Keep My Heart- Prologue

Keep My Heart- 35

“Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike.” 

― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

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She couldn't keep living like this.

Her fear ate her alive, and she was so terribly afraid of Rashleigh. She feigned normalcy, recieving her breakfast in the dining room when she felt up to it, as well as lunch and dinner. Every move she made, he watched her. It was in those moments when she seemed to be traipsing about on egg shells that she realized, he had always been controlling. He had always been manipulative, taking from her what he wanted, and only bearing the rest of her. It angered her, but she dare not display how her past stupidity made her livid. 

He watched her like a hawk watches it's prey...then again, he was a Hawke, and she was his prey. But he stared at the increasing roundness of her belly with disgust, which he showed openly. He had no problem in displaying his hatred for her baby, and she wondered what would have happened if she had been pregnant with his baby. 

He probably would have sent her to the doctor on Fleet Street.

But her baby was safe now, deep inside her womb. She had only to protect herself.

Upon finishing her breakfast one morning, she rose. It would do her good to get some sunshine, she had thought, making her way into the garden in the yard, standing among the newly blooming roses. Olivia smiled, breathing the soft spring air, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin. There was a tiny fluttering, and she decided that her baby liked the sunshine, too. Perhaps he sensed it made his mother happy. 

Birds sang in the trees, and it was a perfect scene. It was nice to be alone. Emery was busy in the library, reading Adam's worn copy of Homer's The Odyssey, with a steaming cup of hot tea. Rashleigh hadn't been at breakfast that morning, much to her relief, but she could only wonder what he was doing. Or where he was.

Dismissing this worry, Olivia Hawke turned to face the lovely red brick of Hawke's Vale, dreaming of how her husband had built it, and how their baby would grow up in a home where his parents loved each other, and where they loved their child despite his mistakes.

Unlike her own parents. They had turned her away when she began living with Rashleigh. Not that she blamed them for disapproving of her actions. If her own daughter began living with a man in sin, she certainly would be angry and come down hard. But she certainly would not turn her daughter away. 

She was so terribly afraid that she would not be a good mother. What if she came off as cold? Or indifferent? Say that her child considered her to be too involved. Love and terror filled her. This baby was her own, born of nights on a lonely beach.

Turning to the flowers, she carressed a pale pink petal. It felt like fine chiffon beneath her fingers, and she examined the stem to make certain there were no thorns to prick her fingers. It was the most perfect rose. Formed well and mature, with full petals. To top it all off, the stem, remarkably, had no thorns. Happily, she broke it off, and held it to her nose. There was little fragrance, but the faintness of it was happy in her nose.

Just then, she was thrown to the ground. She landed on her back with a cry of pain. Dismayed, surprised, she looked up and saw Rashleigh's head blocking out the sun. 

"What do you think that you're doing?" she cried, beginning to get up. 

He kicked her down and she began to cry. 

"You were never his," he muttered, hands approaching his waist band.

She screamed with terror, heart thundering in her chest. She began to crawl backward but he grabbed her harshly by her hair. Crying out, she tore at him, trying her hardest to get away. But he was stronger than she was, pinning her beneath him. She tore and bit and clawed at him, screaming her head off until he flipped her skirts over her head, shoving them in her mouth.

But she squirmed, determined to break free. She tore her skirts from her face, kicking and screaming. But he was stronger than she was, and he slapped her hard in the face.

She continued to fight him, her back aching from his painful shove, and she screamed for help. Help didn't seem to come.

She screamed and she screamed and then there was a loud crack and he was lying on the ground, motionless. 

Tw 

Adam Hawke stood at the helm of the Sun Goddess, peering out into the open sea. Only two days remained, and he would be home. When he got there, everything would be perfect.  He could only imagine how Olivia would run out to meet him.

She would cry. He knew her. She would cry and embrace him and then life, for them, would begin. There would be fifty summers and springs and autumns that they would be together. They would spend the frigid days of winer beside the fire in the drawing room. They would host parties and go to operas and be quite social.

It would be nice to be on land. To sleep in his own bed. To eat at his own table, and live in his house.

He hardly breathed. Olivia had no idea he was to be home. When he got to Boston, he decided, he would stop and buy her a gift. She would be utterly surprised, and he hoped, overjoyed, to see him. Salt water splashed on his boots, reminding him of where he was. Two days from Boston. Two days from Hawke's Vale. 

Two days from his gorgeous wife. When he got home...he smiled at his thought, considering how beautiful she was, and how completely desirable she was. There was no woman as lovely as she, at least to him. He loved her blue eyes and he loved her dark hair. He loved the flawless whiteness of her skin and the kissable nature of her lips. It was difficult to remember a time when he hadn't kissed her, as he had those hot days and voluptuous nights on the beach.

Being marooned was one of the better things that had happened to them. Those short days allowed them to become intimately close, and he was happy they had been. 

The blue of the ocean was blindingly tiring. He wanted to go home and be with his wife. 

"Captain Hawke," Harry said. He was standing beside the very tall Adam Hawke, lanky and awkward, as boys his age were. 

"What is your need, Harry?"

"When...when we reach Boston's harbor...sir, I haven't...you see, my folks aren't-"

"Are you in a bind?" Adam interrupted, straight forward and glancing sidelong at the boy.

"I have no home."

It was a short sentence, sad and full of embarrassment. Adam swallowed.

"There's certainly no shame in that, Harry. I was in your same place as a boy." He paused, then continued. "I am certain that my wife would be more than happy to have someone besides me to fuss over. I can teach you the business if you will come and stay with me at my home."

"I couldn't, sir."

"You certainly could, Harry. Mrs. Hawke and I have open arms to all who are in need. You need a roof over your head." He grinned. "I need a young man to captain the Sun Goddess for me."

"You need a captain for the Sun Goddess?" Harry asked. "I'm certain I haven't the slightest notion of what you mean, sir."

"I want you to captain this ship for me so that I may stay at home and reign over my household."

"You must be joking me," Harry croaked, incredulous as to what he was hearing. His eyes were large and he did not believe it.

"I am endlessly earnest."

They settled it then, and Adam turned with contentment to the skyline. Hawke's Vale awaited.