by Playing
Her brow knitted as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “I’m almost afraid to find out what you’re all about, Drew. You’re making me nervous.”
He patted her hand as he led her out to the waiting coach, then helped her into it. “Now, now. I promise you, love, it’s a good surprise. A good surprise, indeed.”
She settled into the coach, sinking back into the rich burgundy velvet. Drew made himself comfortable across from her, his smile never fading. Fidgety was the only way to describe him, as his hands clenched, then eased, and his right leg bounced nonstop as the carriage rocked along toward Brunswick proper.
Try as she might, Heather couldn’t imagine what he might have planned that put him so on edge. No matter how many impatient sighs she let leak through her teeth, he refused to tell her where they were going or what lay in store for her when they arrived. Each time she tried to ask, he’d only shake his head and say, “You’ll have to trust me, love.”
The coach rocked to a halt and, as she went to step down, he caught and pulled her back.
“Drew, what is going on?”
His laughter was soft in her ear. “You’ll see. Patience, Heather. You need to learn patience.”
“I don’t know if I can learn it now,” she replied as he brandished a long strip of silk and folded. “What’re you doing?”
“You’ll see.” Cool silk slid smoothly over her cheek, across the bridge of her nose, and covered her eyes completely. She stared into blackness as he knotted the silk behind her head. “And no trying to peek, either.”
“Drew, what do you have up your sleeve?” It was unnerving, not being able to see anything but blackness and she fought down the instinct to reach out and grab hold of something to orient herself.
“Step forward.” He caught her by the wrist, guiding her to the carriage door — or so she assumed. Then the pit of her belly whooshed as she fell through blackness, only to be caught in his arms.
She couldn’t hold back a girlish giggle, linking her fingers behind his neck. She felt almost giddy as he gave her a gentle squeeze. “This had better not be a prank you are playing on me.”
“I promise you, sweetheart. It’s no prank. Trust me.”
“You say that so often I’m not so certain I should.” She sank against him, swinging her feet playfully. Despite her warning, she wasn’t really afraid of what he had in store for her. Rather, she enjoyed simply being able to play with him this way. Her devil-may-care husband to be. How incredibly blessed she was, to have Drew McKenzie come into her life.
“Oh!” A flutter streaked through her belly as he stopped and suddenly lowered her to her feet.
He eased his arms about her shoulders, pressing her back into his chest, and murmuring, “Welcome home, Heather,” as he whisked the silk from her eyes.
She blinked at the bright light stinging her eyes. The rain had stopped and it was still cloudy, but it was a bright cloudiness that temporarily blinding her. As her vision cleared, she gazed up at the cozy, two story house nestled between two towering red oaks. “Drew? What is going on?”
He grinned like a fool as he gestured to the house. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s adorable. Why?” She turned to him. “Drew?”
“It’s ours.”
“What?”
He smiled. “You heard me. It’s where we will live once we are married.”
“Ours, you say?” That giddy feeling returned. It was exactly as she’d pictured her first night in Brunswick. She hadn’t thought it possible to be happier than she already was, but she discovered how wrong she’d been. Happy didn’t even touch the surface of the elation she truly felt.
“Ours, love. What do you think?”
“What do I think? I think it’s wonderful.” A slow smile spread over her face as she threw her arms about his neck. “When did you do this?”
“I signed the final contracts yesterday afternoon.” He squeezed, and lifted her to meet his lips easily. “Care to see the inside?”
“I would love to.”
He set her back on her feet. “Shall we?”
Heather slipped her arm through his as they walked up the stone steps to the wide veranda. He unlocked the front door, a shimmering slab of polished golden oak with a delicate oval shaped inset of red, green, and blue stained glass, and thrust it open.
To her left was a small, square parlor. To her right, a dining room. Straight ahead, a narrow staircase led to the second floor. She ran her hand along the sleek banister, a foot paused on the bottommost step. It was beautiful. Beautiful and simple and she already felt no little pride as she looked around their home. “This is ours? Absolutely ours?”
Drew nodded. “It is. Lock, stock, and empty rooms. All it needs is furnishing. Somehow, I think you’ll have no problem doing that.”
She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do. Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”
She didn’t answer, but her silvery laughter echoed throughout the empty rooms as she ascended the stairs to the second floor.
Drew joined her in the largest bedroom, overlooking the front lawn. She gazed through rippled glass at the rose bushes lining the walk. She could imagine how beautiful it would look, once those roses bloomed.
“I take it you approve?”
She turned to see him leaning against the doorjamb. “It’s perfect, Drew. I love it.”
He crossed over to her, slipping his arms about her waist and kissing the top of her head. “Take a look to your left, love.”
She turned to see a narrow door. “Yes?”
“Go through it.”
She pulled away to cross to the door. Turning the knob, she opened it and poked her head into the small room on the other side.
She turned back to him, murmuring, “It would make a wonderful nursery.”
“Exactly.”
She smiled at him. He seemed truly at ease with his impending fatherhood, but would ease remain? After all, his was a wandering spirit at heart — taking to the sea when so moved. It was the first true responsibility he would be undertaking. Would fear set in? And if so, would the oceans whisper to him once again, luring him away from dry land?
A sudden sadness engulfed her. It was not so unusual these days. Her emotions ran the gamut and didn’t always make sense to her. She welled up over the silliest things lately, was more short-tempered than usual.
Still, as she stood there, looking at him, she couldn’t help but see him as other women must. He was so handsome, would always cause female heads to turn twice, would most likely always have to fend off advances. He’d never committed himself to one woman, however. What would happen once he had a wife, a child?
“What is on your mind, love?” He walked toward her.
She shook her head, trying to knock the disturbing thoughts from her brain. “I was just envisioning how it’ll look, once we’ve furnished it.”
“If you don’t like it, we can find another.”
“No, Drew. It’s fine. It’s perfect, actually.”
“So why the long face, then?”
“Just thinking, I suppose.”
He caught her face in his hands, tilting her head back to meet his steady gaze. “About what?”
The words refused to come to her, and she couldn’t force them. She shrugged. “I am thinking about how much things have changed in the past few months. It’s been a short period of time.”
“That it has.”
“And terrific changes besides,” she hedged, averting her eyes from his direct gaze.
“What is it you are trying to say, Heather?” His thumb stroked along her jaw.
“I’m not trying to say anything,” she whispered, still unable to meet his eyes.
“Look at me, Heather.” His voice brooked no argument. As her gaze finally met his, he said, “Tell me the truth. What is on your mind?”
Although they were rare, there were times when she wished she was m
ore like her father, able to hide her thoughts no matter how troubling they were. “Are you certain this is what you want?”
“The house?” he asked quietly, stepping back from her. “Or you?”
“Both. You did not come to London to find a bride, Drew. You did not come to Coal’s to find one either.”
“No, I don’t suppose a man goes to a mistress auction in search of a wife.” He gave her his boyish grin. “But, I can’t say I’m sorry I did it, either.”
“Be that as it may — ”
“Let me tell you something, Heather. I’ll admit, the baby caught me by surprise, although, I don’t know why it should. But, I didn’t propose because of the child. I love you, Heather, and not just because you carry my child.
“I asked you to marry me because I can’t see anyone else by my side. You’re the last thing I think about before I go to sleep at night, and the first thing I think of when I wake each morning. I close my eyes, and there you are. I want you to be my wife, and I want us to spend the rest of our years driving each other mad.”
His words lifted her spirits, but still didn’t erase the main question from her mind. The sea had been his mistress for most of his life. Would he be able to give her up?
She took a deep breath. Better to hear the truth now, than to find out a year from now. “Are you planning to keep sailing?”
His eyes widened, but that was his only reaction. He mulled it over, scratching his cheek with one hand as he said, “I haven’t really thought about it, Heather.”
“It’s all I can think about.”
He shook his head. “There’s no need for you to concern yourself about, love.”
“Of course there is.” They left the nursery, and she paused to pull the door shut behind her. “There’s plenty of cause for concern.”
His expression darkened. “I see.”
She didn’t miss the tightening of his jaw, or the sudden hardness in his eyes. She’d regret her next words, but they were out of her mouth before she could stop them.
“You thought you were ready to settle down with Bridget. Then you left for Europe. You were gone for over a year. How am I to know that the urge to roam won’t strike you again?”
“The situations are nothing alike. It’s not as if I just up and decided to leave on a whim. The circumstances were much different.” A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. His voice dropped to a low, cold growl. “I suppose, you’ll just have to trust me.”
Her stomach knotted at the anger emanating from him. Heather wished she hadn’t said anything. Not only was the pleasant mood ruined, but she’d spoiled his surprise as well. She turned away. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I, Heather. I’ve given you no reason to doubt me.”
“Tell me one thing. Would you still wish to marry me, if there was no child?”
Drew scowled, reflecting the irritation she felt. “I can’t believe you’d ask such a thing.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
He threw his hands into the air. “What do you want me to say? What is it your ears wish to hear?”
“The truth.”
“The truth, eh? Why? You seem to be determined to doubt me at every turn. And, no matter what I say or do, you cannot seem to get past Bridget.”
“She is always there. Hovering like a specter.”
“Only because you refuse to let her go, Heather. I’ve not brought her into conversation, unless initiated by you. I apologize for having a past, but you need let go of that past and trust the man standing before you now. He isn’t the same one.” Drew shook his head, a frustrated sigh hissing from him like steam from a boiling kettle. “I can’t say I’ll never set foot on my ship again, Heather. It’s my business, my livelihood. But, that doesn’t mean my head will be turned by the first woman I see in a port. I don’t know what else to tell you but that.”
“Flirting, seduction — they both come so naturally to you,” she replied in a soft voice. “You do both without even realizing it.”
“Be that as it may, it does not mean I’ll always act upon it. I do have a whit of self-control, you realize. It’s never been in my nature to simply attack a woman. I don’t make a habit of it.”
Her throat closed at the heat in his voice. Why hadn’t she kept quiet? His words echoed in the empty room, which somehow made them seem even angrier. She turned to the window, gazing out at a clump of tiger lilies growing around the base of a large oak. They were beautiful, blazing orange, and did nothing to calm her turbulent thoughts.
“You have no idea, do you, the effect you have on a lady? Without saying a word, you have the ability to reduce one to a blob of jelly.” She traced a fingertip against the cool glass as she fought to keep her voice calm. “I see how they look at you, and I know what they’re thinking, because it’s probably the same thing I think.”
“So let them look. Let them think. I don’t care.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “And because someone looks, doesn’t mean I intend to bed every female whose path I cross! And, if you think I am that clueless — ”
“I don’t,” she broke in, turning away from the window. “I don’t think that. I just — ”
“You just what?”
Pressing her hand flat against one of the window panes, she murmured, “I wish we’d met any other way than we did. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about slipping.”
“I don’t care if you slip, Heather. It doesn’t matter and I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks.”
“Oh, you say that now. But mark my words, should it become known, I don’t think you’d take that same attitude.” She leaned against the wall, her anger slipping away as a sense of hopelessness elbowed it aside. “I don’t think your family would be so happy to learn that their son met his wife in a — a glorified whorehouse.”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he slid down the wall to sit on the sloped pine floor. “You’re right, Heather,” he said after a long silence. “You’re absolutely right.”
Emotions flickered across his face. Anger. Frustration. Sorrow. He raked his fingers through his hair, leaned his head back against the wall, and closed his eyes.
The fight left her as she sighed heavily. “I’m so sorry, Drew. I wish it was different.”
He opened his eyes and held out a hand. “I don’t. Come here.”
She walked over to him, slipping her hand into his to allow him to pull her down beside him on the slightly warped floor. Easing an arm about her shoulders, he said, “I wouldn’t change a thing, love. I don’t care where you were or what you were doing. Remember, I know the truth. I’d wager those sheets are still bloodstained if anyone really wished proof.”
She didn’t resist as he nuzzled her, whispering, “I love you, Heather. And yes, I would have proposed whether you carried my child or not. I just wish to marry you. You might be surprised, but it is that simple.”
She leaned against him, suddenly very tired. “I only wish everything were that simple.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I know, love. I know.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Emma pulled out a length of bright red fabric. “What do you think of this?”
“It’s lovely.” Heather skimmed a hand along the cool cotton. “What did you want it for again?”
“Keely. She’s growing out of everything as quickly as I can replace it.” Emma bit her bottom lip as she frowned at the cloth. “And I’m not a terribly skilled seamstress, which doesn’t — what are you looking at?”
“I’m not sure. Who are those two?” She tilted her head toward two women in the far corner of Scotch’s Emporium.
Emma looked up. “Darcy Penrose and her lackey Sarah Cassidy. Pay them no mind, as neither one is fit to wipe your boots.”
“Darcy keeps looking over here.”
“Probably gossiping about us.” Emma released the cotton and skirted the table holding the fabric to examine another bolt. “That’s what she does best, you know.”
Heather
didn’t know, but it appeared Emma was right. Darcy glanced over at them, wrinkled her nose, then turned back to Sarah. What on earth were they giggling about? It was too bad they weren’t closer, but Scotch’s was housed in a large building, and the two were far enough away that they couldn’t be heard.
“Ignore them.” Emma aimed a glare their way just as Darcy looked toward them again. Darcy held her stare, then turned back to Sarah.
Heather tried to do as Emma suggested, and breathed a sigh of relief when Sarah and Darcy moved away. She forgot about them as Emma asked her about another bolt of cloth.
However, it did seem as if people pointed and whispered as she passed them. Even the shopkeeper seemed to be giving her an odd look. After Emma purchased a dozen yards of the red cotton, she said, “I don’t know about you, Heather, but I need to sit down. Let’s go over to Croft’s.”
“Sitting sounds wonderful.” Heather followed her along the walkway toward the café. Her belly had been calm all morning, but now it was roiling again. Perhaps it was only her imagination, but it seemed as if everyone stared as she passed by.
Her spirits rose as she and Emma settled at a table with a pot of tea and two apple tarts. It must have been her mind playing tricks on her, for no one stared now.
“You look like you’ve something on your mind,” Emma remarked, pouring out two cups of tea. She slid one cup toward Heather. “You aren’t worried about what those two were giggling about, are you?”
“Well…” Heather hesitated.
“Don’t be. Darcy isn’t worth sparing a second thought over. She’s a horrid person.”
“Yes, Drew told me about her. But why would she and her friend be whispering about us?”
“Because that is what she does.” Emma sipped her tea, then lowered the cup back to its saucer. “Really, you needn’t worry about her. No one believes a word she says, aside from Sarah, and she was most likely just carping on how unfair life is that you are marrying Drew and she isn’t. She must be pea-green with envy, seeing as how she’s been trying to lure both of them into marriage since we were children. So, just sit back and enjoy your tea.”