Promise Me Forever

by Kimberly Nee

  Kendall smiled. “As did Julian."

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

  Kendall slipped her arm through Heather's. “Think you we should tell her the sordid stories of our past?"

  Andie chuckled, slipping her arm through Heather's free one. “Speak for yourself, Kendall 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 laugh.

  "Now, I'd not say that if I were you,” Kendall was saying, shaking her head as she vanished behind the second bar set up in the opposite corner of the room and coming up with a bottle of champagne. “Seems to me you were a barmaid when you met my brother. Or is that another woman I am thinking of?"

  "Very amusing, that,” Andie retorted, snatching three crystal flutes from the very flustered-looking bartender and giving him a pert smile.

  "Where are we going?” Heather asked as Kendall steered them towards the French doors along the exterior wall of the ballroom.

  "The Kennedy gardens are not only the nicest in all of Brunswick, they are also some of the more secluded—a perfect spot for a bit of lady-talk,” Kendall declared as they stepped out into the balmy night.

  Heather thought that sounded wonderful. It had been so long since she'd had friends with whom she could giggle and gossip. “Lady-talk?"

  "Yes.” Kendall 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,” she grunted, tugging at the cork.

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

  Kendall 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?” Andie filled a second flute and passed it to 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 parlor maid. For a few weeks, anyhow."

  "Then what?” Heather asked.

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

  "And now they are in love,” Kendall sighed with exaggerated joy, batting her lashes. “And 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!"

  Andie clinked her glass against Kendall's. “Happy men who know how to treat their women."

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

  "Ah, don't you know?” Kendall took a swallow of champagne and leaned back against the iron. “Kennedy 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."

  Heather smiled. “And does the same go for McCallister men as well?"

  Kendall nodded emphatically. “Oh, most definitely. Think you Julian's head would still be attached to his shoulders if it wasn't?"

  Heather sighed, also leaning back and gazing up at the clear night sky. She thought about how she and Drew had spent the earlier part of the evening and said, “I do not think I've ever felt so happy."

  Kendall reached down to pat her knee. “That's a good thing, since you've already agreed to marry Drew."

  Andie also leaned her head back, turning to smile at Heather. “They are charming, the Kennedy boys, aren't they?"

  "That does not even begin to describe it."

  Kendall poured more champagne for them. “Do tell. I never have the opportunity to find out the details where my brothers are concerned."

  Andie chuckled. “Nor will you find them out now, I'm afraid. That's a bit personal, don't you think?"

  "Oh, at least tell me they are both skilled and generous. I should hate to think of either of them as selfish boors."

  Heather caught Andie's eye and couldn't help her giggle. “Very well. I will concede that much."

  "As will I,” Andie agreed, lifting her glass once more. “To skilled, unselfish men."

  "Ah, ah, call them what they are, my English sisters,” Kendall laughed, holding up her glass. “Rakes."

  "Reformed rakes,” Andie and Heather chimed at the same time before dissolving into giggles.

  "They are the stuff of which dreams are made,” Kendall sighed, as they all three clinked glasses once more. “But, I have to admit, the two of you are quite fortunate in that you knew what you were getting before your marriages. I had to hope for the best."

  "And did it work out for you?” Andie wanted to know, trying to keep the smile from her face, but failing miserably.

  "What do you think?"

  Heather laughed softly, the warm feeling of friendship, of sisterhood, sinking into her as she felt both Andie and Kendall's acceptance of her. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” she said, trying to sound stern as she shook her head. “Drew's not laid a hand upon me."

  Both Kendall and Andie snorted, then burst out laughing. “Of course, just as Garrett laid not a hand upon me, either,” Andie managed between peals of laughter. “Please, think you either one of us believes that?"

  Kendall filled their glasses a third time, tossing the empty bottle into the bushes with a laugh. “Even if I were inclined to believe that—which I'm not, by the by—you should only see how red your face is, Heather."

  Heather frowned. “Drat it all, am I blushing again?"

  "Trust me, I think no less of you. Just as I think no less of Andie and I know she knew Garrett well before they were married."

  "What's that supposed to mean?” Andie demanded, taking another sip.

  "Please,” Kendall sniffed. “I knew almost as soon as you went to work down there."

  "Well, for your information, it didn't happen for several weeks."

  Kendall looked impressed. “You resisted my irresistible brother for that long?"

  "I did.” Andie's face melted into a smile again. “Because I cracked a bloody rib on a bloody boot and could barely walk upright!"

  All three women dissolved into giggles again and Heather found herself wishing the night would never end. It was so perfect, in so many ways, and she wanted it to last forever.

  Thirty-two

  They were making their way back into the ballroom when Kendall suddenly grabbed Heather and Andie by the arm and said, “Careful, ladies, we are about to be pounced upon."

  Heather looked up to see an older woman with sharp blue eyes and iron-gray hair striding towards them. Kendall swore under her breath, then pasted a smile on her face. “Miss Josephine! How lovely to see you!"

  Josephine Kelly tapped her arm with her black lace fan. “I say, Miss Kendall, how lovely to see you this evening.” Her eyes went to Andie. “Miss Andie, you are looking quite lovely as well."

  Heather had to fight to keep from fidgeting as Josephine's blue eyes fell on her and the matron frowned. “I am afraid I don't know you, dear. I don't believe we've met. I am Josephine Kelly. And who might you be?"

  Heather felt a brief flash of panic. “I am Heather Spencer, Miss Kelly. It's a pleasure to meet you."

  Josephine's eyes clouded somewhat. “Spencer ... Spencer. I am afraid I am most unfamiliar with that name, dear."

  With that, Andie linked her arm through Heather's. “She is Brunswick's best kept secret, Miss Josephine. Now, you must keep this quiet for now until Mother Samantha makes her grand announcement, but—” she lowered her voice, leaning close to Josephine, “she is Drew's intended."

  Josephine gasped, a smile spreading
over her lined face. “You're the girl everyone has been whispering about? Oh, how lovely to meet you, then!"

  Everyone had been whispering about her? Heather's mouth went dry as she forced out, “It's lovely to meet you as well."

  "Josie! What are you gossiping about now?"

  Heather groaned as another woman joined them. She was close to Josephine's age, with silver hair and deep green eyes. Josephine turned to the woman and said, “This is the child what stole Drew Kennedy's heart, Maddie."

  "Oh, my! So that wasn't just another baseless rumor! She truly does exist!"

  Heather felt distinctly uncomfortable as both women turned to stare at her. Josephine elbowed Madeline. “Isn't she just the loveliest thing you've ever laid eyes upon? Oh, it's no wonder that boy went so mad for her!"

  "Oh, she certainly is. And such a nice breath of fresh air after that horrid Monroe trollop he was so fond of!"

  "Yes. Yes, indeed. You have said a mouthful there, Maddie."

  Madeline fanned herself with a sapphire lace fan that perfectly matched her ball gown. “Oh, absolutely. But then, it does not surprise me in the least. Kennedy men do not settle for anything less than beautiful young misses."

  Kendall rolled her eyes at that and Heather had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Neither of the older women seemed to have noticed, as they were still too busy gushing over her and the fact that they were the first to actually speak with her.

  Andie cleared her throat. “If you will excuse us, Miss Josephine, Miss Madeline, but I do believe our husbands—” she cast a grin at Heather, “and husbands-to-be are looking for us."

  Josephine nodded. “Oh, of course. Maddie, Abbie Tomlinson is simply going to go pea-green when she hears. I can hardly wait to tell her."

  "Remember,” Kendall warned over one shoulder as she, Andie, and Heather started towards the dance floor, “this is to be kept to yourselves. Not a word until Momma makes her announcement. You know how she loves to surprise people."

  Both women hastily swore to keep the secret and Kendall smiled as she gave a gentle tug on Heather's arm, muttering, “I'll wager that everyone knows before this evening is over, whether Momma's made that announcement or not."

  Heather smiled. “It's hardly a secret, though. I thought that was the reason for this ball in the first place?"

  "Oh, it is. But Momma didn't put that into the invitations. She merely requested everyone attend a run-of-the-mill ball. You will see soon enough. My mother loves to spring surprises on people. She thinks it's such great fun to get one over on everyone."

  * * * *

  As the hour grew late, those who would be staying over began retiring to the second floor for the night. Heather knew Drew planned for them to stay as well, but she had no idea where she was to sleep. Drew had disappeared with his brother once more, and she wasn't the least bit certain whom to ask.

  Kendall solved that problem for her, crossing over to lean up against the wall beside her. “I think I am just about done in,” she sighed, smothering a yawn. “Andie's already gone up to Garrett's former room. How are you faring?"

  "I am afraid I am just about done in as well,” Heather replied, smothering a yawn of her own. She was suddenly terrifically exhausted, feeling as if she'd been up for days. “Oh, excuse me,” she said, covering her mouth with a delicate hand. “I am just so sleepy."

  Kendall linked her arm through Heather's. “I can imagine all of the whirlwind of the past week has been most hectic for you. Let's get you settled then, shall we? Forget Effie. I know where you can sleep."

  She didn't protest as Kendall steered her out of the ballroom and along the hallway towards the front of the house. From there, Kendall guided her up the narrow staircase to the second floor.

  Kendall smiled. “Be very quiet now, and follow me."

  Though she was incredibly curious, Heather remained silent as Kendall pulled her along the narrow hallway, to a bedroom at the very end. She pushed open the door and gave Heather a gentle push.

  She knew without having to be told that she was in Drew's chambers. She turned to her and said, “Oh, no, Kendall. This is not a good idea. Not a good idea by half."

  Kendall waved away her protest. “Oh, pish. It's a fine idea. My room is right across the hallway, and the room next to this is Garrett's, so you will have plenty of privacy. Nobody comes to wake Drew, so it's perfect.” Kendall gave her a knowing smile. “Besides, I assume that you would prefer snuggling up to him than up to just a pillow."

  Heather felt the flush creep into her cheeks. “Well, I..."

  "Please, I can completely understand. Now go. Make yourself comfortable. Besides, what is the harm? The menfolk'll be gone for hours if they found another game of whist. It'll be at least dawn before they turn in for the night."

  Before Heather could protest any further, Kendall pulled the door closed, leaving her alone in Drew's inner sanctum. She turned to lean back against the door, her eyes slowly moving over her surroundings.

  His room was at the front of the house, in the eastern corner. Both the north and east walls were mostly windows, with cranberry red draperies, which were now tied back to let in what little breeze the humid air would cough up.

  The floor was bare beneath her feet, with only a small, colorful area carpet beneath the mahogany four-poster bed. The bed caught her eyes immediately. It was a work of art, the mahogany polished to brilliant shine, piled high with plump pillows, covered with a cranberry and hunter green quilt and matching hangings.

  She wandered slowly about the room, laying a hand on the mahogany Chippendale wardrobe, the lower chest of drawers, a solid looking desk, the bedside tables. In the eastern corner, between the windows, was a comfortable chair, an ottoman and small table, upon which a book lay, open and facedown.

  The battered leather cover was worn smooth and she smiled as she read the title. Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Sinking into the well-worn chair, she lifted her feet up onto the ottoman and sighing softly. This must have been Drew's preferred spot in the room, for she could smell his unique scent wafting up from the fabric.

  It felt odd, being in his bedroom. It was such a personal area that she almost felt like an intruder. After a few minutes, she rose from the chair to peruse the barrister's bookcase beneath the windows. No books of poetry to be found here, she thought with a smile.

  She paused at what would have been a vanity table, if he was a woman. There were the usual trappings to be found—comb, brush, Massacar oil that she couldn't remember ever seeing in his hair, a razor, and colognes. Her eyes fell on a small crystal dish holding several pairs of cufflinks and a curious gold medal on a fine gold chain—something else she couldn't recall ever seeing on him.

  A mirror was mounted above the dressing table and she could see scraps of parchment tucked into its frame. A small sketch had also been tucked in amongst the notes. She frowned, leaning closer for a better look. “Oh, my,” she whispered, realizing she was looking at a drawing of herself.

  She plucked down the small square of paper to bring it closer still. It was definitely her, in Drew's cabin on board the Aphrodite and she was amazed by the detail in the drawing. It was good. Quite good, indeed.

  "I had no idea he was an artist,” she whispered, feeling unexpected tears prick at her eyes. She suddenly felt even closer to him, discovering yet another side of him. It touched her, that he'd taken the time to draw her, even more so that he'd brought it from his ship and kept it tucked into the mirror.

  She yawned again, that feeling of exhaustion washing over her. “I need to sleep,” she murmured, turning back to face the bed. A smile played at her lips as she undressed down to her chemise and pulled down the bedclothes. “No memories here to compete with."

  She slipped beneath the light linen sheet, her head sinking into the fluffy pillows. It was like being embraced by the very essence of him, lying there in his bed, with his sheets pulled up around her, and it was not long before she drifted off to sleep.


  Thirty-three

  Heather woke with a start as the bed suddenly dipped. She gasped, yanking the sheet to her chin as she sat upright.

  "What the devil—?” Drew sputtered.

  She squinted as the room was suddenly ablaze with light, looking up to see him standing above her. Her cheeks burned as she realized he'd removed every stitch of clothing and was about to climb into the bed.

  "Heather? What the devil are you doing here?"

  She shielded her eyes. “What are you doing here?"

  "Well, it is my room,” he chuckled, slipping into the bed beside her. “But I was not expecting to find you here."

  "It was your sister's idea."

  "Why am I not surprised?” He extinguished the lamp and lay back, draping an arm about her as he murmured, “My parents would explode if they knew you were in here, you know."

  "Then, perhaps I ought to go."

  He held her as she tried to sit up. “Oh no, love, I don't think so."

  "Drew!"

  "Shh...” His voice became a throaty whisper as he pinned her beneath him. “Let's live dangerously, shall we?"

  She couldn't help but laugh. “I thought you were going to be gone all night. Kendall seemed to think that's what would happen, if you men found something to compete over,” she murmured, trailing her fingertips up over his back.

  "Ah, Kendall only thinks she knows us all so well. Actually, she's most likely right, save for the fact that Julian and Garrett were both in a bit of a mood."

  She gave him a confused look. “Fighting, were they?"

  He arched an eyebrow and grinned. “Not that sort of a mood, love."

  She felt him rise up against her thigh and slowly nodded. “Oh, I see. That sort of a mood."

  He leaned over to nuzzle her. “They are not the only men in this house in that sort of a mood."

  Her eyes closed at the gentle brush of his lips against her neck. “Oh, that feels nice,” she whispered, wishing she weren't quite so sleepy. “But I am afraid I am simply worn out, Drew."