Follow Her Heart

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Beaten and nearly raped by her step-brother Martin - this is how Jessie Denton's internal dialogue started on a daily basis. "I only need to make it through one more day." The bruises on her face will fade...because they always did. Her life, as she knows it is pathetic and deplorable. Not hardly being a notch above the street rats that scurry at her heels for food. But she always managed to get by. UNTIL THIS NIGHT and she met HIM. It started out the same as any other night-cheating and stealing at cards. But when her hand brushed against his-all became lost for her. Sir Lucian Hawthorne would rather have been anywhere else but The Mate's Table where he met his friends for a casual game of cards. That is until his eyes held the sapphire ones of the waif sitting on his right. He knew the boy cheated and he waited for him in a darkened alley. Now everything had changed for him. What he thought to be a boy, turned out to be a luscious female. Now she and her blue eyes haunted his dreams nightly. Can their chance encounter bridge the gap between two different worlds and cause love to grow? Or will betrayal, secrets, and lies tear them apart forever?

Romance / Drama
Age Rating:


Copyright © 2020 M. L. Taylor
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America ©

Book 1 of The Love Triangle Series.

May 4, 1830

This isn’t how it is supposed to be, she thought with unease. Feelings of doubt started to take hold of her stomach, and as it grew, it spread upwards threatening to strangle her.

The baby started to whimper in her arms again, and even though the chilled night burnt her exposed skin, beads of sweat trickle down the small of her back.

“Please, don’t start crying again,” she whispered in a half sob as a cold worm of fear gnawed at her insides. She swaddled the baby tighter to her bosom. Her body bounced up and down in an attempt to alleviate what was bothering the child. Even though she knew what it was.

It was hungry and cold; covered in its mother’s blood.

She had a habit of not thinking things through before she made a drastic move. This baby was no exception. In fact, it might be her greatest mistake to date. The child was born last evening, to parents who would have loved it until their last dying breaths. But she didn’t care. She saw an opportunity, so she took it. White healthy babies brought good money - if you knew the right buyers.

And she did know the right buyers. At least, she thought she did. Her heart hammered in her chest as she scanned the deserted streets from her shadowed perch, praying Mika would show. When she saw a lone rider coming her way, she stepped back farther into the shadows in an attempt to remain hidden. With her back pressed tightly against the building, her eyes scrutinized the person sitting tall upon his horse. The street lamp from above gave her enough light for her to determine that he was not who she waited for. This man had a dark beard, with gray specks trying to push its color through. He wore a hat that was pulled low, shielding his eyes, and long beak-like nose. His long, stringy hair looked like it hadn’t felt the cleanliness of soap in weeks.

Her gut knotted and she held her breath until he was completely past her; then she leaned her head back onto the building and lifted her eyes. “This was a mistake,” she whispered, trying to calm her unease. The sound of horse hooves hitting the cobblestone made her lift her head and look back towards the street. The unknown rider had returned and stopped on the street. His eyes found her in the shadows.

In a flash of fear, she realized too late what was happening and it caused her grip to tighten on the baby.

“Do you have the child?” the man drawled, with a deep voice that echoed through the quiet night.

Her eyes grew wide, and she licked her lips, nodding her head hesitantly.

A low chuckle flowed from his lips, and he turned his horse, pointing it in her direction. Once he was aligned with her, the man jumped from his perch and landed surefootedly before her. He eyed her up and down, before he spoke, “Is this the child?”

He was a big man, standing easily a head taller than herself. “M-Maybe,” she stammered. “D-Depends on whether or not you have the coin that was promised.”

Again, he laughed. “Oh, I have the coin.” He lifted his hand to the baby in an attempt to pull the swaddling blanket down and get a better look at it.

She jerked her body away, shielding the baby from his touch. “Where is Mika?” her voice pitched with unease. “I- I don’t know you. I was supposed to be meeting Mika here.”

The man lifted his hand to his pocket and pulled out a cheroot. He settled it on his bottom lip, and then lit a match. “Mika couldn’t be here,” he said as he drew on the rolled cigarette. “Is the child male or female? There seems to be a greater need for male babies.” He blew smoke from the corner of his mouth and reached for the baby again. The whole while his eyes remained fixed to her face. It seemed like he was daring her to deny him again as he slid the blanket down.

This time, she didn’t flinch away. “Does it really matter what the sex is?” she whispered, bouncing the baby in her arms as she watched him inspect the child.

He shrugged his shoulders and let out a long sigh. “It makes no difference to me really,” he said flatly. Turning around, he walked to his horse and lifted a small sack from the saddle before walking back towards her. “I do have only one question. I’m not going to be hunted down and shot because some family is missing their child, am I?”

Her eyes grew wide. “N-No,” she answered, shaking her head. “The mother is deceased.”

“Did you do the deed?”

“No!” she gasped, bulking at his words.

“Perfect.” He drawled. Reaching for her hand, he placed the sack into her palm.

Squeezing it in her hand it seemed light to her. “Is this the agreed amount?”

His eyes boldly raked over her, and a wicked laugh flowed from his lips. “How about I alert the authorities to a negro woman attempting to sell a white baby,” he threatened as he took an aggressive step closer to her. “Do you think they will take to kindly to that? It could be an interesting tale; don’t you think?”

Cold sweat trickled down her back, and she looked down at the tiny baby. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean no disrespect.” Hesitantly she lifted the baby higher until it rested in the stranger’s arms. She watched the man turn and walk back to his horse.

A lone tear slid down her cheek, and her hand rose to stifle a sob. “Wait!” she called out, taking a few steps towards him. “Where will you be taking it? W-Will it go to a proper family?”

He pulled himself up onto his horse and beamed down at her. “Does it matter?”

Her bottom lip quivered as a knot formed in her belly. “Yes.”

Grabbing the reins he angled the horse away from her. “Your job is done, and you have been paid. This child is no longer your concern.”

She clutched her stomach as she watched him ride away until he was out of sight. Then she ran into the darkness and fell to her knees. Her body convulsed and trembled in tortured agony. “Please forgive me. Please forgive me,” she mumbled, rocking her body until it collapsed.

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