by Kimberly Nee
Drew curled his fingers about hers, lifting her hand to his lips. “Are you certain you do not need a doctor?"
No, she wasn't certain at all. She had no idea if she needed a doctor, though she had heard of morning sickness. Hopefully, that's what her never-ending queasiness was, and hopefully it was perfectly normal. Either way, she didn't want Drew hovering over her any more than he already was. It would be a dead giveaway and she wanted to keep her condition a secret until after they were safely wed.
"I am fine, Drew. Now please, do stop fussing so. You are going to raise eyebrows if you don't."
They rocked to a halt and he reached for the door handle. “I apologize, Heather. This is all new for me as well.” He spoke as he climbed down from the coach and turned to offer his hand.
She accepted as his admission brought on a sense of relief. It was nice, knowing she was the first for something where he was concerned. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, allowing him to help her down. She looked up at the imposing edifice of Shadowbrook and her stomach turned over painfully. Still, she did not hesitate in her steps as Drew strode up the brick walk to the marble portico.
He thrust open the door and they stepped into the front hallway. Her eyes widened as she looked up at the beautiful crystal chandelier, aglow with flickering white candles bathing everything in buttery golden light. Beneath her slippers, satiny oak floorboards gleamed just beyond the small, square mat on which she stood.
A narrow staircase loomed directly across from the double front doors, and Heather looked up to see a petite, dark-haired woman carrying a young girl down the stairs. The woman paused when she saw them, a devilish smile lifting her lips.
"Drew, I was wondering what this family supper was all about,” the woman said in a light, teasing voice as she descended the remaining steps. “Darcy, give Uncle Drew a kiss."
The dark-haired girl smiled, her even darker eyes luminous as she reached for him. “Unca Drew!"
He laughed as he accepted the little girl, squeezing her and crooning, “How's my little angel?"
Heather couldn't help melting as she watched him with the child. He seemed so comfortable holding Darcy, and the little girl certainly seemed enthralled by her uncle. She screeched with delight as he tossed her into the air, catching her easily and blowing into her neck.
"Who that?” Darcy demanded, pointing at Heather.
He ruffled his niece's hair. “That, princess, is Miss Heather.” His eyes flicked to Darcy's mother. “Kendall, I'd like to introduce you to Miss Heather Spencer. Heather, this is my sister, Kendall McCallister."
Kendall's smile widened as she turned to Heather. “Ah, finally! It's about time he's brought you by. I've been going mad with curiosity about you. Simply mad. It is wonderful to finally get to meet you!"
She couldn't help but return that smile. Kendall seemed so warm, so friendly, that Heather felt at ease with her at once. “I must admit, I feel the same. He has told me so much about his family, I feel as though I already know you."
"Well, at least he wasn't tightlipped about us. He certainly has been about you. If it weren't for Garrett, we most likely wouldn't know you even existed.” Kendall's eyes, the same deep blue as both of her brothers, danced with merriment as she turned to him. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Drew, for not bringing her around sooner."
He chuckled, tossing Darcy once more. “I wanted to surprise everyone."
"Well, mission accomplished,” she replied, linking her arm through Heather's. “Come along now, and don't be shy. Everyone is waiting in the parlor and I do believe they're all growing a bit grouchy.” Her laugh was clear and bright as she gave Heather's arm a conspiratorial squeeze. “Not that they'll blame you. Especially as everyone is almost bursting with curiosity over your existence. All Garrett would say was that he'd met you."
"That's because I threatened him with a permanent rearrangement of his face if he said anything more,” Drew replied mildly.
Kendall nodded knowingly, winking at Heather. “I had a feeling it was something of that sort. Well, no matter now, I suppose."
Voices came from a room just off to Heather's right. The parlor. Where the entire Kennedy family gathered to await her appearance. Trying to calm her roiling belly, Heather concentrated on the way the chandelier sparkled from the flickering light of what seemed like thousands of candles. As those voice grew louder, it became more and more difficult, so she gave in with a sigh, turning her thoughts into prayers that Drew's family would not despise her on first sight.
When Kendall steered her into the parlor, Heather thought her heart was about to stop beating. It was an elegant room, with polished mahogany furnishings and sedate leather armchairs. Almost every seat had a body in it, and Heather felt her mouth go as dry as the ash still lingering on the darkened hearth.
Drew gave Darcy one last kiss before passing her back to Kendall. Then, he pressed a hand into the small of Heather's back as he said, “Good evening, all."
A dark-haired man with equally dark eyes sat in one of the dark maroon leather chairs, a book in his lap. He looked up, smiling as he said, “I was beginning to wonder if you'd gotten lost on the road here."
Drew had the grace to flush at that. “I'm afraid we were a bit delayed, as you can see. I apologize for our tardiness.” He cleared his throat. “Everyone, I would like to introduce you to Miss Heather Spencer.” He smiled down at Heather. “Now, pay attention, Heather. You will be tested on this later."
She cast a glance around the room, recognizing both Julian and Garrett from their encounter at the Eagleton office. On the small velvet-covered chaise sat a slender young red-haired woman who looked vaguely familiar, but Heather couldn't quite place her. She assumed the man who'd greeted them was Warren Kennedy, but couldn't be certain. The rest were strangers.
Drew pointed to each family member, starting with the man in the armchair. “My father, Warren Kennedy. The young lady seated on the chair arm beside him is my sister, Diana. You've just met Kendall and her daughter, Darcy. Garrett's wife, Andie, is there on the chaise."
He smiled at the woman sitting on the elegant brown leather sofa nearest the fireplace. She was petite and slender, with gold hair and the same cobalt eyes as her sons. “My mother, Samantha. My brother, Garrett. Kendall's husband, Julian."
Heather gave them a pleasant smile as she said, “It's wonderful to finally meet you all. Drew has spoken of you so often, as I said to Kendall, I feel as though I already know you."
Each one of them replied in kind, with a friendly—if curious—smile. Drew guided her towards one of the remaining leather armchairs, gesturing for her to sit. Once she was settled, he perched on the arm, much like his youngest sister did next to Warren. Heather felt her belly calm as the smiles remained friendly and the questions began. It didn't take long to learn that the Kennedy family was a noisy one, with playful arguments and frequent admonitions from the elder members of the family.
At half past six, a servant came to the doorway to announce supper was going to be served. Heather hesitated for a moment, then Drew caught her by the hand to guide her towards the dining room. In the formal room, he led her around the oval table to a chair, pulling it out for her.
As the rest of the family settled in as well, Andie leaned over to nudge her. “Interesting group, wouldn't you say?"
She smiled at the willowy redhead. Andie looked so very familiar to her, but she still couldn't quite place her. Still, she recognized the soft English accent and said, “Where are you from?"
Andie's smile was wistful. “London. I've only been here just under a year. And you?"
"London as well.” She held her breath, hoping that would be the most personal of questions she'd be asked that evening. Her mind still whirled with what she would say, should someone ask her how she came to be in Drew's company. Glancing around at the warm, friendly faces, she vowed not to dwell on it. Something would come to her. It had to.
With that Samantha Kennedy set down her wine goblet as she turned blue eyes to Heather. “So, Miss Heather, how long have you been here in Brunswick?"
She turned to Drew's mother. “Only a few weeks now. It's quite a change from London, but it's quickly becoming home."
"And where are you staying?"
"I've been staying with Christina Anderson. She is a close friend."
Samantha nodded, glancing up as a large woman with white hair bustled into the room. “Ah, Effie, wonderful."
All talk ceased as serving bowls and platters were passed around the table. Silverware chinked against the fine china dishes and plates as everyone prepared their evening meal.
Though her stomach protested at the very thought of eating, Heather made a good show of placing a slice of rare beef, a helping of roasted potatoes, and a spoonful of carrots on her plate.
"So, Drew, do tell,” Diana said as the serving dishes were set down for a last time. “Why the need to gather all of us together?"
Drew gave Heather a knowing smile loaded with meaning only she understood. “I wanted everyone to meet Heather. After all, in Brunswick, it won't take long for everyone to find out about her."
Warren's eyes narrowed slightly. “Find out about her? What the devil does that mean?"
Drew grinned at his father, and then at Heather once more. “Well, find out that I've asked her to marry me, of course."
Silverware clattered onto plates in unison, jaws went slack, and eyes bulged from sockets, all training on her. She felt her face grow hot at the stares, her stomach churning even more violently now.
Samantha broke the silence as she turned to Heather. Tears glistened in her cobalt eyes as she said, “And I take it you've accepted this proposal?"
She nodded, unable to hold back her own smile as her eyes met Drew's. “I have."
"That is wonderful,” Samantha gushed, clasping her hands over her mouth as she rose from her chair to embrace her son. “Oh, Drew, congratulations!"
He returned the hug. “Thank you, Momma."
She scurried about the table to engulf Heather in a crushing embrace. “Welcome to our family, Heather."
That set off the flood of congratulations and best wishes. Everyone seemed shocked by the announcement, but also seemed genuinely thrilled by it as well. All except one person.
Warren Kennedy remained in his seat, a frown playing at his lips as he turned to his son. “Might I have a word with you, Drew?"
Drew turned to his father. “Why?"
"Alone, please."
"Very well.” He turned back to face everyone at the table. “If you will excuse me a moment."
Warren pushed back from the table to gesture to the door. Drew also rose and followed him into the hallway.
Heather tried to ignore her growing apprehension as she watched Drew leave the room. Somehow, she didn't think his father wanted a private moment to congratulate him. Her belly turned over with a sickening splash. Any moment now, Warren Kennedy was going to come storming into the dining room to announce to the family that their son and brother had betrothed himself to a whore.
The nausea rose sharply and she swallowed hard to keep the contents of her stomach where they were. Her pulse pounded sharply in her ears, throbbing through her temples as she anxiously awaited her undoing.
It never came, though, for only moments later, Warren and Drew returned, Warren's arm firmly about his son's shoulders and a beaming smile on his lips as he thundered, “I do believe this calls for a celebration, then. Let me have Effie open a bottle of champagne and we shall all drink a toast to a happy marriage for the one we thought would never settle down!"
* * * *
After supper, the family retired to the library, where champagne was opened and crystal flutes filled to be passed around. Drew and Heather were toasted repeatedly by each member of the family. Samantha immediately began discussing plans for a celebratory ball.
"We should set to work at once. I'll have to go over my guest list,” she said to Heather, sipping her champagne, “And have invitations readied, but I think we can manage to pull it all together in no time. No time at all"
Heather smiled at Samantha, who seemed genuinely happy for them. She wasn't so certain about Warren, though, for he seemed a bit wary at the thought of his youngest son marrying. She supposed it had something to do with the debacle with Rebecca, but still it did nothing to make her feel any better. However, she had to admit, overall they were a warm, loving family and she found herself looking forward to being a part of it.
Thirty
Drew sighed softly, his fingers moving lightly over Heather's hair as she lay quietly in his arms. It was night and they were lying on the banks of the Raritan nestled in the woods behind Shadowbrook, enjoying the peaceful solitude. They had a bit of time before they were to arrive at Shadowbrook for the ball celebrating their betrothal, so he had whisked her from Christina's for a romantic interlude. Things would soon grow most hectic for them, so he was determined to enjoy the calmness they had now. Once they made their official announcement, bedlam would ensue.
It was a beautiful night. A full moon glowed overhead and thousands of stars twinkled against the blackness of the sky. A gentle, warm breeze wafted over them as he tugged the light blanket over them. She stirred, lifting her head from his chest to murmur, “What are you thinking about?"
He smiled. “Truth?"
"Truth."
"You. How beautiful you look, lying here beside me in the moonlight. How your eyes remind me of that sky above—so deep and endless. A man could lose himself in your eyes, Heather. And I can think of no better place to get lost."
She giggled softly, even as she felt a tiny shiver of delight surge through her. “You are good, Drew. Very good."
He sighed, folding his fingers over to brush them against his chest. “Thank you. I've had years of practice."
"Why am I not surprised?"
He held the blanket in one hand as he rolled over to pin her beneath him. “You have nothing to worry about, Heather Spencer. Those days are far behind me now.” He brushed her lips with a soft kiss. “Far, far behind me."
"Are they, now?” she murmured, trailing her fingernails up over his back.
"Most definitely.” His voice became the softest whisper as he continued with, “I am in love with you, Heather. I have been since the moment I pushed open door number eight and saw you jump up from your bed in that dark red nightgown, terrified at the thought of what was to come."
Her fingers went still, her eyes widening as she said, “What?"
"I love you, Heather. I should have said it sooner, I know, but you were right earlier. I was afraid. Terribly afraid."
She gazed up at him and knew the time had come. Finally, she had the nerve to tell him what he'd said while in the grips of his fever. “I know. I know what happened with Rebecca. And you have nothing to fear, Andrew Kennedy. I will never hurt you.” Her eyes held his as her heart took flight. Taking a deep breath, she said, “When you were in the grips of that fever, and you first told me you loved me, it made me so happy. And then, when your fever broke, and you never made mention of it again I thought, perhaps it was Rebecca you meant."
His eyes clouded for a moment then cleared to a deep, sparkling cerulean. “Then it wasn't a dream?"
"What?” she asked.
He smiled at her. “I had this incredible dream that you were there, holding me in your arms. I told you I loved you and you said it right back.” He shook his head slowly. “But, it wasn't a dream, was it?"
"Hardly."
"All this time, I thought it was just a wonderful dream I'd had.” He leaned close to caress her neck with his lips. “Why didn't you say anything?"
She sighed as his tongue moved over the shell of her ear. “Mmm ... You were not the only one who was afraid. I was too afraid to say anything."
"You've yet to say it at all, sweetheart,” he murmured teasingly.
She smiled, feeling him ri
se up against her. It felt so perfect, so right and she threaded her fingers through his hair as she whispered, “I love you."
"Say my name,” he commanded in a husky whisper, nibbling at her earlobe.
"Drew."
"Uh-uh, love. Try again."
Her laughter was rich and husky as she tilted her head back to accept his lips along her throat. “I love you, Drew."
He inched down, his lips burning a damp trail between her breasts. He looked up, his eyes scorching her with their intensity as he locked gazes with her. She gasped softly, her fingernails biting into his shoulders as he let his fingers trail over the rise of her breast, down the slope of her belly, and out of sight. Those fingers teased her into a mindless want and she ached to touch him the same way.
She did just that, her fingers brushing him, timidly at first, but then with a boldness she never knew she could feel. She was fascinated by him, by his body, especially by that part of him that gave her such incredible pleasure, that part that was so silken and so steely at the same time.
It was Drew's turn to sharply suck in his breath as her fingers brushed him. He jumped as if stung, only to laugh as she froze. Wondering if she was being too bold, she pulled away, whispering, “I'm sorry."
Her belly gave a mighty leap as he caught her wrist and brought her back. “It's all right, love,” he chuckled, groaning softly as she carefully resumed her caress. “You simply surprised me, that's all."
"I thought, perhaps, I'd hurt you. Scratched you or the like."
"Not at all. And even if you did scratch, it wouldn't be serious. As I've told you before, touch me all you wish, however you wish, whenever you wish. All women should be so bold.” Drew kissed her deeply, his tongue entwining with hers as his body responded to her innocent explorations.
Emboldened by his whispered words, by his most obvious response, she continued familiarizing herself with him all over again. After all, she thought, this man was going to be her husband. It was only proper to make certain he never had the need to dally outside of their marriage bed, wasn't it?