Promise Me Forever

by Kimberly Nee

  Pulling away, he brushed her lips with a tender kiss. “Motherhood already taking its toll, is it? Ah, well, more's the pity, I suppose.” He shifted to lie beside her once again, propped up on one elbow, his hand coming down to press against her belly. “It is hard to believe, Heather, that a child sleeps here."

  "Give it another month or so. Then it will become real."

  He nuzzled her again. “You will look adorable when you become all round, you know."

  She gazed up at him in the darkness. Would he truly think so when the time came, or would his head be turned by the beautiful young ladies without any roundness to their figures? “I certainly hope so."

  "Ah, trust me, love. You will. I cannot imagine a more beautiful sight to behold than you round with my child,” he said, pulling her into his arms and holding her close. “So tell me, how much snooping did you do up here?"

  "I did no snooping,” she told him. “I looked about perhaps. But no snooping took place."

  "It's quite all right if you did, love. I've no secrets."

  "Well, I wasn't snooping, but I did see the drawing tucked into your mirror. It was quite the surprise, I must admit."

  He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “What did you think?"

  She snuggled into his arms. “I think it's quite good. I didn't know you were an artist."

  "I think artist would be stretching it. The subject matter fascinated me."

  "Still, I'd love to see anything else you've drawn."

  "That is about it, love. I don't keep many of my scribbles. They don't quite fit the image I wish to convey to the world."

  "And I suppose no one would ever see you tossing your niece about either, then?"

  "I hardly keep that a secret. Children reduce me to mush. I love them. Always have, always will. You'll see soon enough when ours arrives. Everyone will think I've gone completely mad."

  "A bit of good news to hear, that,” she said teasingly, rolling onto her side. Then she sighed. “There is still so much about you that I don't know, Drew."

  "Ah, but think of the fun you will have getting to know me,” he replied softly, his eyes glittering in the faint moonlight spilling into the room. “Now, you are sleepy. I am sleepy. The sun will be up in a few hours.” He lifted one arm to slip about her shoulders, holding her close as he covered her hand with his. “Don't let me keep you awake. You need sleep much more than I do. I don't think I've seen anyone yawn as much as you are now."

  "I apologize."

  "Don't. Simply sleep.” He twisted slightly to kiss the top of her head. “I'll wake you in the morning before anyone else rises and we can sneak you out of here."

  "Hmm...” she sighed, snuggling closer still. “That does sound nice..."

  Thirty-four

  It was still dark when Drew woke. He lay there for a long while, listening to Heather's deep, even breathing beside him, and realized how much he missed those nights on board the Aphrodite. He missed falling asleep with her in his arms every night, missed waking to find her beside him every morning.

  They could not be married soon enough, he thought, as he tossed back the covers and rose from the bed. He got up and dressed, then lowered himself into his favorite chair, watching her as she slept.

  It amazed him to think that she carried his child and he found himself continually looking for any changes in her body. Though he knew not to expect anything for some time, he couldn't help but look at her in an entirely new way. She had become so much more than a mistress, in ways he'd never dreamed possible. A child only added to the ever growing happiness he felt. It was a happiness, a peace, he hadn't felt in a long time and he had her to thank for it.

  Finally, as the dawn broke over the horizon and the darkness faded to gray, he knew he had to wake her. He hated to do it, for she looked so peaceful. But he couldn't take the chance that she might be caught in his room. Betrothed or not, he knew his parents would be most upset to find her there.

  * * * *

  After breakfast, Drew crept up behind Heather, easing his arms about her waist and letting his lips brush over her neck.

  "What brings this on?” she asked, leaning back into his warmth.

  "I have a surprise for you, love,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

  "A surprise?"

  "Let's find you a bonnet and your gloves and go into town, shall we?"

  She turned to face him. “What do you have up your sleeve?” she asked, giving him a smile.

  "Ah-ah, love. You'll not drag it from me.” He walked her towards the front hall and gave her a gentle push towards the stairs. “Make yourself presentable, that you might find out what it is I've got up my sleeve."

  She frowned at him. His eyes glinted with a mischievous light she knew far too well and a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. Still, she knew he'd not give over and tell her. Swallowing an annoyed sigh, she hurried up the stairs to fetch the items needed for a trip into town, all the while wondering how on earth he could possibly be planning to surprise her.

  She came down to find him pacing the front hallway. He stopped when he saw her and smiled. “Come with me, love. I can hardly bear the suspense."

  Her brow knit as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. “I am almost afraid to find out what you're all about, Drew. You are making me a mite nervous."

  He patted her hand as he led her out to the waiting coach and helped her into it. “Now, now. I promise you, love, this is 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. He seemed a mite fidgety, his right leg jumping almost constantly as the carriage rocked along towards Brunswick proper.

  Try as she might, Heather simply could not imagine what he might have planned that would put him so on edge. Each time she tried to ask, he'd only shake his head and say, “You will simply have to trust me, love."

  No matter how many impatient sighs she let leak through her teeth, he still refused to tell her where they were going, or what lay in store for her when they arrived. All he would say was, “You will have to wait and see."

  The coach rocked to a halt and, as she went to step down, he caught her, drawing her back into the carriage.

  "Drew, what is going on?"

  His laughter was soft in her ear as he said, “You will see. You will simply have to trust me."

  With that, he brandished a long strip of silk. She watched him fold it over, then bring it up to cover her eyes. “Now, trust me,” he whispered, knotting it at the back of her head. “No trying to peek, either."

  "Drew, what do you have up your sleeve, then?” she asked, instinctively holding both hands, palm out. It was a little unnerving, not being able to see anything but blackness.

  He didn't answer, but took her by the hand and brought her to the door of the carriage, holding her in place as he stepped down. Then, she felt a whoosh in the pit of her belly as he swept her up into his arms. A girlish giggle escaped through her lips as she linked 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."

  He smiled. She was being quite the good sport. “I can assure 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 as she relaxed in his arms. 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 felt, to have Drew Kennedy come into her life.

  "Oh!” she gasped, a flutter streaking 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. T
he rain had stopped and it was still cloudy, but it was a bright cloudiness that temporarily blinded 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 was grinning 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. This is 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.

  He nodded. “Ours, love. What do you think?"

  "What do I think? I think it's wonderful,” she murmured, eyes glassy with unshed tears as they met his. 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 gave her a squeeze, lifting her up 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.

  She gasped as she stepped into the front hall. To her left, she saw 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. I trust you will have no trouble with that."

  She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Do you trust me?"

  He leaned back against the closed door, arms folded over his chest. He'd never seen her look more beautiful. She was positively glowing, her face alive with joy. He didn't know if it was because of her condition, or because of the house, but he did know he would do whatever he could to make certain she never lost that light.

  "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. There, the floors gleamed in the growing sunlight, dust motes swirling up as she moved from room to room. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect, and she could hardly wait until they actually set up house.

  She made her way into the front bedchamber, the largest one by far, and walked over to the window. The sun was slowly burning off the morning rain, and she wanted to see the view. Pausing at the window and pressing one hand against the cool, rippled pane, she sighed. The room overlooked the narrow street just off Brunswick's main street, and was lined with cherry trees and leafy oaks.

  "Drew! You must see this!” she called, peering up and down the street at the cozy houses that would soon be her neighbors. It was everything she'd imagined, and she looked forward to making new friends and starting her new life. Finally, the future seemed as bright as the sun now.

  A creak rose from behind her and she turned to see Drew leaning against the door frame. “I take it then, you approve?"

  She nodded. “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 handle, she opened it and poked her head into the small room on the other side. Turning back to him, she smiled, murmuring, “It would make a wonderful nursery"

  "Exactly."

  A warm feeling fluttered through her and she almost hugged herself from it. Not only did she love the house, but it seemed as if Drew truly shared her excitement. He seemed so truly at ease with his impending fatherhood, but she still couldn't help but wonder if he would remain so. 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 wasn't not so unusual these days. Her emotions ran the gamut and didn't always make sense to her. She would cry over the silliest things lately, or grow short-tempered more quickly 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, so sexy. He would always cause female heads to turn twice, would most likely always have to fend off advances. He had never committed himself to one woman, though. What would happen once he had a wife, a child?

  "What is on your mind, love?” he was asking, walking over to her.

  She shook her head, trying to knock the disturbing thoughts from her brain. “I was just envisioning how it will look, once we've furnished it."

  His forehead creased and he frowned. “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?"

  She couldn't bring herself to tell him the truth. “I am merely thinking about how much things have changed in the past few months. It's been much in 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?” he asked softly, his thumb stroking her jaw lightly.

  "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 eyes finally met his, he said, “Tell me the truth. What is on your mind?"

  She sighed, knowing she was caught. She'd never been able to hide her feelings. “Are you certain this is what you want?” she finally asked.

  "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 Delilah's to find one either."

  He sighed after a long moment. “No, I don't suppose a man goes into a brothel in search of a wife.” He gave her his boyish grin. “I did, however, go there with the intention of meeting you."

  "Yes, but—"

  "Let me tell you something, Heather. I will admit; the babe took me by surprise. Though, I don't know why it should. I knew perfectly well what the consequences could be. But, I did not propose simply because of the child. I love you, Heather, and not just because you carry my child.

  "I asked you to marry me because I cannot see anyone else by my side. You are 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 you are there. 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 a tad, but still did not 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?"

  He was quiet for a moment and she could almost see him mulling it over. Then, he sighed softly, saying, “I haven't really thought about it, Heather."

  "It's all I can think about."

  He shook his head. “There is no need for you to concern yourself, love."

  "Of course there is.” She stepped back from the nu
rsery, closing the door firmly. “There is 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 knew she would 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 Rebecca. 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 though I merely up and decided to leave on a whim. The circumstances were much different.” A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. “I suppose, my lady, you will simply have to trust me."

  His voice had dropped to a low, cold growl. Her stomach knotted at the anger emanating from him. Heather wished she hadn't said anything. Now the pleasant mood was ruined and she had also spoiled his surprise. Turning away, she muttered, “I'm sorry."

  "I am, as well, Heather. I've given you no reason to doubt me."

  "Tell me though, would you still wish to marry me, if there was no child?” Her voice was hot, her words clipped.

  "I cannot believe you would ask such a thing.” His words were icy, bitten off to hang in the air.

  She faced him again, dark eyes glowing with frustration. “That is not 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 Rebecca."

  "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 to let go of that past and trust the man standing before you now. He is not the same one.” Drew shook his head, a frustrated sigh hissing from him like steam from a boiling kettle. “I cannot say I will never set foot on my ship again, Heather. That's my business, my livelihood. But, that does not 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."