Fickle Butterfly (Ardent Soul Series Book 1)

  Fickle Butterfly

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  L.D. Wosar

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty -One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty – One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty- Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Forty-Six

  Forty-Seven

  Forty-Eight

  Forty-Nine

  Fifty

  L.D. Wosar

  One

  Emily Coates ran through the crowded theater, tears of humiliation blinding her. Carpeted floors did not disguise her clanking boot heels along the corridors in her search for a way out. She could hear her father's voice in her head proclaiming Richard Barnes comparable to the Saint of Cape Corinna, as opposed to Emily's now personal experience.

  Finally, she made it outside, and the sound of Richard calling her name echoed in her head. Daniel was her butler mostly, and chauffeur when Murtagh was off. He stood by the carriage, too involved in his book to notice her run up to him.

  "Daniel!" She called out his name, startling him. "Where were you?" Daniel tried to gain his composure, although he was fumbling to keep the book from falling to the ground.

  Emily straightened out her dress and moved the chocolate, wavy tendrils of hair from her face. "Pardon me, Miss Emily–Mr. Barnes paid me and said I didn't need to be in there with you two." She swiped him on the arm with her purse. She was so angry that her emerald eyes were two shades lighter.

  "He is not paying you, my father is, and you were supposed to be seated directly behind us–had you done what you were supposed to, I would not be running away,"

  Richard called her name again, Emily scrambled into the carriage rear. Daniel fumbled onto the driver's seat and stayed put until Emily poked her head out of the window, urging him to go–and make it fast. They raced by where Richard stood; Emily reached for the scarf he held out. The veil danced in the breeze, and she waved goodbye to him. Another unsuitable man under her belt as she pondered when the madness was going to stop.

  Two

  "What in the hell is in Cape Corinna?" Captain Noah Hathaway asked his old friend and sailing companion, Captain Blaine Alexander.

  Blaine arched his brow and sighed. He chose not to answer the same question Noah had been asking for months. His father, Admiral Winston Alexander, had given him no choice-he had to escort Noah to the States until Noah's merchant vessel, the Papillon, docked at Cape Corinna.

  There was trouble for Noah back in London, and Admiral Alexander thought it would be in Noah’s best interest to get him out of England until things died down.

  Noah’s involvement with widowed heiress, Violet McLane, had turned ugly, especially after some of her prized jewels went missing. Of course, Noah had been accused. Whether or not he would admit to this crime was a different story. He’d chosen to stay silent.

  "Noah, Noah, Noah, I have already told you many times already and this will be the last time. Cape Corinna is home to Admiral Carlton Coates and the famous Miss Lizzy's blueberry tarts." Blaine was so tired of listening to Noah for weeks with no break, and his attitude nearly pushed him over the edge. Clenching his fists to steel himself from clocking Noah, Blaine continued in a curt manner. “Oh, come now, I’ve had to listen to you complain incessantly about being a victim of circumstance-it is draining."

  Noah rolled his eyes and replied, pulling out his pocket watch. The man had habits, and this was one, he always had to check the time. "Who else is so kind and patient to listen to my side of it? At least your father understands."

  "My father doesn’t know you like I do. You have made yourself the victim when I know better. Besides, your moping, especially about Miss McLane, is a bit sordid if you think about it. You must like torture. Just do me a favor and stop mentioning that woman. I don't want to hear another word." Blaine retorted, taking over the wheel to give his lieutenant a break.

  Noah sniffed at Blaine’s comments, he needed someone to take pity on him-anyone. But it was no surprise when he didn't get it from his old friend. Blaine told it like it was and did not deem it necessary to take pity on anyone unless it was warranted. "Honestly, it serves no purpose for me tagging along for some damned tarts, what is the real reason you need to go to Coates's land?"

  Blaine wanted to wrap up this conversation, but Noah kept harboring him. “You are not aboard the Ardent Soul as an invitation, I had no choice-I had to bring you and it is honestly ruining my holiday.” Blaine was not only doing a favor for his father, but he was also traveling there to see an old friend, and frankly, it was none of Noah's business. “Why don’t you go to the galley and get yourself some breakfast? I need to clear my head.” It was an eloquent way of telling Noah that he was getting on Blaine’s nerves-which he clearly was.

  However, Blaine was now thinking about Carlton's daughter. It had been years since he had seen her, and the questions swam around in his head. What did she look like now? Was she married? Was she even back in the states since the last time he had seen her was at least five years ago in Toulouse? Emily Coates had to be eighteen or nineteen now as he recalled the ten-year age difference.

  She was a lovely young girl, so endearing, so shy, and so reserved. He heard that she had changed over the years and though she was opinionated and outspoken, she was as kind as any lady could be.

  Of course, he was not going to Riona looking for love – he was making a quick stopover, and his interest in Emily was merely a curiosity if anything.

  Three

  "What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behavior to you at the time had merited the severest reproof."

  Seventeen-year-old Emily Coates sat under a large oak in the park reading ‘Pride and Prejudice’; she emulated Jane Austen–the wit, the irony of her written word. Emily swore that Miss Austen wrote with her in mind and put her thoughts in black and white. Clint Hawkins begged to differ; he thought Emily was a foolish, fickle girl who drove him crazy at every turn.

  Reading in the park with her dearest friend, Clint, was the only way to get her mind off the endless stream of potential suitors since Christmas. She lost count after six, and it was only the month of April. The man she ran away from at the theater weeks before was the straw that broke the camel's back, and she had put an end to her father's schemes of marrying her off to whomever he deemed worthy.

  With that thought abruptly erased from her mind, she continued to read passages from Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice.' Reading soothed her more than its comforted Clint, who preferred to nap and to snore loudly, to boot.

  "Clint Hawkins? Wake up!"

  He jolted awake. "You are
still reading that utter nonsense?"

  "Next time you pick what I should read to you then, rather than complaining about what I read all of the time." She smacked his leg to get his attention and sighed. "I do wonder if the man I eventually meet will be anything like Mr. Darcy." She continued reading, "We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening," said Elizabeth. "The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then, we have both, I hope, improved incivility." Clint groaned and fell back on the blanket. Emily looked down at him, incensed.

  "Fine, fine, I’m sitting up. I will stay in this position, so long as you stop reading." He did as he promised and leaned against the tree with his legs outstretched. "You know how much I hate Jane Austen, and yet, you insist on reading that sludge to me." Emily glared at him and pushed him over, "Because of that assault, I swear if you read one more passage, we will lose all civility."

  Emily rolled her eyes and nodded. "Promise?"

  Clint rose to his feet and stretched, making an obnoxious groan. "So, you wonder if the man you desire will be like Mr. Darcy." Excitedly, Emily nodded her head and smiled until he continued. "That being the pompous and not very friendly sort that Darcy is?" Her smile disappeared, and she shrugged. "Who would compare to Mr. Darcy? Hmmm, a few come to mind, but I think you already courted them all. I guarantee it. However, if you do not meet Mr. Darcy, then you will have no choice but to marry me."

  She giggled and stood up with her parasol in hand. She said, "Oh, get that thought out of your head. You are like my brother, so that will never happen in this lifetime."

  Clint groaned and gave her a playful pout. "Thank you for reminding me, once more, that I am not worthy of marrying you. What would happen if in some perfect world we could marry one another?"

  Who wouldn't want to marry Clint? He was a handsome young man in his own right, lean is what she would call him, and his bowler cap always Capered his chestnut hair.

  When they were younger, they tried to see if their feelings ran more profound than mere friendship. There was a stolen kiss-but no passion, no butterflies. It was a friendly kiss, but it was not memorable as far as either was concerned.

  "I could never see you more than an obnoxious, protective, older brother. You would not survive a day living with me; your snoring alone would give me a reason to smother you with a pillow." She turned around and started to laugh when she saw that Clint was not able to come up with a response.

  He laughed, took the book out of her hand, and started to run. "Oh, no, you didn't just do that, Clint Hawkins." She began to chase after him, but he was too fast to catch up with, and then he disappeared. "Mr. Hawkins? Where did you go, you evil little snipe?"

  When he jumped out from behind the tree, she squealed and pushed him while snatching her book out of his hand. She tore off in a mad dash, looking over her shoulder for Clint, unaware of what was ahead of her when she ran into a man who had just left the cafe.

  Noah Hathaway had barely set foot on the sidewalk before the wind was knocked out of him.

  "Oh, I beg your pardon, sir; I should have been paying better attention to where I was going!" Breathless, she looked up to notice a rather agreeable man. Although she was not fond of a man with lighter features, his crystalline blue eyes took her breath away. Her cheeks blushed at the look of annoyance on his face. Embarrassed now, she tried to walk away until he placed his hand on the side of her arm.

  "Where is the fire, Miss?"

  "Oh? The fire? He’s behind me.” She was still distracted, as she looked behind her. "Once again, I do apologize. I must run." Emily curtsied to the man and continued her mad dash towards the shipyard.

  "Do pay attention to your surroundings," he called out. “Idiot girl.” He muttered under his breath until he was nearly bashed into by another, and he met the reason she was running.

  Clint doubled over trying to catch his breath and asked, "Have you seen a young lady wearing some greenish-bluish bonnet?"

  "Dark Brown hair? Angelic face?"

  Clint nodded, still breathless, with a dubious tone, answered, "I guess."

  "She ran for the shipyard." Clint smiled and tipped his hat to the man, thanking him in the process. “I hate this town already,” Noah thought, shaking his head.

  NOAH SMILED AND PROCEEDED toward the inn, to find Blaine looking intently towards the shipyard.

  Noah asked, "What are you looking at?"

  "A boy chasing what appears to be a rather elegant girl," Blaine remarked, unable to take his eyes off the girl.

  Blaine was the kind of man that Clint would tease Emily endlessly about, knowing he would spark her interest. Clint would comment: 'Lanny, one look at this man and you would be saying 'I do' before the first course.' Blaine Alexander was undoubtedly her type, from an aesthetic standpoint, and he would tick all her boxes.

  "Are you eyeing your next conquest?" Noah asked in a snarky but joking manner.

  "That's the pot calling the kettle black, Hathaway," Blaine said. Slipping on his gloves, he chuckled, "One of these days you will actually have an appreciation for a lady, one that is more useful than just laying on her back for you."

  Noah sniffed at his comment. "That little one is beautiful, that is for certain, and I have staked claim, so you need to maintain your distance." Blaine groaned at that comment. "You know, Alexander, it is probably safe to say that those two are courting–he seems pretty smitten.” Noah didn't know the young man, yet, a grin appeared on Blaine’s face when he focused and finally recognized Clint-the one he loved to torment when they were boys. Most of the time, Clint’s hot-headed temper got him into trouble, and Blaine fed upon that.

  Blaine arched his brow at Noah and started to walk toward the shipyard. "We can discuss the matter of the girl later; we should make our appearance to Admiral Coates before he sends the dogs out for us."

  Both men got a cramp in their necks trying to get a better look at her as she hid from Clint behind a crate. "You are right, she is quite agreeable," Noah said, while Blaine chuckled.

  When the young girl looked their way and bashfully smiled at Blaine, she awkwardly waved at him. He nodded his head to her, nearly running into the back of another sailor as the recognition hit him. "That is not little Emily Coates, is it?" He thought to himself.

  "Pardon me, sir," the young sailor saluted and practically stumbled on his feet to get out of the way.

  "Carry on, sailor," Blaine said, not slowing his pace. Noah muttered something under his breath.

  "Did you say something, Noah? I was a bit distracted,” Blaine joked, while chuckling.

  Noah shook his head and muttered, "No, no–I said nothing." He was jealous of how she was stealing glances at Blaine and wanted to be the center of her attention, the only one to be her center of attention.

  Four

  Clint's voice carried while speaking to his good friend, Ewan Fraser. Mr. Fraser had the job of being Admiral Coates's administration assistant. The young man was kind, and he was congenial; but this aside, Ewan was of the worst employees that Carlton had. It was a good thing his father was Carlton's good friend; he would have been fired many times over otherwise.

  Clint was fifteen minutes late, which was uncommon for him since he usually teetered on the thirty-minute tardy zone. "HAWKINS?!" Carlton called out. Carlton Coates was Admiral of the Merchant Vessel, Envious Calypso and was as stern with the men as he was gentle. However, on the latter, Emily would beg to differ. Her father was hard on her, he had to be for even though her moral compass was expansive; she had a bit of a rebellious streak too. Emily loved to correct her father and tell him she was spirited, not rebellious.

  Rushing into the office, Clint noticed two men sitting with their backs to him. He stopped in mid-run and did not want to get any closer, knowing that the Admiral was going to chide him in front of the men.

  "What time are you scheduled to be here?" Carlton asked.

  "Eight on the hour," Clint answered, as he pulled a chai
r over, and the minute he noticed Blaine, he rolled his eyes before a huge grin appeared on his face.

  "Nice to see you too, Lieutenant Hawkins.” The interaction confused Noah, unaware the two men had history. They both shook hands; neither of them had issues with the other, so it made no sense to be less than civil to one another.

  Carlton cleared his throat and walked over to pour himself a cup of tea. "Hawkins? What time is it?"

  Pulling out his pocket watch, Clint squinted his eyes and smiled at Carlton. "Eight on the hour?" he answered and held his pocket watch up to his ear to hear it was not ticking. "I think my pocket watch has stopped again." Tapping it on the arm of the chair, he commented, "I think I need to get a new one."

  Blaine removed the watch from Clint's hand and set it fifteen minutes past the actual time, before winding it. Holding it up to his ear, he smiled. "By George, it ticks."

  Clint snatched the watch from Blaine's hand, glaring in his direction. Embarrassed, he held the watch up to his ear and slyly placed it into his pocket.

  "Captain Alexander, what brings you here?" But before Blaine could answer Clint, the young Lieutenant looked over at Noah, "Now, who are you?"

  "Your superior," Noah answered, not expecting the uproarious laughter that came out of Clint's mouth. "I don't see what is so humorous, Lieutenant Hawkins."

  Clint continued to laugh until he saw the look on Carlton's face. "Captain Hathaway requires a second in charge, and I recommended you."

  Clint’s face grew serious, "You're not sailing out, Admiral Coates?"

  "Not this time around, family crisis up in Boston. Emily’s cousin is getting married, and my sister needs my moral support." Clint looked over at the men, as Blaine raised his eyebrows at him.

  "Will Lanny be going with you?" Clint asked.

  "Of course, she will; she hasn't a choice. Now, do me a favor and get your logs caught up, as well as Captain Hathaway's vouchers. His ship should be here in the next three days, and he plans to leave soon after that. Am I correct?" Carlton was always gentle in his approach to everyone.