by Playing
As she spoke, she smoothed a hand over her lap, pushing out the few wrinkles in the muslin skirt. Drew crouched before her, a grin playing at his lips. “Is that so?”
Biting the inside of her lip, she nodded. “Yes.”
She wanted so much to blurt out how she felt about him, but couldn’t make herself form the words. They seemed to simple, so easy, but her voice died and the words faded before they could even reach her lips.
The woods were thick on either side of the river and, in the distance, came the crackle and crush of something picking its way through the foliage. Then, a doe ambled from the stand of pines on the far side of the water, ignoring them as she made her way to the water’s edge and lowered her graceful head.
Heather breathed deeply, then smiled. “I like Brunswick already. I have a — a fresh start here. No one knows of my past, and I can keep it that way.”
With a grunt, Drew shifted to sit beside her on the trunk. “We can create a new past for you, if you’d like.”
“Only if you make me a princess.” She nudged him with a teasing elbow.
“Oh, absolutely.”
She held his gaze, then gave into the urge to lean her head against his shoulder. This was so perfect, so right. “What happens now?”
A kiss pressed into the top of her head. “I have to make my way to Stonebridge before much longer. Someone’s bound to see the Triton soon and word will get back to my family.”
Although she expected him to say the words, his answer still left her heartsick. “You’re leaving?”
“Heather, I have no choice.” He rose to dress, slipping into his pale green silk shirt. “As much I would like to stay here, hidden in the woods, I can’t.”
“Of course. Your family would like to see you, I’m certain.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “I am not as certain as you, love. They just might show me the door. Perhaps I’ll pay Garrett a visit first and take him with me for protection.”
She didn’t say anything, afraid she’d blurt out how she wished she could go with him, wished she didn’t have to hide out at Christina’s. Things should have been different, would have been different, if her father had not ruined everything.
Heather stared at the doe. The animal’s ears twitched; she knew she was being watched. She slowly lifted her head, then turned to amble back the way she came. Tree branches folded back to swallow the doe as if she never existed. “Of course.”
Drew caught her under the chin with a forefinger. “I will be back. As soon as I make certain I am not about to be disowned, you will be accompanying me to Stonebridge.”
The sadness abated. “I will?”
“Of course, love. Do you think I am going to keep you hidden away out here in the woods forever?” A smile played at his lips as he said, “I keep telling you, I don’t care where we met and I have no intention of keeping you a secret.”
“But where we met does matter,” she replied, her voice tinged with doubt. “I’d wager your family will care, even if you don’t. I can’t imagine they wished you to bring a — ”
“If you so much as whisper the word whore, I promise you I’ll take a switch to your backside, my lady,” Drew growled, frowning at her. “Do you understand? I do not ever — and I do mean ever — want to hear that word in conjunction with your name for the rest of my days. Is that clear?”
A glimmer of hope shone through the fog of sadness enveloping her heart. “Yes, Drew.”
“Good.” He rose from the tree trunk, and pulled her up alongside him. They made their way back to Christina’s, where, on the front porch, he brushed her lips with a quick kiss. “I’ll be back. I promise.”
They parted and she stood there, watching as he made his way down to the carriage, still waiting patiently at the top of the drive. He climbed in and the horses clopped down the drive.
Although savory aromas wafted out from Christina’s kitchen, Heather wasn’t the least bit hungry. Rather, the sadness seeping into her displaced everything else and made the thought of food thoroughly unappealing. Going inside was equally unappealing, but where else could she go?
The dust settled in the drive, the sounds of horse and carriage dying in the distance, and the silence that descended in its place was the loudest, thickest silence she’d ever heard.
She hated being there, and wished more than ever she had met him at a ball or a garden party. Perhaps then she would be beside him in that carriage, instead of being squired away to the woods, where he wouldn’t have to face any uncomfortable questions about her. More than anything, she wished she had never set foot in Coal’s.
“No, that is not true,” she whispered as her throat tightened and tears stung her eyes. “I am forever grateful for that horrid place. If nothing else, I met Drew there and fell in love with him. I only wish I had the nerve to tell him that. Perhaps then there might be a future for us.”
Her skirts rustled as she sank onto the top step and stared into the darkness. The velvety blackness reminded her of those nights at sea, when there was nothing around but miles of black water. Only then, at least she knew she wasn’t alone.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Miss Morgan?”
She rolled over, blinking the sleep out of her eyes as she lifted her head. Jeremy was standing in the doorway. “Yes?”
“I came to see if you were feeling better? Perhaps you’d like that visit into town now?”
“What time is it?”
“Nearly half-past one.”
Her stomach clenched. She had not seen Drew in over sixteen hours. Now she was perturbed. The nap did little to ease her roiling stomach, the nausea worsening as she sat up. “No, thank you, Mr. Allen. I still don’t feel quite right.”
He stepped into the room. “Please, call me Jeremy. I find this formality a bit forced.”
She reached up to rub her tired eyes. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just lie here a bit longer.”
He crossed over to sit on the edge of the bed. “I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but you look peaked.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be fine in a day or two.”
“You aren’t still worried about what Drew might be doing, are you?”
“Of course not,” she replied with an easiness she wished she felt.
He smiled. “Drew is a lucky fellow.”
She shifted uneasily, twisting the sheet between unsettled fingers. “Thank you.”
“If I was him, I’d never let you out of my sight.”
Her unease worsened. “Mr. Allen, please — ”
“Jeremy.” His voice dropped to a low, throaty whisper as he brought a hand up to caress her cheek.
She pulled back. “No, Mr. Allen. You must not do this.”
“Drew is a fool if he is out dallying with some bar wench, as he is wont to do on occasion. You are far lovelier than any female in the whole of Brunswick.”
He leaned toward her and she recoiled, scooting back to the far side of the bed, until she smacked up against the wall. She tried to duck, but wasn’t fast enough as he caught her face in his hands and his lips seized hers.
Her back snapped straight and her fingers curled about his wrists as she tried to break his hold. She fought to turn away, but he was insistent on kissing her, trying to force his tongue between her clamped, still lips and clenched teeth. Memories of Henry’s attack erupted and panic swelled. This time, however, Drew was not there to rescue her.
Drew patted Samson’s neck. “Feels good to be running again, doesn’t it, fella?”
The black gelding nickered, his ears twitching as Drew pulled him up to a walk. He threw back his head and laughed. Everything amused him now. The sun shone brighter. The flowers smelled sweeter. Everything was much brighter, more vibrant.
The day was young and he was on his way to Christina’s, a smile playing at his lips as he urged Samson into another trot. His family had not disowned him after all, but welcomed him back into the fold. Their reunion was a
happy one, but now he was anxious to return to Heather, to pull her into his arms. He slowed Samson down, walking him the last half mile to Christina Anderson’s house where he dismounted, looped Samson’s reins about the front porch railing, and made his way inside.
The first floor was empty, so he mounted the steps, prepared to burst into Heather’s room and surprise her.
He paused outside her closed door. Voices came from within and a knot twisted in his stomach. One was Heather’s voice, of course. It was the other that made his throat squeeze shut.
The other voice belonged to Jeremy.
He threw the door open, sending it slamming into the wall with enough force that the door handle went through the wall. “What the hell?”
Jeremy jumped away, falling off the bed with a crash. That didn’t deter Drew, who swooped down to grab him by his shirtfront. His shoulder caught the bedside table and a small china lamp smashed to the floor as Jeremy sputtered, “Drew, I — ”
“Shut up, Jer.” Drew lifted him easily, jerked him clear off his feet to hurl him toward the doorway.
A painting fell from the wall beside the door, hitting the floor with a dull thud, the heavy-looking frame splitting from the force. Heather scrambled from the bed, reaching for, and missing, Drew’s shoulder. “Drew! Wait! Stop!”
He ignored her, closing the space between him and Jeremy again. Fury bounced around his gut like a spiked ball, sending scorching flares up with each bounce. Jeremy held up a hand. “Drew, please…I promise you…I won’t touch her again.”
Drew barely heard him over the rage in his brain. Linen crushed softly in his fist as he snatched Jeremy’s shirtfront. In a single motion, he lifted Jeremy from the floor, and flung him into the corridor beyond. Jeremy hit the polished boards with a dull thud and slid with a soft squeak. He stared, wild-eyed, as if expecting Drew to attack again. Drew didn’t miss the look of relief that flittered across Jeremy’s face as Drew slammed the door on him.
The resounding bang did nothing to alleviate the boiling in his gut. That churning worsened as he rounded on Heather. “You’re all alike, aren’t you? Each and every last one of you. Perhaps I ought to start treating women the way Henry does. I suppose that way, I won’t ever be the fool again.”
Her eyes were glassy, almost perfectly round, and she stared at him as if he was a stranger. “What are you talking about?”
Struggling to keep calm, to keep the fire threatening to consume him at bay, he growled, “Perhaps I should have stayed away a bit longer? Then you could have bedded him completely.”
She gasped, her jaw going slack even as scarlet rushed up toward her mussed hair. “How could you say something so — so horrid? I’ve done nothing wrong! I was here — minding my own business — and he came in — ”
“Of course. And I fell for it the first time, as well as nearly killing one of my crewmen in the process.”
“Fell for it? There is nothing to fall for, Drew. I’m telling you — ”
“That men simply attack you at every turn?” Red-hot rage bubbled through his veins. “I find that hard to believe. No woman is that irresistible.”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “I never said that — ”
“You don’t have to. Your actions say a mouthful.”
The color in her cheeks darkened. “I’ve no idea what this is about, Drew, but you are being an ass! I was simply up here, minding my own business, taking a nap. I’ve been feeling poorly. You had yet to return. I woke from my nap to find Jeremy standing there in the doorway. Then he kissed me.”
“Oh, from the doorway?”
“No, you fool!” she snapped. “He and I were talking, and then he jumped on me. I tried to push him away, but I couldn’t.”
“Of course not,” he sneered.
“Oh, this is madness! You are angry at me for something one of your friends attempted?”
“Is it?”
The blood drained from her face now, leaving it ashen. “How could you?” Her voice became a broken whisper. “How could you?”
“By what I see.” His voice was flat. It matched how he felt — flat and lifeless. The world had gone gray now, all color sucked out when he threw open that bedroom door.
She threw her hands into the air. “You did not see what you think you did! You are only too stubborn to admit you’re wrong.”
He shook his head. “No. I am seeing very clearly now. And I should thank you, since you’ve kept me from making the biggest mistake of my life.”
“The biggest mistake? I thought Bridget was the biggest mistake?”
The name hit him like a punch in the gut. “What about Bridget?”
“You heard me. I thought she was the biggest mistake?”
“What are you talking about? She has nothing to do with this.”
“And again you won’t discuss her! You’re angry at me for bringing up her name. I know she was your fiancée, so I can only assume you are still in love with her.”
“In love with — just how, pray tell, do you know so much about her? Who have you spoken to about it?”
“I’ve spoken to no one.”
“I’ve never mentioned her by name, so someone else obviously has.”
“That does not matter now, does it? Tell me, is she the one you spent last evening with?”
He threw up his hands. “I find you in the arms of another man, and yet you accuse me of dallying with another? Not only that, you have the utter gall to be upset? You’ve developed a bit of audacity, haven’t you?”
“Of course I’m upset! And I was not in his arms, you bloody dolt! I was fighting to get out of them!”
“If that is your story — ”
“That is not a story! That is a fact and if you are too bull-headed to see that, then perhaps you should just leave now! Before it’s too late!”
His anger spilled over in a scorching rush he could no longer hold back. “It’s already too late, Heather. I rue the day I ever asked you to accompany me back here!”
“And I rue the day I ever said yes!” she shrieked, swiping a china knickknack from the bedside table to hurl at him.
She missed and the delicate china smashed into the wall, spraying china shards in all directions.
Drew didn’t say a word, but turned and stalked from the room. He had enough. If he stayed any longer, he’d do something he’d really regret. And as he swung up onto Samson’s back, he knew it was too late.
He already regretted his actions.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Heather spent the next week secluded in her room at Christina’s, ignoring both Christina and Jeremy as they took turns banging on the locked door. She remained by the window, hoping to see Drew racing up on his black horse. After a week, she gave up hope.
She sighed, watching the rain sluice down the rippled windowpane. “I suppose that is that,” she murmured, turning away from the window. “I’ve no idea what I am going to do. I’ve no money, no way to return home.”
She wasn’t too surprised that she viewed her dilemma with such calmness. After all, this wasn’t her most pressing trouble. She’d finally discovered the cause of her never-ending nausea.
She was pregnant.
At first, when she’d calculated her dates and realized she’d skipped the last month, she denied it. Her sickness was from readjusting to life on land, or perhaps from the strange foods she arrived in America. Finally, there was nothing left to do but admit the inevitable.
She was going to bear Drew’s child.
The revelation brought tears to her eyes but surprisingly, they were not tears of regret. If anything, her condition s made her feel closer to him, even though she knew he was not coming back.
She missed him terribly. It was a phantom pain, constantly there, always aching and with no relief forthcoming. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him as he was that last night she’d spent with him.
Now, as she sat by the window, she pressed her fingertips to her lips, remembering the joy of
his kisses. She loved him. She missed him. She was afraid she’d never see him again.
A gentle hand rapped on the door. “Heather? Please, open the door.”
She sighed, rising and crossing over to twist the key. “Yes?”
Christina’s crystal blue eyes filled with concern. “Won’t you please come into town with me? You need to get out of this room, even if only for a short while.”
“I don’t need anything in town,” she replied dully.
“Perhaps we can find Drew and you two can talk this out.”
“There is nothing for us to discuss,” Heather said, shaking her head.
“Of course there is. Heather, this is madness. You need to talk to him.”
She sighed softly, shaking her head. “No. I don’t, Christina. He made himself quite clear. He has nothing left to say to me.”
Christina moved to sit on the edge of the neatly made bed. “Heather, I know I have not known you that long. I’d wager you view me as something of a rival, do you not?”
Heather sighed. What did she have to lose? She’d already lost the most important thing to her. What was left? “Yes. I suppose I do, in a way.”
Christina gave her a knowing smile, smoothing a hand over the flowered chintz quilt covering the bed. “I thought as much. I would most likely feel the same. But, I can assure you, I am no such thing. Drew and I share a history, that is true, but now it’s only friendship and that’ll not change. We were young and impulsive and quickly learned we were much better suited as friends.”
Christina’s admission eased her mind, but not nearly enough. She pulled out the vanity bench, a lovely embroidered tapestry thickly stuffed and quite comfortable to sit upon. “You don’t understand, Christina. He does not want me.”
“Of course he does! What on earth would make you think otherwise?” She looked shocked. “Anyone would have to be an utter fool to suggest something so ludicrous.”
Heather remembered his heated words, the way he stormed out of the house in a fury. “No. You did not see him. It’s too late. Those were his exact words. He despises me now.”
“Well, I find that hard to believe. What could possibly have happened to make him turn in such a manner?”