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Chapter Forty-Five
Time to Go
The early summer heat in the Charleston Lowcountry had become oppressive. As she’d quickly become accustomed, Keelan dipped her handkerchief into a basin near her bed and patted the base of her neck with it. The black garments she wore for mourning did nothing but absorb heat, and the dress itched like the devil. The now familiar trickle of sweat ran between her breasts and she pushed the damp handkerchief down her bodice to absorb the moisture.
Her stomach quivered with a thousand butterflies. The night of the ball, when Landon had taken her into his arms in the moonlit garden and asked her to sail away with him, he’d given her hope that she’d spend her life with someone of her choosing. Her uncle’s choice, Pratt, was an aging plantation owner. Doctor
