Kimberly Nee - The McKenzie Brothers

by Playing

  “You’ve yet to say it at all, sweetheart,” he murmured teasingly.

  Her fingers slid through his hair and he sucked in a sharp breath as her fingernails teased his scalp. Her voice was as light as the breeze ruffling the treetops as she whispered, “I love you.”

  Heather couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so wonderfully sleepy as she did lying there wrapped in Drew’s arms. Everything was so perfect. She had everything she’d ever hoped for.

  “Drew?”

  “Yes, love?”

  Would she ever grow tired of hearing him call her that? She propped herself up on one elbow. “What happens next?”

  “Well, as much as I hate to say this, we have to think about making our way over to Stonebridge. It’d raise plenty of eyebrows if we missed this, considering it’s being held to celebrate our impending wedding.”

  “I meant, after tonight. When do you wish to be married?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  “Well, yes. I know that.” She sighed softly. “Otherwise, this child will be born too soon after our wedding.”

  He chuckled, stroking her cheek with a gentle forefinger. “I’m not even thinking about that, love. I just want you to be my wife. That’s all. I want you to be mine officially.”

  An unfamiliar giddiness swept through her. His wife. She loved the sound of those words. “I think that sounds wonderful.” She sank back into him. “I’m going to make quite the entrance, with my hair all mussed and my gown crushed. I’ve a feeling tongues will wag.”

  “They’ll do no such thing, Heather. You’ll be fine,” he assured her as he reached for his trousers. “Besides, I took great pains to make certain nothing was too badly damaged.” He got to his feet and walked over to a square of checked oilcloth spread out on the ground, where he’d spread her elegant ball gown to keep it from becoming stained and crumpled. “See? It’s in perfect shape.”

  She wriggled into her silk chemise, pausing as she heard a series of snaps and crackles in the distance. “What is that?”

  Drew shrugged as he finished dressing and turned to help her into the lush gown. “Most likely an animal bringing supper home to its family.”

  “Oh.”

  She dressed as quickly as she could. The gown was one of the ones he sent her back to Mary Cartwright’s for, one she’d been saving for a special occasion, such as this. The gown was a beautiful rose-colored taffeta, split down the middle to show the deep ruby silk underskirt. The sleeves were slightly puffed, rose with claret silk ribbon accents woven through the hems. The bodice was also the same shade of rose, with crimson ribbon laced vertically along the boning. The bodice was snug, a bit low-cut for her tastes, but Drew assured her she looked beautiful.

  She wasn’t so certain about her hair. True, she’d chosen a simple chignon, but she still hoped he hadn’t ruined it with his amorous hands. She wished she had a mirror to peer into as she tucked a stray wisp back in place.

  “Trust me, Heather. Your hair looks fine.” He pressed her dark red satin slippers into her hand. “No one will ever suspect you spent the earlier part of the evening making love on the banks of the Raritan.”

  Her cheeks flushed with delicate heat as she eased her feet into her slippers. “I hope not.”

  He grinned. “My lady, in a few months everyone will know what I’ve done to you, so you had best prepare yourself now.”

  She chuckled. “That’s true, I suppose.”

  He fastened the gown for her, leaning forward to brush her nape with a feathery kiss. “Don’t lose those blushes. Not ever. I love them as much as I love you.”

  She turned to face him. He never looked as handsome as he did then. His trousers were black, his silk shirt was stark white, and he wore a dove gray waistcoat that made his eyes seem even bluer. He shrugged into a midnight blue velvet frock coat accented with dove gray and tugged on his dusty Hessians. “I’ll brush them off when we reach the house.”

  She helped him gather the blankets from the ground, folding them and draping them over Samson’s saddle. “Does your family host these parties often?”

  He held Samson’s reins in one hand, offering his free arm to her. “Not as often as my mother would like. Of course, that will change. Mary is now old enough to receive suitors. I’ve a feeling we will be attending many balls.”

  She slid her arm through his. This was so comfortable, strolling through the woods as they made their way back toward the main house at Stonebridge. Her stomach was still a bit unsettled, but felt better than it did earlier. Hopefully the awful nausea would soon abate completely.

  Lights blazed throughout the house, drawing Heather’s gaze to the east wing with its row of French doors and a sumptuous garden. The room shone gold with light, the doors thrown open and the sounds of an orchestra tickling her ears.

  “Is that all one room?” She stared at the opened doors. They all appeared to lead to a single room.

  “That’s the ballroom,” Drew explained as they turned away from the house. “Let me drop Samson off and I’ll be right back.”

  “You wish for me to wait here?”

  “You’re perfectly safe. I won’t be but a moment.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he didn’t wait to hear it. He swung up onto Samson’s back and galloped off toward the dark shadow of the stables.

  “The gall of that man,” she muttered, tapping her foot against the solidly packed earth. “Leave me here alone, in the dark, will you?”

  She wasn’t really angry for she still had a warm glow. Drew loved her. She smiled in the direction he’d gone. Nothing could upset her this evening. Heather was quite certain nothing would ever bother her again.

  Chapter Thirty

  The ballroom overflowed with people. Brunswick’s entire population had come out to celebrate the upcoming marriage of Drew McKenzie and Heather Morgan. Servants threaded their way seamlessly through the crowds, bearing silver trays of refreshment and pastries while the orchestra played quietly in the background.

  Heather stood beside Drew just beyond the ballroom threshold. She slipped her arm through his and swallowed to try to ease the dryness in her throat. While this wasn’t her first ball, it was the most important one she’d ever attended. This was her first foray into Brunswick society, and she was anxious to make a good impression for Drew’s sake.

  She scanned the faces around them. Her fingers tightened, pressing into the solid bulk of his forearm as she thought about having to step into that room.

  His hand came down atop hers and squeezed.

  “You needn’t look as though you are going to your execution, love,” he whispered in a teasing voice. “Simply think of this as practice for our nuptial ball.”

  Her feet felt leaden as she reluctantly allowed him to guide her into the large, rectangular room. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, the flames of hundreds of small, white candles bathing everything in a creamy buttery light. She spotted James and Rebecca McKenzie chatting with several other couples and her tension eased.

  This isn’t going to be so terrible after all.

  As they made their way around the perimeter of the room, several heads turned to see who was on Drew’s arm. Heather tightened her hold on him as they cut easily through the throng. He was so at ease in the crowd, absolutely unaware of the eyes on him.

  Rebecca turned toward them as they approached. “Good evening, Drew, Heather. I was beginning to wonder if the two of you were going to show up.”

  He brushed her cheek with a kiss. “As you can see, we’ve arrived. Is everyone else here already?”

  “We’re missing a straggler or two, but that’s about it.” Her gaze swept over the crowd. “Mary’s already begun filling her dance card, I see. James, do stop glaring.”

  James, who had indeed been glaring at the young man chatting with his youngest daughter, cleared his throat. “Sorry. It’s a habit I cannot break.”

  She tapped him lightly on the arm with a gloved hand. “Alway
s the guardian, aren’t you? Funny, I’ve never seen you watch your sons quite the way you watch your daughters.”

  James turned an amused expression from Heather to his wife. “Now, that’d be silly, wouldn’t it? Drew, did I ever have to worry about you or your brother?”

  Drew coughed. “No, but I’m fairly certain plenty of other fathers lost a bit of sleep.”

  Both men laughed over this, which earned them glares from both women. Heather wasn’t really upset. Rather, the McKenzies and their banter made her feel as if she was truly a part of the family and she hadn’t felt that in what seemed like a lifetime. Even when her mother was still alive, her family didn’t share this type of affectionate closeness.

  She pushed the troublesome thoughts away. Thinking them only served to make her angry, to remind her of why she had to lie about how she’d met Drew. Anger was the last emotion she wished to feel at that moment.

  Rebecca swatted Drew’s arm with her ivory fan. “Oh, that will come back to haunt you one day. Just you wait and see. You will be the father losing sleep.”

  He had the grace to blush at that as he slipped an arm about Heather’s waist. “I am proud to say those days are behind me now.”

  Heather gave him a pointed look. “I should certainly hope so.”

  He responded by tightening his hold on her. “So, in all seriousness, I suppose now that we are here, the festivities can begin.”

  Rebecca nodded, gesturing toward the dance floor with her fan. “I think it only fitting as we’ve been waiting on your arrival. And, since this is your occasion, the two of you should lead everyone in the first dance.”

  Drew’s fingers pressed into her hip. “I hope you don’t mind being the center of attention. All eyes will be on you, you know.”

  Heather was well aware of the curious stares already upon her. She could practically hear the whispers, practically see the fingers pointing at her. Still, despite the nervous knots in her stomach, she was able to lift her feet, to make them obey her. “I’ll try not to blush too badly.”

  Rebecca reached out to touch her shoulder with a light hand. “You will adjust fine, dear. Simply pretend that they aren’t there. I find that works for me.”

  Drew pressed her arm into his side. “You’ve nothing to worry about, love. Ignore them, or imagine them all naked.”

  “Drew!” Rebecca’s eyes went wide with horror but the laugh lines on either side of her mouth creased deeper, and softened her features. “What a terrible thing to say!”

  James covered his mouth with a hand, but could do nothing to stifle the low rumble behind that hand. “I think he might have something there. Some of the ladies in this room would blush even more than our Heather here, were they privy to this conversation.”

  Rebecca tapped her husband’s arm with her fan. “You’re incorrigible, just like your son.”

  James draped his arm about his wife’s neck and drew her close. “You’ve that backwards, sweet. He is incorrigible just like his father.”

  “Be that as it may,” Drew broke in, “I suppose we ought to make our way out there, shouldn’t we?”

  “Most definitely,” Rebecca said, snapped open her fan to flutter it before her. “I’ll go alert the orchestra that they should begin.”

  Drew covered her hand with his and swept her out onto the dance floor. Heather swallowed hard as his hand pressed into her hip and he caught her right hand with his left. He offered up a roguish wink, and her heartbeat calmed. Voices rose in an odd buzz, but it quickly faded as the music started up again and she lost herself in Drew’s amber eyes.

  His hand on her hip didn’t remain still, but his fingers pressed into her as he pulled her flush against him. “Come, love. I’ve no desire to feel any space between us.”

  “Drew, you’re going to set tongues wagging.” Her scold was only half-hearted and even that was an effort. She wasn’t angry, wasn’t even irritated. How could she care about creating a spectacle when his body felt so very nice against hers?

  “Ask me if I care. Even before the announcement is made, I wish everyone in this room to know you belong to me and I belong solely to you.”

  “Is that so?” she asked as he whirled her past a cluster of young, crestfallen women.

  “Lady, if you keep doubting me, I am going to kiss you right here in front of all these oh-so-proper people.”

  She didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d make good on his threat.

  She squeezed his hand. “Would I be terrible if I confessed that I really wouldn’t mind that one bit?”

  His eyelids grew heavy, his expression going from teasing to sensual. Her blood heated up to glide through her veins in a way that was as wicked and arousing as any touch. The rising desire made her gown feel heavier, more unwieldy. Dancing was not what she wanted to be doing with him at the moment.

  Drew curved his hand over her left buttock, shifting to align their hips. Heat sparked between them, threatened to melt her into a puzzle of garnet-colored silk and taffeta. That threat gathered strength as Drew whispered, “Of course you would, love. Terribly brazen. You ought not tell me you’d not mind, as I might think you’re serious.”

  She threw back her head, her laughter determined to break free and she was in no mood to restrain it. It had been a lifetime since she’d last felt so happy, so carefree. Drew’s eyes grew tender at her first peal. “I only hope I can keep that beautiful sound in your voice, Heather. It’s the sweetest sound to my ears.”

  “Oh, Drew, you are good,” she teased, giving his hand another squeeze. “Keep saying things such as this and I highly doubt I’ll ever stop laughing.”

  “As it should be. Just you wait, lady. When it’s our actual nuptial ball, I’m going to take every liberty I might get away with. You’re in trouble.”

  “Ah, but we’ll be married then and there’ll not be a thing anyone will be able to do about it.”

  After the first dance, the crowds gathered along the perimeter of the room slowly made their way out to pair up. Heather remained in Drew’s arms, unwilling to move from them. Katherine and Garrett joined them, as did Emma and Julian. Heather felt like part of the family as, after the waltz ended, both Julian and Garrett grabbed Drew by the arms, tugging him away.

  “Enough with the women.” Garrett flashed a devilish smirk. “Time to celebrate the waning days of your bachelorhood the way they ought be spent.”

  “With other men,” Julian broke in, bowing low to Heather. “If you’ll excuse us, Heather. We promise to return him in one piece.”

  “More or less.” Garrett tossed a grin over one shoulder as he and Julian dragged Drew in the direction of the bar.

  Emma snorted. “Well, if that isn’t just like a man — seeing marriage as the kiss of death.”

  “Oh, I’m not so certain about that.” Katherine turned to face them. “You need to remember, Garrett missed out on this particular rite.”

  Emma flinched. “As did Julian.”

  Heather looked from one to the other. “Why?”

  Emma eased her arm through Heather’s. “Think we should tell her the sordid stories of our past?”

  Katherine chuckled, linked her arm through Heather’s free one. “Speak for yourself, Emma McCallister. My story is not sordid at all.”

  As the two women bantered, they tugged Heather in the opposite direction that Drew had gone, leaving her helpless to do anything about it but follow them.

  “Now, I’d not say that if I was you.” Emma vanished behind the second bar set up in the opposite corner of the room, then came up with a bottle of champagne in each hand. “Seems to me you were a barmaid when you met my brother. Or is that another woman I am thinking of?”

  “Aren’t you the amusing one?” Katherine retorted, snatching three crystal flutes from the very flustered-looking servant and giving him a pert smile for his troubles.

  “Where are we going?” Heather asked as Emma steered them toward the French doors along the exterior wall of the ballroom.

>   “The McKenzie gardens are not only the nicest in all of Brunswick, they are also secluded — a perfect spot for a bit of lady-talk,” Emma declared as they stepped out into the balmy night.

  That sounded wonderful as it’d been so long since she’d had friends with whom she could giggle and gossip. “Lady-talk?”

  “Yes,” Emma plunked down on a white, wrought iron bench beside some lovely rose bushes and proceeded to struggle with the champagne. “Bloody hell…Julian always makes this look so easy.”

  “Give that over, Emma.” Katherine reached for the bottle and expertly popped it open. “And you think my being a barmaid was a blotch on my past.”

  Emma shook her head as she held out one flute. “I never said that. What I said was that you married my brother for his money.”

  “Ah, yes. You did, didn’t you?” Katherine filled a second flute for Heather before filling her own. “Well, as you can see, I did nothing of the sort.”

  “Why would you think that?” Heather asked, sipping the sweet champagne and trying not to flinch as the bubbles went right up her nose.

  “Because I was Garrett’s parlormaid. For a few weeks, anyhow.”

  “Then what?” Heather asked.

  Katherine shrugged. “I gave in. He chased me relentlessly.” She took a small sip of her champagne. “And then he told me I was marrying him.”

  “Now they are in love.” Emma batted her eyelashes at her brother’s wife. “I’ve never seen either of my brothers as happy as they’ve been these days. I thank you both for that.” She held up her glass. “To sisters and happy men!”

  Katherine clinked her glass against Emma’s. “Happy men who know how to treat their women.”

  Heather added her own flute to the toast. “Happy men who seem to have forgotten that other women even exist.”

  “Ah, don’t you know?” Emma took a swallow of champagne and leaned back against the iron. “McKenzie men are an odd lot. They run like mad from any sort of entrapment for most of their lives. But when they meet that one they are supposed to be with, that all goes right out the window.”