My Bonny Heart (Pirate's Progeny Book 1) by Synclair Stafford Page B

abound in town anyway, and would be apparent when everyone was invited to the wedding feast.
    Raising his eyes to stare back at his friend, he grimaced again . . . not only from the splitting of his head, but the news he was to impart.
    “I’m to have a wife.”
    Henry sat very still for what seemed quite a long time. Addison chewed the inside of his cheek as the news churned in his friend’s mind. Then, Henry threw back his head and laughed, his blond hair bounced against his starched collar.
    Addison scowled and glanced around the room for liquor, a bottle of any kind would do.
    Henry’s laughter trailed off, his tanned face sobered, and a frown creasing his brow. “You do not joke.”
    “No. We’re to be married very soon. I told her the marriage would happen in one week, but she is proving to be somewhat . . . difficult.”
    Henry leaned forward, concern marring his features. “Difficult? You mean, she’s not willingly entered into this?”
    Gnashing his teeth together, he met his friend’s eyes. “Aye, I entered into it willingly. The bride, well, she is taking her time.”
    “Good God, man. You must let me meet her!” One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “She is not tripping over herself to rush you to the altar? Isabel will definitely need to be introduced.”
    “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea at the moment, Henry.”
    “Oh nonsense, I insist. You shall escort her to dinner tomorrow night. We must meet her.” Henry’s enthusiasm did nothing for his headache.
    Tossing the buxom vixen in the storeroom of his home, then swallowing the key . . . well now, that might work—for a while anyway. He would not be able to keep her hidden away indefinitely, he knew. He sighed.
    “I suppose we can attempt it. But, I warn you, she is unlike any woman you’ve ever met.”
    Henry stood and clapped him on the shoulder, his teeth flashing in a wide smile. “Aye, I can see that by the amount of spirits you imbibed last night. By the way, you should wash up. I can smell that alcohol on you, old chap.”
    “Noted,” he nodded, then grimaced at the jolt of pain the movement pushed into his brain.
    “Good God, man,” he chuckled. “She’s not such a chore, is she?”
    He didn’t dare shake his head again, so raised tired, and quite likely, blood shot eyes to his friend. “She is as beautiful as your Isabel, but has a rebellious nature and a flaming temper along with it.”
    Rocking back on his heels, Henry’s brows wiggled. “A challenge, eh? Sounds like the perfect woman for you, my friend.”
    A groan escaped him, not sure if it was because he knew his friend was correct or the state of his body, and then promptly fell back into his chair.
    Irritated by Henry’s laughter, he rested his head on the back of the chair and stared at the wooden ceiling.
    “Love does not come easy, my friend. You have to work for it. Now, six o’clock. Don’t be late or Isabel will have my head.”
    Addison waved his hand in Henry’s direction. “Yes, yes . . . we’ll be there.”
    “Good day, Ad.” The door resounded with a loud thud that reverberated in his aching head as Henry left the office.
    Addison released the growl he’d been holding in since Henry’s entrance.
    It took the rest of the morning and early afternoon, slaving over paperwork and loading a shipment of rice, for his headache to completely vanish. He’d had plenty of time to think about Anne and how to tackle her stubbornness.
    The vessel he was expecting on the morrow would bring a shipment of silks and spices from Barbados. Perhaps he could please Anne by allowing her the pick of some silks before he traded them amongst Charles Town’s establishments. Hoping to sweeten her up, he had come up with a few ways to woo her into niceness before the dinner party with Henry and Isabel.
    By the time he reached Cranford Hall, and after a short ride on his stallion, it was nearing dinner. Delcie, his cook, spied him on his horse in the drive as