Kimberly Nee - The McKenzie Brothers

Home > Other > Kimberly Nee - The McKenzie Brothers > Page 5
Kimberly Nee - The McKenzie Brothers Page 5

by Playing


  “What?”

  Drew smiled at her. “You heard me, Heather. Come with me. You can be my mistress in Brunswick just as easily as you can here in London.”

  “I cannot go to America! Are you mad?”

  “What is so mad about it?”

  She struggled to come up with a reason, waving a hand about as if it would help her think. Of course it was mad — stark raving mad, in fact. How could he think otherwise?

  Of course now that she’d blurted it out, she couldn’t think of a reason. What was to keep her in London? She had no family, her friends would no longer associate with her and the ton would no longer accept her. Life as an outcast awaited her when Drew left. Whereas in America…

  What would await her in America? She had no way of knowing. A fresh start, perhaps? A new life?

  Still, she had to be mad to even consider Drew’s offer. Didn’t she?

  He arched one brow and her cheeks burned. Finally, she gave him the best reason she could. “Because it is,” she replied with as much dignity as she could muster.

  “A perfect reason, to be sure,” he replied dryly, reaching for the midnight blue shirt draped over the foot of the bed. “I may not know much about the rules of your society, my lady. But I am fairly certain ladies of the peerage do not find their way to mistress auctions. I’m even more certain that other ladies of the peerage would look upon your situation with no little trouble. Do you have any idea what you’ve done, Miss Heather? In the eyes of London society, you are not exactly on par with the lords and ladies with whom you hope to mingle. Mistress and wives of earls and viscounts and dukes — ”

  “Dukes!” She clapped a hand over her mouth at her outburst.

  “Yes, dukes. There were more titles that I’d shake a stick at over at Coal’s. And more of them saw you. It’s fairly safe to say, you are already quite infamous. It was enough when you were only on the block. But when Coal announced your one asset…” He shrugged. “It didn’t trouble me to hear you were a virgin, as I will never deny nor confirm any relieving of your virginity. But, you should know, whether I touch you or not, your virginity is but a memory now as far as any ladies of the peerage are concerned. You are ruined. It’s only time before the invitations dry up. And once they do, they are gone. You will have to save the life of a duke’s wife or child to get back into societies’ graces, but you will never be considered marriageable.”

  Her shoulders sank. “I will be no better than a strumpet.” She looked up to frown at him. “I thank you for reminding me.”

  Drew sighed, closing the space between them. He brought his hands down onto her shoulders for a gentle squeeze. “It isn’t as if I’m taking you away from some wonderful life, Heather. Where are you going to go once I’m gone?”

  “I hadn’t really thought about it. I thought you’d be here a while longer.” A chill settled over her. She hadn’t given any thought as to what would become of her once Drew left England behind.

  “Well, I was supposed to be. If I had more time, I would see you set up in a house, with a stipend and all. I’m afraid I no longer have that kind of time.”

  His words surprised her. “You were going to do that for me?”

  He nodded, buttoning his shirt and tucking it into the waistband of his trousers. “Of course. That’s what a man does for his mistress. I’ve not the time to find a suitable residence, so this is my alternative. I do not wish to see you in the gutters, love, and that is where you will end up. That is, if you do not return to Coal’s.”

  She shuddered at the thought. “I would never go back there.”

  He shrugged. “Then it’s a perfect solution.”

  “Drew, you met me three days ago. And now you wish me to travel to America with you? It’s insane and you’re mad as a March hare for suggesting it.”

  “Of course it is. It all is. And so is spending thirty-five thousand pounds at an auction to buy a woman who doesn’t really know what she’s doing.” His boyish grin kept those words from stinging.

  Could this actually be happening? Could he truly want to bring her to America? Would she be a fool to trust him?

  There was nothing in London for her, save a return to Coal’s. She would much rather risk finding her own way in America than return to that horrid place. Perhaps she was being foolish, but what other options she did have?

  His grin unnerved her, as if he could read her mind. She wracked her brain, trying desperately to think of something to say. The best she could come up with was: “I suppose it is.”

  He chuckled. “Just a bit.”

  Embarrassment rushed through her. What would he tell his family when he returned home with her? What would they think of him? Or, for that matter, what would they think of her?

  She paused for a moment, trying to think of a tactful way to phrase the question. Before she could say anything, he’d moved away and began stowing things in his sea chest.

  “Besides,” he said. “This way my hard-earned money won’t go to waste.”

  His words held no malice, but brought forth the truth of the matter. Drew had bought her. The shame she’d thought she’d left at Coal’s flooded through her now. No matter how hard she tried to pretty it up, nothing changed.

  She had become his possession the moment he’d paid that outrageous amount to Coal.

  Perhaps he hadn’t meant it quite as she’d heard it, but there was no mistaking he was right. He owned her now. He was, in fact, her master.

  “I suppose I ought to begin packing as well,” she replied, trying unsuccessfully to keep the bitterness from her voice.

  “I will send Jameson to purchase a sea chest for you, Heather. That way — ” The words died on his lips and he frowned. “What is the matter?”

  “Nothing,” she replied, ducking her head and turning away. She felt like such a fool, reading far more into Drew’s intentions than she should have. There was no way she could ever tell him that. It sounded mad, even to her. He hardly knew her, never mind care for her. It was purely physical.

  He didn’t press the issue. Instead, he shrugged and straightened up, pulling on his frock coat. “I suppose we ought to go down before Mrs. Markham is pounding on the door again.”

  “Yes. I suppose we should.”

  He offered his arm. “Shall we?”

  Heather hesitated, but decided it was in her best interest to accept that proffered arm. If a master he wished to be, then she would do her damnedest to make certain to treat him as one.

  She couldn’t ignore the warmth seeping into her hand as it rested lightly on his forearm, but resisted the urge to squeeze the dense muscle packed beneath his skin, muscle she could feel even through his clothing. She cast a sidelong glance up at him, but said nothing as they left the room to go down to tea.

  Drew sensed her sudden coolness, but couldn’t imagine what the reason could be. She grew quiet, speaking only when spoken to, averting her eyes whenever he happened to look at her. Her brow was furrowed, as if something weighed heavily on her mind. Whatever might be troubling her, she kept to herself.

  He wondered if it had to do with leaving England. He didn’t know what had possessed him to invite her to go with him, but the words were out before he could stop them.

  He did not regret issuing the invitation. He wanted her to go with him, although he wasn’t exactly certain why. He didn’t keep mistresses. His habits were much more short-term. The shorter, the better. That was his motto.

  But there was something about Heather, something that pressed him, urged him to keep her close. He couldn’t simply sail off and leave her to fend for herself. Not when he knew where she would most likely end up.

  The very thought of her returning to Coal’s fired his blood. Anger coiled within the pit of his stomach any time he thought of another man laying a hand on Heather. He knew possessiveness made up a fair amount of the blood of a McKenzie male, but he couldn’t explain why he should feel it where she was concerned. As she’d pointed out, he’d only just met her. Ho
w could he feel possessive toward her in such a short time? It made no sense, but he could not deny it.

  Heather said nothing as they went into the drawing room, where Mrs. Markham had set out the tea. She prepared a cup with plenty of sugar and thick cream, and sat back in an elegant red leather wing chair to take a sip. She remained quiet, eyes downcast, as she nibbled at a scone.

  He sat across from her, scowling, his biscuit ignored on his plate.

  “What’s on your mind, Heather?” he finally asked, shoving his plate away in disgust.

  She looked up at him, her wide, dark eyes filled with what appeared to be innocence. “There is nothing on my mind, sir.”

  Her eyes were the loveliest he’d ever seen — deep, dark brown, as luminous as moonbeams and as fathomless as the ocean. A man could get lost looking into those pools.

  He cleared his throat. “I thought we agreed you were never to use the word sir in association with me?”

  “Of course. I apologize.”

  As her gaze ducked back to her plate, he fought to squelch his rising irritation. Whether she chose to admit it or not, there was something troubling her and he intended to get to the bottom of it.

  The sooner, the better. If possessiveness made up half his blood, impatience made up the other half.

  “Please, Heather. Do not apologize for every little transgression,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Show a little spirit.”

  “Of course.”

  He gritted his teeth. Something was going on beneath her chestnut curls and that something was going to drive him mad.

  A maid bustled into the room to clear away the dishes, hovering as she cleared away his place. He sighed, mentally rolling his eyes over the maid’s attentions. Flattering, but tiresome just the same. He waved her away and said to Heather, “So, did you enjoy shopping?”

  She nodded. “I did.”

  “I take it Jameson kept a watchful eye over you?”

  “He did.”

  This was becoming tedious. “You are allowed more than two words per sentence, Heather.”

  His scolding worked. Color flared in her cheeks, only instead of firing back at him as he’d hoped she would, she backed down. “I’m sorry.”

  It would have been amusing if it wasn’t so damned frustrating. Resting an elbow on the table between them, he leaned toward her. “Am I boring you, love?”

  That got a reaction. Her head jerked up, her gaze meeting his, and he was happy to see a spark of annoyance in them. “Of course not.”

  “Ah, three words. It’s a small improvement, but an improvement just the same. Now please, for the love of God, will you speak to me?”

  “As you wish.” She set down her scone to fold both hands in her lap. “What is it you wish to discuss?”

  “This is ridiculous.” He shoved up from his chair and moved to stand before her. “Aren’t you even the slightest bit curious about America? About Brunswick? About anything?”

  She pressed her lips together, obviously mulling over his words. It seemed as if she was on the verge of asking him something. Finally, she inhaled deeply and blurted, “It isn’t my place to question your wishes.”

  “What?”

  Her chin up, she held his stare. “I said, it’s not my place to question your wishes. I suppose I will find out all about America once we arrive there.”

  At last, he was getting somewhere. “Heather, if you wish to question anything, please do so. Why do you think otherwise?”

  “I think that should be quite clear.”

  “Well, it isn’t.” Drew shook his head. “I am a bit confused as to this sudden change. What brought it on?”

  She shrugged. “It’s how things should be.”

  “How things should be, eh? Very well, I suppose it would be best to leave things alone then.”

  “As you wish.”

  This was wearing on his nerves; he had no desire to keep playing games. “That is what I wish. I need pay a visit to the harbor to see that preparations are underway to set sail as soon as possible.”

  “Very well.”

  “I expect to be back in time for supper. Please dress accordingly.”

  “As I did last night, when you did not return?”

  He almost smiled at the hint of temper poking through her sudden reserve. “It was unavoidable. Besides, you said it wasn’t your place to question? Didn’t you say that? So, consider yourself lucky I don’t request you to await me in my cabin stark naked.”

  His amber eyes locked with hers and he felt the jolt crackle through him. Her flush returned, adorably creeping its way up along her neck. It stained her cheeks, disappeared into her hairline to set entire her face aglow with a beautiful blush. He chuckled as she dropped her gaze to the tabletop. “Of course.”

  Drew left it at that, striding from the room. He slammed out of the townhouse, his voice sharp as he snapped, “Eagleton’s office,” to the driver and threw himself into the carriage.

  He leaned back, eyes closed, as he replayed the scene in the drawing room. What the devil was going on? Which was the true Heather Morgan? The fiery spirit who’d returned his kisses with such passion or the mealy milquetoast with whom he’d just shared tea?

  He tried to think of any reason to explain her sudden change of character. It made sense that night at Coal’s, for he was certain she’d been instructed to accept whatever orders she might be given by the man paying for her. It didn’t make sense now, at least not to him. He had no aversion to the occasional disagreement, no aversion to her speaking her mind.

  He smiled as he thought about his mother, Rebecca, and his younger sisters. Emma, the older of the two girls, was married now, and the mother of a daughter herself. It would be nice to see them again. He had missed his family during his absence, for they were a close-knit group.

  “Well, we’ll be there soon enough,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Although, I do not relish the questions Heather’s presence will bring. I haven’t a clue how I’m going to explain her presence here, with me.”

  How the devil would he explain her?

  His family was no stranger to scandal. After all, scandal was what landed Emma her husband. But this was different. He had no idea how they would react should they learn how he’d met Heather in the first place. Drew didn’t think his father or Garrett would be overly troubled.

  At least, he hoped not.

  He’d worry about that when the time came. He had more pressing matters at hand and one of them concerned one greedy harbormaster and a restless crew. He needed to settle up with the former and round up the latter, then he could set sail for home.

  Chapter Nine

  The next two days were a blur of activity as Heather’s time in London drew to a bittersweet close. Anticipation mingled with regret at the thought of leaving her home, but she tried not to dwell on it.

  Her spat with Drew had gone by the wayside since he was so busy preparing his ship for their return to America. She saw little of him during those two days, but when their paths crossed, at least he smiled, or had kind words for her. These filled her with a sense of relief. At least their quarrel changed nothing.

  Finally, it was her last day in London. It was a gray, misty morning and it didn’t take long for her to finish what little packing she had to do.

  Drew returned at noon and told her they would be leaving with the evening tide. The entire staff was busy stowing the last of his trunks, making certain he left nothing behind, and getting Heather’s trunk tucked in with the others.

  When it was time to leave, Heather said a quick goodbye to the maids she barely knew and to the housekeeper who still radiated hostility. She lingered over Jameson only, giving the older man a warm embrace that clearly moved him.

  “Take care of yourself,” he whispered, giving her a squeeze. “Don’t let that boy push you around any.”

  I won’t,” she told him, stepping back and blinking back tears. She would miss the kindly old man.

 
“I tease you. I’ve known that boy for several years now and his heart is always in the right place. Just take care to watch his temper. It’s fierce, but then, most of the passionate ones are. He’s a good man, Captain McKenzie is. A good man. He will take care of you. Good care of you.”

  Heather wasn’t certain how to respond. She was quite sure the man had no idea how she came to be in Drew’s company, and she wasn’t about to enlighten him.

  Drew came into the front hall. Ever the gentleman, he had dressed for the trip to the harbor in black trousers and dove gray shirt, complete with cravat and a sapphire blue frock coat. “Are you ready then?”

  She nodded. “I am.”

  “Let us get moving, shall we?” He offered his hand to Jameson. “Take care of yourself, Jamie. Watch out for the ladies. They’re nothing but trouble.”

  Jameson gave Drew a warm smile. “Of course. I might warn you of the same, sir.”

  Drew gave Heather a roguish smile. “Don’t you always?”

  “Don’t worry, sir. Lord Sheffield will be home soon to keep me in line.”

  “Tell Sheffield I’ll catch him on my next trip through.”

  “Of course, sir. Safe voyage and Godspeed.”

  Drew offered Heather his arm. “Shall we?”

  She accepted and out they went to meet the waiting carriage. He helped her in, and as she settled back against the cushion, she couldn’t help but wonder how soon he planned on returning to England.

  There was no chance to ask him however, for he settled in beside her and said, “You are certain you have everything?”

  “I didn’t have all that much to begin with.”

  “Ah, I forgot to tell you, didn’t I? Jameson made a trip to Madam Cartwright’s this morning while you were still asleep. There are two chests tucked safely into the captain’s cabin of the Triton. You will have plenty once we are on board.”

  She was touched that he remembered the wardrobe, but surprised that the seamstress could have everything ready so quickly. “How is that possible?”

  He stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles. “Gold is a powerful persuader.”

 

‹ Prev