “Smoke.”

  He looked in the direction the overseer indicated. “Are you certain it’s not just steam from the mountains? Or perhaps a cloud.”

  Tom nodded. “It’s black, rising in a column. Something is burning.”

  Philip squinted. Now that Tom pointed it out, he wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before. He gue
ssed that the fire was on the Landon Grove property, and if it spread in any direction, it would reach Oakely Park.

  “Is there a sugar works at Landon Grove?” Philip asked.

  “I do not think they have planted cane for the past few years, but I don’t know for sure—nobody does. It is thought to be deserted. Besides, this deep in the jungle? It seems impractical.”

  Philip was growing alarmed. A fire in a tropical jungle was unusual, and on a deserted plantation, it seemed even more suspicious. “Should we investigate?” he asked.

  “Definitely.” Tom nodded. They started toward the rocks where Anna waited with their luncheon.

  For a moment Philip considered sending her back to the Great House, but she couldn’t travel alone, not with pirates, highwaymen, and of course, iguana lizards roaming the country. The fire could prove to be nothing at all, but if they did not investigate now, when they were close, they could lose the opportunity without the smoke to direct them.

  Once Anna heard about the fire, she walked to the middle of the clearing and looked toward the source, shadowing her eyes as Tom had.“What do you think could be causing it?” she asked when she returned.

  “It is probably nothing,” Philip said. He darted a look at Tom, hoping the man had enough sense not to comment, for once. He didn’t want Anna to be any more worried than necessary.

  They ate a hurried luncheon then began to trek back through the jungle in a different direction. Tom led the way, hacking with the machete, and Philip followed Anna. He worried about what they would find. His thoughts were a mass of questions. Did people still live and work at Landon Grove? Were escaped slaves or buccaneers using the property as a hideout?

  Anna stopped in front of him and gasped.

  Philip’s heart jolted. He pulled out his pistol and shouldered his way around to stand between her and whatever threatened her. His gaze darted around as he searched for the danger.

  She laid a hand on his arm, giggling as she peered around him. “Philip, please do not shoot the butterfly.”

  He looked up and saw that the colorful insect had alighted on a leaf ahead of them. His shoulders sagged in relief.

  Anna giggled again, pressing her fingers against her mouth. “It is large to be sure, but I do not think it is any cause for alarm.”

  Philip returned the weapon to his pocket and allowed himself a smile. He felt foolish at his overreaction. He peered closer at the butterfly. It was truly enormous, with a wingspan of at least six inches.

  “It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Anna said, watching as the wings moved slowly up and down like a hinge.

  He noticed that Anna’s hand was still on his arm, and she leaned around him in the narrow tunnel of vegetation in order to see the butterfly. He turned to the side to allow her to pass. “It is beautiful,” he said. “And there is no need to fear. I have determined it to be completely harmless.”

  “You are very gallant, Philip.” She patted his chest as she stepped past. “I am lucky to have such a brave protector when my life is thus threatened by such a malevolent creature.” She winked and continued to follow Tom.

  Philip’s heart did a slow roll. She obviously had no idea of the effect her teasing had on him. He followed, shaking his head and muttering to himself, I am Anna’s guardian.

  The jungle grew thicker as they delved deeper into the mountains, and even with Tom cutting a path, each step became nearly a swim through the vegetation. They ducked beneath vines and low-hanging branches, stepped over roots, and circumvented trunks. Branches snapped in their faces and caught on their clothing. The wet, hot air was difficult to breathe, and drops of sweat rolled down Philip’s back. After nearly an hour, they emerged onto a rocky mound, and Philip looked up, finding the thick column of smoke just in front of them over a small rise.

  Tom held up his hand as a signal for them to wait and pushed ahead. He returned a moment later, motioning them forward but placing a finger over his mouth.

  Philip’s stomach quivered.

  They followed him up a hill and then down a slope to the edge of a riverbank. Tom pointed to a clump of trees and long grass, and they scooted down the sandy incline, crouching and pulling aside the undergrowth to peer through the foliage.

  The sight before them turned Philip’s blood to ice. In a wide clearing on the other side of the river, he saw what appeared to be a makeshift work camp. Horace Braithwaite strode back and forth barking orders and yelling profanities that could be heard across the noisy river. He and a band of seven men directed a group of slaves as they transferred rum, treacle, and sugar into smaller barrels and sealed them with hot pitch. The dark-skinned laborers were gaunt, and their clothing hung on their bones, making them appear like scarecrows. Philip wondered where Horace had found them. Were they forgotten workers from Landon Grove? They must be nearly starved. He was surprised the ill-looking people found the energy to lift the heavy barrels.

  On one side of the clearing was an entire storage shed’s worth of hogshead barrels in a haphazard pile. They had obviously held the sugar and other goods from the plantations that had been robbed. Though he couldn’t see it from this distance, Philip knew Oakely Park’s barrels must be among them. He thought he recognized his stolen carts and mules.

  Once the goods had been transferred, another group took the empty barrels and burned them to remove any symbols that identified the original owners.

  Philip clenched his jaw in rage.

  Anna laid a hand on his arm, and he turned to see her wide eyes filled with horror.

  “Horace Braithwaite,” he whispered.

  The men supervising the operation shoved and berated the slaves, but Horace was by far the cruelest. He kicked one man as he passed, sending him sprawling in the dirt and then thrashing him with a whip.

  Anna pressed her hands to her mouth, and Philip’s stomach lurched. He pulled Anna toward him, turning her face from the sight. When Horace stopped his tirade, the man lay motionless.

  Philip released Anna and looked at his companions grimly.

  “What do we do, Philip?” Anna’s eyes were wet, and her lips trembled.

  “We must go for the constable in Port Antonio,” Tom whispered. “We have proof now, and—” His gaze darted across the river, and he sucked in a breath through his teeth.

  Philip glanced back through the grass to see what had alarmed his overseer.

  Philip pressed Anna against his chest once more, cupping her head with his hand as the report of a gunshot echoed through the jungle. Anna clung to his jacket. Her body was stiff, and she shook. Philip wrapped his other arm around her shoulders and didn’t loosen his hold.

  She cringed again as another shot rang out.

  The man was a maniac who took pleasure in inflicting pain and causing terror. Philip had seen it the first day he’d met Horace. The man had murdered an entire gang of workers just to exact revenge on Philip, and there was no doubt that he’d have no qualms about killing the three of them too.

  Horace screamed at the slaves, who hurried about their duties with renewed energy.

  Philip did not release his hold on Anna; he didn’t want her to see what was taking place across the river. The other slaves hurried to their tasks, not glancing at the overseer again.

  Every instinct directed that Philip should charge across the river and avenge his people and his property. His heart pommeled against his ribs. His vision clouded with red, and his muscles tightened. He judged the distance and how many men he and Tom could overpower. They’d have the advantage of surprise—

  A silent sob from Anna pulled his mind from its fury and back to the young woman. He could not abandon her and allow his anger to dictate his actions. There must be another way to see that justice—and vengeance—was delivered on his enemy.

  Philip lowered his head so his mouth was next to her ear. “If we are seen, they will kill us.” He looked down at the head of blonde hair that lay against him. “Anna, we must flee.”

  She raised her head. Her face
was pale, and her eyes filled with panic.

  Philip thought she might scream. He placed his fingers over her lips. “Can you follow Tom?”

  Anna glanced at Tom and nodded. She shifted around on her knees and positioned herself to run. Her hand was fisted in front of her mouth, and she breathed heavily. Her body still shook, and Philip hoped she would be able to maintain her calm until they were safely away from Horace and his men. He did not harbor any doubts that the villains would kill them without a second thought.

  “Lead the way, Tom,” Philip said. He scooted closer to Anna, crouching behind her.

  Tom nodded, glancing back up the bank in the direction they’d come. He moved away from the patch of grass toward a dead log and started up the sandy bank.

  Too late, Philip realized the log was, in actuality, a large crocodile sunning itself on the sand.

  Without warning, the crocodile swung toward Tom, clamped its enormous jaws around his foot, and began pulling him down the bank to the river.

  Chapter 16

  Anna pressed her hands to her mouth to muffle the sound of her scream. Her pulse banged in her ears. She darted a glance across the river. Because of the patches of thick vegetation and the noise of the river, Horace and his men were still unaware of their presence.

  Tom’s jaw clenched, and his eyes bulged in pain and terror as he slid down the embankment. He jabbed at the beast with his machete, but it had no effect.

  Philip darted forward and grasped his arm. His strength was no match for the crocodile, which continued to pull Tom toward the water. Philip drew the pistol. He glanced across the river, then up behind them to the edge of the forest, then back to Tom.

  Anna ran, hunched over, toward him. She could see the battle in Philip’s mind displayed on his face. If they were discovered, the men would most certainly pursue them, but he couldn’t leave his friend to be killed by this monster.