Kimberly Nee - The McKenzie Brothers

by Playing

  “Of course, Captain McKenzie.”

  He sighed, but a smile played along the corners of his mouth. “Drew.”

  “Drew.” It still felt so…intimate…using his given name. Perhaps one day it wouldn’t, but for now —

  And with that, he left her to her thoughts. She dressed in a simple gown of pale blue muslin. For some reason, she thought she should send her father word that all was well, but then she thought better of it. What did he care? It was his fault she was there, and once his debt was forgiven, he’d washed his hands of her as well. She’d served her purpose.

  No. She’d not think about him. Not any longer. As far as she was concerned, he was as dead as her mother.

  Shortly after breakfast Mrs. Cartwright arrived, armed to the teeth with patterns and fabric selections. It took most of the afternoon, but by the time Heather finished, she’d selected four gowns. Two were silk, one in robin’s egg blue and one in lavender. The other was a pale peach muslin day dress. The last was an elegant evening gown of gold velvet with a shimmering gold satin skirt.

  When the seamstress finally left, Heather summoned one of the maids to draw her a bath. She soaked until the rose-scented water cooled and then dressed for Drew’s arrival in the prettier of the two gowns she owned — the deep jade silk with silver piping and embroidery along the bodice.

  She stood before the mirror in the far corner of Drew’s room, fussing with her hair as she tried to arrange it in a complicated series of soft chestnut curls. She wanted to look as lovely as possible when he returned. She wasn’t going to give him any reason to regret the amount of money he’d spent.

  At seven o’clock, while she finished her toilette, there came a soft knock at the door. She hurried over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open.

  Drew smiled at her from over the threshold. “Good evening, Heather.”

  She bobbed her head, stepping aside to allow him passage. “And a good evening to you as well.”

  “Mrs. Markham said you spent most of the day with Miss Cartwright.”

  “I did. And I ordered four gowns.”

  “Only four?” Drew shook his head. “No, that will hardly do. You see, I fully intend to parade you about town over the next six weeks.”

  “Do you now?”

  He grinned. “Oh, absolutely. Why wouldn’t I? if you look even a fraction as lovely as you do now, I will be the envy of every man in London.”

  Heather shook her head and pleasant warmth flushed through her. “I think that might be an exaggeration, Captain.”

  “Drew. I look forward to watching all those jaws drop.” He reached for his cravat, adding, “Tell me, will you look down on me if I remove this? It’s driving me mad.”

  “Not at all.”

  He quickly unwound the neck cloth, leaving it to hang limply. “I never liked these things.”

  “Is this acceptable for supper?” she asked, smoothing a hand down the length of her skirt.

  He gave her a long up-and-down look, slipping the cravat from his neck and carefully refolding it. “Most acceptable, Heather. You look beautiful.”

  A warm flush filled her and she couldn’t help but smile. “I thank you.”

  He tossed the cravat onto the dressing table, pausing before the mirror to rake his fingers through his hair before turning to offer her his arm. “Shall we go down?”

  She slipped her arm through his, marveling at the solid swell of muscle coiled about his forearm. “Absolutely.”

  Chapter Five

  She found Drew in the dining room, already seated, sipping a glass of wine. He peered over the rim of the goblet in his hand, then lowered the crystal to rise from his chair. “I hope you’re hungry. Cook outdid herself.”

  “I am, although I’m not certain I should admit to such a thing.” She gazed down at the table. It was long enough to easily seat fifteen people, but Mrs. Markham managed to make it seem intimate.

  Slender white tapers flickered in the polished silver candelabra in the center of the table and cast dancing shadows along the pale blue walls. The crystal goblets and chandelier caught the reflections, sparkling brightly. The scent of fresh flowers picked that afternoon from Sheffield’s gardens filled the room with sweet perfume.

  He skirted the table to draw her chair back and, no sooner did she sit, then the maids served their meal. Heather sipped her wine, staring down at the numerous forks lined beside her plate. It had been a long time since she’d seen so much silver alongside her plate. Hopefully she’d remember which was used for what part of the meal.

  Drew smiled as he sliced off a bite. “So, tell me a bit about yourself, Heather.”

  “There is blessed little to tell, I’m afraid.”

  “So tell me what there is.” He winked and lifted his fork to stab at the duck on his plate.

  The last thing she wanted to do was go into the sorry, twisted story of how she came to be at Coal’s. It was a truth she didn’t want to admit, how her own father sold her to save himself.

  His voice cut through her reverie. “Is the duck not to your liking? You’ve barely touched it.”

  She glanced down at her plate. He was right; she’d taken two bites, although the meat melted on her tongue in a burst of orange and sage. “Oh, no. It’s quite good, actually.”

  “A bit nervous, are you?”

  “Nervous?” She flinched as her voice cracked, and she poked at another morsel of duck with her fork. Oh, bloody hell.

  “About what is to come later.”

  “Oh.” Her fingers loosened, and the fork clattered to her plate. “That.”

  He dabbed at his lips with a snowy linen napkin. “You’ve nothing to fear, Heather. Trust me. I’ve yet to turn a woman to stone.”

  “Oh, now that would be silly.”

  “And yet you blush. If you wish, we do not have to do anything tonight. We can wait until you are a bit more settled,” Drew said, setting down his silverware.

  “You’d not mind?”

  “I can wait a few more evenings.” Although his voice was mild, she didn’t miss the reluctance. She couldn’t fault him. He certainly didn’t part with thirty-five thousand pounds to escort her to the opera.

  Sally told her a sure way to impress a man was to show interest in him, so she forced a smile to her lips. “Tell me, Captain, are you in London on business alone?”

  His long, tapering fingers stroked the stem of his wine goblet. “Not entirely, no. I enjoy Europe. There are some beautiful cities to visit, both here and on the Continent.”

  Envy pricked at her insides. She dreamed of traveling, of venturing far beyond London. “I went to Glasgow once, to visit my father’s family. It’s so wild up there, so open. Such a far cry from London.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Have you been?”

  He shook his head. “No. The wild is not exactly where my interests lie. I prefer the bustle of the cities. If I wanted wild, I’d stay in America.”

  “I imagine that is quite the wilderness, indeed. I’ve never been to America, but I imagine it to be overrun with savages.”

  “Oh, hardly. Quite civilized. In fact, we even have cities over there, and they aren’t much different than London. You would be amazed.”

  Perhaps he hadn’t meant to be so sharp, but she felt upbraided. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

  “No. I’m the one who should apologize. I should not get so defensive. I suppose that beastly American ideal bothers me more than I let on.” The irritation in his voice melted away. “Shall we finish? I understand the cook prepared apple tarts for dessert.”

  The cook had baked wonderful apple tarts and Drew was quite content as he sipped a glass of port. Even Heather seemed more at ease. Perhaps she looked forward to the remainder of the evening as much as he did.

  A smile pulled at his lips. When she finished her port, he’d whisk her above, peel her gown from her body, and slowly, teasingly, kiss her —

  “Excuse me, Captain McKenzi
e?”

  Drew turned to see Mrs. Markham standing in the doorway. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Stewart is here to see you. He says it’s urgent.”

  “Adam is here?” Drew was surprised. Adam Stewart was another Eagleton partner, although he preferred America to the oceans. He rarely sailed these days, so his arrival could mean he was there to deliver bad news.

  “Yes, sir. I asked him to wait in the drawing room.”

  Drew turned to Heather, pushing his chair away from the table. “If you will excuse me.”

  She didn’t look very happy, but nodded just the same. “Of course.”

  He followed the sour-faced housekeeper from the dining room, hurrying toward the drawing room.

  Adam Stewart was pacing the small, square room, pulling a hand relentlessly through his sandy blond hair. He looked up just as Drew stepped into the room, his gray-blue eyes troubled.

  “Adam what are you doing in London?” Drew asked, not bothering with greetings. “Has something happened back home?”

  Adam gave him a reassuring smile. “No. Everything is fine, Drew. I know my appearance is a bit of a surprise, but all is well. Garrett sent me abroad to check on things at the offices here. I think he had an inkling that you were here as well. Since no one has heard from you in nearly a year — well, I think you can figure that out for yourself.” He halted his relentless pacing. “It’s a good thing I popped into the office. There is a problem with one of the shipments.”

  Drew groaned. “Don’t even tell me Dixon is haggling over prices again.”

  “I see you’ve had this problem with him before.”

  Albert Dixon was determined to be the greatest thorn in Drew’s side. Dixon’s scheme was to quote one price for a cargo but then attempt to inflate it until it bordered on the obscene. Should the shipper not act quickly enough, Dixon would sell it to another but stick the first with the forfeiture charge. Drew spent more time than he cared to recall haggling with the merchant. Eagleton did a great deal of business with Dixon Unlimited, so he’d never be rid of the man.

  He sighed sharply, knowing he had no choice but to go down to the harbor now, even at this late hour. It was the last thing he wished to do. Given the choice between haggling with a greedy merchant or holding a beautiful woman in his arms, the choice wasn’t difficult.

  He couldn’t contain his impatient sigh. “I am in the middle of something.”

  “I’ve no authority in the matter, Drew. You know that. Nor do I want the authority. I’ve dealt with Dixon far too often in the past. Since you are here, it’s your headache.”

  “A little revenge for my supposed desertion, Adam?”

  “Your family is worried about you,” he replied simply.

  Drew supposed he was right, but that didn’t make the pill any easier to swallow. “Very well. It’s my headache, as you say, so I shall deal with it at once.”

  “I’ve a carriage waiting. I’ll go with you.”

  “Excuse me a moment. There is something I need to take care of before I leave.”

  Drew returned to the dining room, where Heather looked up as he entered, a smile lifting the corners of her lips.

  “I’m afraid I am needed at the harbor. There is a problem with a cargo I’ve been trying to secure.”

  “Nothing serious, I hope.”

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” he assured her, crouching down beside her chair. “But, I am afraid I’ll most likely be coming in late. Don’t wait up. If you need anything, inform Mrs. Markham.”

  Disappointment darkened her eyes, but she nodded. “Of course.”

  He leaned down to plant a light kiss atop her head. “Tomorrow we shall dine in peace.”

  “Of course.”

  With that, he turned heel and strode from the room, the soles of his gleaming Hessians thumping soundly against the carpet.

  Adam was waiting for him in the carriage out in front of the town house. “I am going to break that weasel’s neck,” Drew growled, settling in beside him. “Interrupting a man’s evening meal like this over a worn-out matter.”

  Adam’s eyes glittered in the semi-darkness. “Yes, well, it’s all part and parcel with the responsibility of running Eagleton.”

  “Don’t even start, Adam. I am not a boy. I do not need to report back to my brother at every turn.”

  “Perhaps not, but is it too much to ask that you at least let him know you are alive?”

  Drew sighed, stretching his legs out before him, crossing his ankles. “Let’s not speak of it now, Adam. Give me the news from home instead.”

  “There is blessed little to report, I’m afraid. I was in Bridgeport over the winter. Keely is tottering around now. Speaks actual words, although they are garbled. Emma and Julian are well, planning to come down to Brunswick for a visit in July. Your brother is the same — although he is determined to sail over here himself and scour London for you. Fortunately, Miss Katherine has managed to rein him in and keep him in New Jersey. And Mary is Mary. Still most concerned with young men and fancy dresses.”

  “It’s nice to know some things never change.” Drew leaned his head back against the seat cushion. “Make certain to tell everyone I am alive and well and in one piece.”

  “Might I tell them when you are planning to return?”

  Drew decided it would be worth telling if it kept Garrett from storming into London in a temper, looking for his errant brother. “Yes, Adam. Tell them I’ll be home in the fall. I plan on sailing out in a few weeks.”

  Adam looked pleased. “Terrific. Then I have nothing to fear about returning myself. Your father is getting more difficult by the day.” He gave Drew a knowing grin. “I cannot say for certain, but I believe your mother has banned him from their bedroom because he’s been such an ogre these past few weeks.”

  Drew thought about his mother and felt a slight pang of guilt. “Well, then most definitely tell her. I don’t wish her to worry any more than she has to.”

  The salty breeze wafting through the window let Drew know they’d reached the harbor. He stifled a sigh as the carriage rocked to a halt and prepared to do battle with the greedy merchant and his overpriced wares.

  Chapter Six

  Heather slowly spread blackberry jam on her toast, trying not think about where Drew might be.

  It was funny. When he’d agreed to give her time to settle in, she’d felt relieved for a moment, then disappointed. This was as far as she would go in life now. She would forever be relegated to the status of mistress. Still, being Drew’s mistress had to be better than where she’d been a little over twenty-four hours earlier. Far better indeed.

  Besides, how bad could it be, being his mistress? He was handsome, he was desirable and he was a gentleman in every sense of the word. He was in London alone, but did a wife await his return back in America?

  She nibbled at her toast and smiled. She could still see him, standing before her, partially undressed, giving her a hint of the masculinity that lay beneath the fine clothing. Every time that image sprang forth, butterflies awoke in her belly.

  These were not nervous butterflies. Rather, they were the same as the ones she would feel as a child when her birthday drew near and she knew a gift was forthcoming. The anticipation of being in Drew’s arms elicited that kind of flutter. She was nervous, true, but couldn’t help her smile just the same. She looked forward to more kissing. Even with her limited kissing experience, she enjoyed the feel of his lips on hers.

  She sat there long after she finished her toast, staring out the window, lost in her thoughts.

  “You’re still eating, Miss Morgan?”

  Heather jumped at Mrs. Markham’s unexpected question. Only crumbs remained on her plate, yet she didn’t recall eating a bite. “Have I been here long?”

  “Nearly an hour.” Mrs. Markham bustled about, stacking dishes on trays.

  “I hadn’t realized how much time passed.” Heather squinted at the clock on the mantel. “Has Captain McKenzie returned?”


  “Not yet.” Ellen Markham’s voice was clipped as she rang the delicate china bell in the center of the table. Two maids hurried into the room and finished clearing the table and sideboard.

  Mrs. Markham turned to her. “If it pleases you, Miss, I’ve arranged for you to spend the day shopping in Town. Captain McKenzie has accounts set up with most of the merchants. I was told to tell you that you are welcome to make use of them.”

  “Shopping?”

  “Aye. Apparently Captain McKenzie is not pleased with the four gowns you selected yesterday. I received a very unpleasant scolding because you did not select more. I have been given a list of items he feels you need.”

  Heather accepted the sheet of paper from the housekeeper. She might have gone too far in the number of gowns she’d selected, not wanting to take advantage of his generosity. Instead, she’d given the housekeeper yet another reason to dislike her. “I’m sorry you were blamed, Mrs. Markham. I didn’t feel right, ordering more than that.”

  The housekeeper did not answer, but sniffed and stalked out of the room. Heather swallowed the sour reply on her lips. It wouldn’t do to shout it after her, and it wouldn’t make Mrs. Markham respect her, either. That wasn’t about to change.

  Pushing Mrs. Markham from her mind, Heather unfolded the list and set it down on the lacy tablecloth.

  “That woman would not last a week in my house.” She glanced down at the list and gasped at the number of items.

  She rubbed her forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache. Still, she didn’t want to spend the entire day alone with only the stern-faced Mrs. Markham for company, so she tried to forget the pain. Perhaps shopping would make it disappear entirely.

  With that, she went in search of a light wrap, her bonnet, reticule and gloves. Mrs. Markham appeared in the doorway of Drew’s bedroom as if summoned. “Jameson will accompany you wherever you wish to go, Miss. Tea will be served at half-past three, so try to be back by then.”

  “I will do my best.” Heather pulled on her gloves, brushed by the housekeeper and made her way downstairs.

  Jameson gave her a pleasant smile, bending at the waist. “Good afternoon, Miss Morgan. Feel up to a bit of shopping?”