by Kimberly Nee
He yanked off his left boot, dropping it calmly as he said, “You might want to see if that frame broke."
"To hell with the damned frame!” Garrett snapped, pausing in front of him, hands on his hips, glaring down.
"What is it that's got you in such an uproar?"
"I'll tell you what! How could you do something so stupid as to bring your whore back from England with you?"
Drew felt the blood drain from his face, splashing into his stomach and sending a wave of ice rippling through his veins. “What?"
"You heard me.” Garrett's voice was scorching, flames practically shooting from his mouth. “What the hell were you thinking? And to bring her into this family, no less? Are you trying to destroy everything our father, our grandfather, worked their whole lives to build?"
Drew calmly tugged off his right boot, letting it drop beside its mate. “I've no idea what you are talking about, Garrett. I think, perhaps, the heat is getting to you."
"Oh, do you now? Well, in case you have forgotten, her name is Heather and apparently, she spent some time working in a brothel. Delilah's, to be exact. Does that name ring a bell?"
Drew got to his feet, roughly brushing by his brother as he said, “You've no idea what you are talking about, so I highly suggest you stop talking right now."
"Are you telling me I am wrong?"
"I am telling you to mind your own business.” He moved to his wardrobe, pulling open the left side door and bending into it to extract another pair of polished black Hessians. “I don't need you living my life for me, thank you very much."
Garrett crossed his arms over his chest, turning to watch as Drew tugged on the new boots. “This is no longer simply your business, Drew. You do realize that, don't you? You are on the verge of destroying Eagleton!"
"How? How am I doing anything of the sort? As I said, you know not what you are talking about."
"I most certainly do know. Heather—the woman you brought into Shadowbrook, the woman our family welcomed into their midst—is a whore!"
"If I were you,” Drew replied, his jaw clenching as anger tightened every fiber in his body, “I would stop talking this minute, Garrett. And I mean it. Not another word."
"Aren't you even curious as to how I know about her? How I know where you met her? I can tell you, Momma and Da will be upset enough when they find out their innocent angel frequents whorehouses. They are going to hit the roof when they learn you intend to marry one of the whores."
Drew's fist tightened, his entire body straining to keep from throwing a punch guaranteed to level his brother. “I will say this only once more. Drop it. If you call Heather a whore once more, I will remove your teeth from your mouth."
"What else would you call her, Drew? Christ, what the hell were you thinking? Were you even thinking? I mean, with your head?"
Raw, white-hot anger slowly poured into Drew, sending his heart hammering against his ribs and speeding up his breathing. “Heather is anything but a whore. If I hear that word pass your lips in reference to her again, I promise you, I will take you apart."
"Well, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but I am not the only one who knows,” Garrett retorted sharply, moving over to the window to peer through the drapes. “And, as I said, you are on the verge of destroying all this family has worked for."
"I've done nothing of the sort,” he said, shaking his head. “Now, I'll kindly ask you again to take your nose from my business and stop treating me as if I was a wayward boy in need of guidance. I am—"
"A grown man. Yes, I know,” Garrett sighed, holding up a hand, moving away from the window to stand before him once more. “Spare me, please. If you want to be treated like a grown man, don't you think it's time you stop behaving as if you were a brainless jackass interested only in how many beds you can visit? This is the most asinine thing you have ever done. And now you want to marry the girl? Why? What the hell is wrong with you? Did you think no one would ever learn the truth? That you married a woman used by God knows how many other men and—"
Drew didn't let him finish. He swung. His right fist smashed into Garrett's jaw, sending him reeling across the room to crash into the wall beside the bed. “I warned you,” he growled, shaking with anger. “You do not know what the hell you are talking about, so it's in your best interest to keep your mouth shut."
Garrett pushed away from the wall, ruefully rubbing his jaw. “Do you even want to know how I know, Drew? Aren't you even the least bit curious? Julian told me about an hour ago. He heard from George Hadley—"
"What?” Drew's stomach twisted into a painful knot, bile rising in his throat as Garrett's heated words washed over his brain. “What did you say?"
"You heard me. It's making its way through Brunswick even as we speak. Andrew Kiernan Kennedy, second in command at Eagleton Shipping, currently Brunswick's most eligible bachelor, is marrying a former whore. They are going to love this bit, don't you think? Momma and Da will be so happy for you."
"Oh, bloody hell...” Drew collapsed into the chair by the window, forearms resting on his thighs, hands dangling between his knees, and his head dropped forward, eyes focused on the floor.
"Now, do you want to tell me what the hell is going on, or do you simply wish to hit me again?"
Drew didn't answer. It was as if all the air in the room had been sucked out and he was slowly being turned inside out. His stomach cramped as he thought about his parents’ reaction, once they learned the truth. And he did not doubt for a moment that they would. Nor did he doubt they would be beyond furious. He'd brought shame down onto his family. Unintentionally, of course, but that would no longer matter.
Heather.
He winced, squeezing his eyes shut as he thought about her. There was no way his parents would ever allow a marriage to take place between them now. If he was lucky, his father would not disown him outright.
Lifting his head, it was to find Garrett still staring down at him. “I am telling you, it's not what you think. It's not that at all."
"So, why don't you tell me what it is?” The heat was gone from Garrett's voice, though he kept rubbing the bruise forming on his jaw.
"I did meet her at Delilah's. Brady St. Charles, a friend of mine, told me about this absolutely stunning girl working there. I was curious, so I went with him.
"Garrett, when I went into that room, I was blown away by her. She didn't belong there. She absolutely did not belong there.” He could feel the weight lifting as he rubbed his eyes and raked his fingers through his hair. It was almost a relief to not have to keep Heather's secret to himself. Almost.
"Of course not. She was a perfectly innocent little miss, am I right?” Garrett drawled sarcastically.
Drew ignored Garrett's knowing look. “She was. I know you don't believe it, but it's true. She was innocent in every way imaginable."
"And you decided it would be a terrific idea to bring her to America? To save her from this horrible life?"
Drew rolled his eyes at the scorn in Garrett's voice. “Not exactly. It seems her father was deeply in debt to the madam, amongst other creditors. Upon his death, she sold off her family's possessions to pay his debts. She had nothing left, and still had Madam Allison to pay. So, the woman basically indentured Heather to work off her father's liability."
"And that's when you thought you'd take her in?"
"Don't make me hit you again."
Garrett grinned, pausing his jaw-rubbing. “I'd appreciate it."
"No. After she told me this, I couldn't help it. I wanted to help her. Hell, I just wanted her."
"So you did feel sorry for her?"
"Well, of course I did. She did not belong there. But, I wanted her, so I asked her to be my mistress."
Garrett rolled his eyes. “This story keeps getting better and better, Drew."
"I didn't touch her that night. But, there was something there, it drew me to her. I paid off her debt and in return, she would be my mistress. However, nothing was consumma
ted until we set sail.” He let out a mighty sigh, sinking back into the chair. “And, I can vouch for the fact that she is—or I should say was—a virgin."
"She was?"
He ignored the arched brow Garrett gave him, as it was a move he generally relied upon to either intimidate or humor, but Drew felt neither as he simply stared back. “She was. Trust me. Blood streaked the sheets."
"And you are certain she didn't keep a vial on hand, in order to raise her price?"
"Do you really wish for me to hit you again?” Drew asked sharply, fresh irritation rearing its head. “Andie was a virgin, wasn't she? Certainly you know how it feels to be the first man, don't you?” He took a great satisfaction in the color staining Garrett's cheeks. “I see that you do."
Garrett cleared his throat. “Very well, I suppose I do. But, that does not change the fact that you met her in a house of sin. In the eyes of the world, she is a harlot and no amount of protestation will change that."
The weight that had lifted from Drew's shoulders was pressing down upon them once again. Garrett was right and he knew it. Heather was ruined in the eyes of Brunswick. He sat upright as he asked, “You said Hadley told McCallister. Who told old Georgie?"
"That I don't know, Drew. But, I can hazard a guess where such a rumor might have originated."
This made no sense to Drew. No one in Brunswick could possibly know about Heather's time at Delilah's. The only people who could have known would be those on board the Aphrodite. And certainly his crew—
"Henry Donaldson.” Drew's voice had dropped to a low, angry growl. “That son of a bitch. I will kill him. I warned him—"
He moved to leap from the chair, only to be held back by Garrett. “Wait, wait. Before you go avenging the lady's honor, don't you think you have more pressing matters at hand? Like our father?"
"I'm afraid I've got even worse problems."
Garrett could see his brother's shoulders slump and suddenly, Drew seemed years older. “What is it?"
He ran another hand through his hair. “She's pregnant, Garrett."
"What?!"
Drew nodded. “Oh, yes. I am going to make them grandparents in about six months."
"Bloody hell."
"Oh, I don't think of it that way. Tell you the truth, I am pretty damn excited about it. I love her, Garrett. I don't give a damn what anyone might say. Hell, I've never cared what anyone thought about what I did. I know the truth and to hell with anyone who chooses to believe otherwise."
"Think you it's as simple as that?"
"No, of course not. But do you hear what I am saying? I am in love with her. I can't simply stop that because it doesn't suit what people think."
"Well, you are going to have to think long and hard about everything, once Momma and Da find out. I don't think they will be too pleased to have Heather as their daughter-in-law."
"Drew!"
He winced as his father's angry roar reached his ears. “I've a feeling I am about to find out."
Thirty-seven
Drew knew the roof was about to be dropped on his head as he came down the stairs to find his father at the bottom, dark eyes blazing with fury. Without having to ask, he knew the rumor had reached Warren's ears. “Yes?"
"A word, if you don't mind?"
"Where is Momma?"
"Mercifully unawares, as she is taking a nap.” Warren's reply was sharp as he gestured to the library.
Garrett appeared at the top of the stairs. “Da, before—"
"Keep out of this,” Warren growled. “This is between your brother and me."
Drew took a deep breath as he stepped into the library, wincing as his father slid the doors together with a resounding thud. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Warren so furious. Most likely when it was Kendall being discussed in hushed whispers and with sniggering giggles.
"How could you?” Warren thundered, striding across the room to the table where the liquor was kept. He poured himself a hefty tumbler of bourbon, slugging half of it in one gulp. “How could you be so stupid? A whore, Drew? What were you thinking?"
Drew felt his hackles rise. “She is not a whore."
"So these stories are not true, then? You did not meet her in a whorehouse?"
"Da—"
"Answer me!"
"Yes! Is that what you want to hear?” Drew threw his hands up in frustration. “Yes! I did meet her in a whorehouse. There, my halo is now permanently tarnished! I confess—I set foot in a house of sin! I bought a woman!"
"Why on earth would you bring her here? And to marry her? What in the name of Christ were you thinking?"
"I was thinking that I love her. And, she is not what you think she is. Trust me, she isn't."
"Is that so? I find it hard to believe you came out of a brothel with a nun!” Warren's hand shook as he slammed the glass back to the tabletop. “You realize, of course, you cannot possibly marry this woman."
"Of course I can. I intend to do just that."
"I am afraid that is not possible, Drew. You will have nothing more to do with her. Have you any idea, any inkling, of what this will do to your mother when she hears it? That harlot stayed beneath our roof! We accepted her into this family!"
Anger gnawed at Drew's insides, but he knew he couldn't very well take a swing at his father. “I am no longer a boy, Da. It is my decision as to whom I marry, and Heather is the choice I've made."
"Is that a fact?"
He folded his arms over his chest, his eyes locking with his father's. “Yes."
"Then you will no longer be welcome in this house.” Warren's reply was swift, his voice resonating through the house. “I will not have that trash in my house."
"That trash, as you so succinctly put it, is no more a whore than any other woman associated with this family. Circumstances beyond her control forced her to be there, but I can assure you, she was as innocent as Kendall was after her supposed tryst with Julian."
"Do not even think to drag your sister into this, Andrew. It is not the same thing."
"And how would you know?” Drew's deep voice rose to a shout, bouncing off the walls in a deep thunderclap. “How would anyone presume to know what took place before I met her? I am the one who knows for damn certain that she was untouched before I came into her life. I am the only one who knows."
Warren's expression became one of horror mixed with shock, as if he could not believe Drew would have the gall to stand up to him, to defy him in such a manner. “It matters not what she was or wasn't before you met her, Andrew,” he replied coldly. “What matters is what is being said now. I will not allow you to marry this trollop and give her our name. Should you choose to do so, you are on your own. You will cease to be my son."
Drew felt the impact of those words down to the soles of his feet as a sudden chill flooded him. “You would disown me over this?"
Warren's expression was bland, his eyes flat. “I would."
Drew did not like being backed into this corner. His first instinct was to strike back with as much force as possible. “Very well. To hell with you and to hell with this family.” He practically spat the words at his father as he turned on his heel and slammed out of the library.
* * * *
Heather was lying down when Jeremy tapped lightly on her door and called, “Miss Heather? Drew is here to see you."
She sat up, feeling groggy as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Drew is here?"
He nodded. “I'll send him up."
"Please."
With that, he was gone. Moments later, she heard the sounds of Drew's boots on the stairs, then he appeared in the doorway. She would have smiled, but the danger glinting in his eyes instantly put her on her guard.
"Drew, what is it?"
He looked pained as he said, “People know."
Dread flooded her, replacing the blood in her veins, as those two words reached her ears. She didn't have to ask. She already knew. It was a good thing she was still sitting, for she would have f
allen over if not. A disbelieving “What?” was all she could muster.
He nodded. “I just found out myself."
"But ... how? Who?"
"I can't say for certain, but I believe it was Henry. Don't worry, I have every intention of dealing with that little maggot."
As he spoke, he came into the room to sit beside her on the bed. She could see something else was troubling him. He certainly did not have that devil-may-care sense about him now. She reached for his hand, whispering, “What is it?"
"If I marry you, love, my father has informed me I will cease to be his son."
"Oh, Drew, that is terrible.” She could not believe what she was hearing, that Warren would turn on Drew in so vicious a manner. That he would take everything away from Drew, right down to his name—his birthright.
She could see the pain in his eyes as they met hers and she whispered, “Well, it's decided then."
"I didn't say I'd changed my mind. I have every intention of making you my wife."
Her heart ached as she gazed up at him. He was willing to sacrifice all for her, to throw away everything he had worked so hard to obtain. He would pick up and walk away from his family to be with her. It amazed her, the depth of his love for her. It amazed her and warmed her to her core. Never before had she dared dream a man would love her with such conviction.
She could not let him do it.
As she sat there, stroking the back of his hand, she knew she could never ask him to make that kind of a sacrifice for her. He would only live to regret it. Love could fade. Family was for life.
"Drew?"
"Yes?"
"Go home."
"What?"
She took a deep breath. She knew she would hate herself for the rest of her days, but she could not let him destroy his entire life for her. “I said, go home."
"Heather, didn't you hear what I said?"
"Yes. I did hear. But, I've been thinking—quite a bit of thinking. I've decided I wish to return to London."
"What?” Drew frowned, as if he hadn't heard her correctly. “London?"
"Yes. I miss England terribly.” She knew her next words would kill him, but it was the only way she could think of to get him to leave her and try to restore his relationship with his family. “And I know you can't live there. Not with your business being here. It simply isn't possible then—"