“Don’t lock the door behind me,” Mack warned, eyeing the broken lock, with a twist of his lips that looked nothing like a smile.
“Perhaps I should,” she bantered back. “Look what happened last time I did.”
Mack approached the bed and laughed when Cassie flipped over and pulled the sheet up to her chin.
“Food,” she ordered and pointed towards the door.
“I need sustenance of another type before I can go prowl for food,” he approached the bed and kissed her lips.
“You’ll tire of me, you know. Of this. You’ll find someone attractive and biddable.”
“Attractive and biddable I might find. The biddable part will even make her very tempting,” he ducked as the lone pillow on the bed flew past him.
“How dare you!”
“But I doubt very much that will happen. Not many women out there would be willing to marry ‘The Scottish Bastard’.” He gave her a lingering kiss before leaving her alone in the room. Yes, he had a lot of work ahead of him. He loaded a tray with cold meats, cheeses, and fruits. He also filled two mugs with ale and placed them on the tray as well. Mack picked up the tray and made his way back up the stairs to the room. When he entered it was to find Cassie standing at the window, wearing nothing but his shirt. “Now, that’s a look I could learn to like,” he said. “Expecting someone else?” he asked when she jumped. He placed the tray on the dresser.
“It was convenient,” she responded. And it smells like you, she thought to herself. “You need to see this. I hope you can tell me I am imagining things.”
“What is it?” He frowned at the sound in her voice.
“Down there.” She stepped aside and pointed down towards a tree that stood in the small front yard.
Mack took one look out the window before turning to leave the room once more. “Stay here,” he ordered.
“Shouldn’t you put on some clothes?”
Mack looked down at his bare legs before he walked over to the dresser and opened a drawer. He pulled on a pair of loose trousers and tied them at his waist.
“What are those?” Cassie asked, always curious.
“Later. Stay here,” he told her again and disappeared out the room and down the stairs. Mack slipped into the study and pulled a drawer open in his desk to retrieve a gun. He then retraced his steps, unlocked the door and quickly slipped across the yard. Mack made certain when he reached the corner of the house that there was no one waiting for him. When all was clear he crossed to the tree. A raven was impaled to the tree by a large knife, a piece of paper fluttered in the slight breeze.
Mack pulled the knife free and used the paper to push the raven off. It landed on the ground with a soft thud, its blood coating the knife blade. He would have to remember to deal with it later. He visually searched the area, but saw nothing out of place besides a set of footprints under the tree that led to the street. Mack approached the house, looking down at the note.
Enjoy your happiness while you can, Mrs. McKenzie. You never know when it will be ripped away from you.
“Let me see that.”
The note was torn from Mack’s hands. He looked up and saw his wife standing in front of the house, wearing only his shirt and reading the note.
“What do you think you’re doing out here dressed like that?” he demanded, grabbing her upper arm and dragging her into the house with him. “I’m the only one that gets to see you like that, not all of bloody London.”
“Mack, are you jealous?”
He slammed the door and locked it. “I thought I told you to stay put.”
“Did you see anybody?”
“Did you hear me?” He continued marching her back upstairs to their room.
“Who would want to do this?” She flicked the piece of paper at him. “Who knows we’re married?”
“I don’t know, and anyone who can read that resides in London,” Mack replied, answering both her questions. “The wedding announcement was placed in the society column of The Times for today’s paper. Plus anyone that attended Gabe and Mikala’s party.” He placed the knife on the top of the dresser.
“But I don’t know anyone.”
“Dammit, Cassie, this is the type of thing I tried to warn you about. You don’t have to know anyone to be threatened. How can I get you to understand that you are endangering your life by writing those damn articles?”
“I have told you, no one knows I am C.E. Jones.”
“If it took me half of a day to figure it out, how hard do you really think it is for someone else? You’re calling out everyone in those articles, including high ranking officials and the Monarchy itself. Anyone could want you harmed.”
“Mack, be reasonable. They might not like what I have to say, and they might want to stop it, but this is different. What happiness am I ripping away from people? None. I am making them more aware of what is going on about them. Perhaps I am even playing the part of their conscience, but I’m not ripping their happiness away. They are still attending plays and operas. They are still enjoying their parties and balls. The men are still gambling away fortunes and the women are spending them just as quickly.”
Mack remained silent, knowing what she said was true, but he had no one else to blame. He did not know who the enemy was in this particular war and it made him feel impotent and nervous. “I still demand you stop writing those articles.”
“You demand me?”
“Aye.”
“Just who do you think you are, to demand me?”
“I’m your husband, or have you forgotten who’s shirt you’re wearing? Have you forgotten who it was lying between your thighs mere hours ago?”
“Must you be so crass?”
“If it is the only way to penetrate through your stubbornness, yes. Cassie, stop writing the damned articles. Don’t you understand that I am already fighting two wars?”
“I can protect myself. I always have in the past.”
Mack walked up to her and grabbed her upper arms, squeezing them tightly. He needed to feel her warmth, even through the material of his shirt. “Somebody has threatened you, and we need to find out who that is. Maybe if you quit writing the articles, the threats will go away. If they don’t, then we will know it is some other reason.”
“And what could that reason be?”
“That is the question I should be asking you, dear wife. What other things have you been involved in besides irritating the beau monde and the government?”
“Nothing,” Cassie said. Mack gave her an unbelieving look. “I swear to you, I have done nothing else.”
Mack started to tell her to keep it that way, but thought better of provoking her.
“What?” Cassie questioned, arching one brow and putting fisted hands on her hips.
Mack removed his robe and advanced on his wife. He had stood there lusting after her for as long as he could possibly stand. She looked so utterly adorable in nothing but his shirt falling midway down her thighs. The buttons were undone enough to reveal a fair amount of her bosom. The shirt sleeves were rolled back to reveal her delicate hands covered in ink. Hands that he could not wait to feel roaming over his body. Mack crept across the short distance that separated them.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Cassie asked, remaining where she stood.
“I want you,” Mack sneered, his husky voice caressing her.
“I think we’ve done enough of that today,” she countered. “Didn’t you say you were hungry?”
“Aye, but I find it isn’t food that I’m hungry for now.”
“Mack,” she held out one hand as if to ward him off, but he merely pushed it aside until he stood in front of her, mere inches separating them.
“I can’t seem to get enough of you,” he breathed against her lips before taking them and branding her as his.
***
Sometime later, they finally ate the food he had brought up earlier after having lit candles and lamps around the room. Cassie shook her head as sh
e bit into a piece of chicken.
“What?” Mack queried.
“I can’t believe we are both still wearing clothes,” she answered.
“I told you, you look incredibly gorgeous wearing nothing but my shirt. I may have to purchase more just to supplement your wardrobe as well as mine.”
“I want to know about those pants,” she insisted.
“They’re Cossack in style, which is Russian if you didn’t know, but I imagine you do. They are loose and comfortable.”
“And yet society frowns on women wearing loose, comfortable attire.”
“I’m not wearing these pants out in society, merely around my house.”
“True,” she mused. “So you wouldn’t mind if I occasionally wore them? Imagine how freeing they would be.”
Mack felt himself harden just thinking of her hips filling out a pair of these trousers, and had to clear his throat several times before speaking. “I think you might give the servants apoplexy if you did that.”
“You might be right about that,” she agreed before continuing. “Mack, I don’t want to fight about this, but I am not going to hide the truth from you either. I’m not going to quit writing the articles. If they are what this note is about, then I am doing something right and people are beginning to feel responsible. Perhaps I am serving as a catalyst for change.”
“Dammit, Cassie.”
“Would you quit working at the War Office if you received threatening notes?” Silence met her, and she knew she had won a small victory. “I promise to be careful and ever watchful, but I can’t put aside what I’m doing. It means too much to me, especially after meeting Abigail and seeing first-hand what happens to families.”
“I understand,” he grudgingly replied.
“You do?” Cassie couldn’t help the surprise that registered in her voice.
“Aye.”
“Mack, have you ever thought what will become of all the soldiers once they return home? After the wars have been fought,” she clarified
“There will always be a need for soldiers and sailors.”
“But so many? Will there be enough jobs for them? What will happen with all the extra people back on English soil?”
“I know this is going to sound heartless, but I can’t think about that. I have to get us through these wars we fight, victoriously, I might add. Otherwise we will have to live off your earnings.”
It took a moment for his words to register with her. “You’re not going to fight me on this?”
“I’m not happy about it, and I want you to do everything in your power to keep your identity secret.”
“Thank you!” Cassie exclaimed and launched herself at him knocking him backwards. She somehow managed to hug him tightly before pushing up and straddling his lap. She looked into his silver eyes and smiled. “This is different.”
“Aye.”
“Is it possible this way?”
Mack was already untying his pants and pushing them down his lean hips. “Let me show you how possible it is.”
***
They lay in one another’s arms sometime later. All the lights had been doused and the room was rather dark since there was hardly any moon that night. Cassie had been wondering something every since he had gone crazy when she called him a bastard, and she decided she would weather the storm and find out exactly why that word set him off.
“Mack, are you still awake?”
“Aye.”
“Why do you hate the word ‘bastard’?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” He pulled his arm free of her, separating the two of them as much as he could lying in a bed together.
“I’m your wife.”
“And your point being?”
“I’ve no secrets from you.”
“And you had better not.”
“Oh, really? You can have your secrets, but I can’t have mine?”
“I’m not going to argue about this with you.”
“How are you and Hawkescliffe brothers? You aren’t really blood brothers are you? It’s more like a fraternity, correct?”
“Quit asking questions and go to sleep.”
“No.” Cassie sat up and held the sheet over her breasts.
“You might as well let go of that. I’ve already seen all that you have.”
“You are an arse as well as a bastard,” she taunted.
“I’ve warned you once.”
“What are you going to do, beat me?”
“That’s an excellent idea.”
As he reached for her, Cassie grabbed his arm and twisted until it was behind his back and between his shoulder blades. “Remember, I can take care of myself, even against you.” She let go of his arm, but still found herself across his legs and felt a stinging slap on her bottom. “How dare you!” She scurried to her knees and away from him.
“I warned you.”
She watched in stunned silence as he lay back down, his arms behind his head. Cassie quickly moved off the bed and tugged his shirt back over her head. She marched across the room and was only brought up short when she heard his voice.
“Where are you going?”
“I won’t stay in here and be lied to and abused.”
“And what did you do to me just now?”
“I merely defended myself.” She grabbed the coverlet that had slid to the floor and disappeared.
“Dammit, come back here!”
Cassie stiffened her spine and kept walking. She made her way to the study and sat in the chair that he had tied her to all those weeks ago. Here she was, full circle, back in the same chair, only this time her bonds were invisible and for a lifetime.
***
Pinks and grays entered the sky heralding the sun’s arrival. Cassie had not slept at all, and her eyes felt gritty. Her body ached, reminding her of what she and Mack had physically shared, as well as what sitting upright in a chair all night could do to a person. Perhaps that is all their relationship would ever by, a physical lusting of two bodies for one another. How long could that last? She was certain he would tire of her. Would she tire of him? No. He had awakened her body and somehow her emotions. She found she was beginning to care for her taciturn Scotsman. Cassie jumped when she heard a deep, gravelly voice.
“I hate the term ‘bastard’ because I am one.” Mack crossed the room on silent feet and leaned against the window frame.
“I know you can be hard at times.”
“No, Cassie, I am in every sense of the word a ‘bastard’. Laird McKenzie is not my true father.”
“What?”
“My father was the fifth Duke of Hawkescliffe, Gabe’s father.”
“How?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“My mother, Isabel, was the daughter of a nobleman. She and her best friend, Anne, were great friends with James Hawke, had been since children. Anne had been promised to James in marriage since they were born. My mother was a year or two younger than Anne. Anne and James were friends, but that is all there ever was. He loved her as a friend. But he loved my mother, passionately. They wrote each other letters, but both knew what it would do to all three families if they were to run away, and mother could not stand to shame Anne in such a way. So, James and Anne married and mother stood quietly aside and watched.”
“That must have been awful for her.”
“She was godmother to their two sons. Anne became pregnant again. Probably too soon after the youngest, and she did not survive, nor did the babe. Mother stayed on with James to help him with the children. There were plenty of people around to act as chaperones, but one night both were feeling especially maudlin. They missed Anne, but most of all they had missed one another. One thing led to another and they…”
“I see.”
“Mother realized she was pregnant not very long after. James could do nothing because he was in mourning. In fact, mother didn’t tell him. She just said that she had to return home. An
emergency had arisen. Her mother wanted to send her off to a nunnery, but her father had gambled a good portion of the estate away and needed money. Laird McKenzie had money, but being a Highlander, he needed ties to England to better his business interests. Grandfather married mother off without McKenzie ever knowing she was pregnant. When I arrived a scant seven months later looking like neither of them, nor very premature, he knew he had been taken for a fool.”
“Mack…”
“Mother protected me as much as she could. When she wasn’t having his babies, he beat her for her one indiscretion. She gave him three sons and two daughters. Then the winter of my thirteenth birthday, she caught a fever. She called me to her side and gave me a letter and a bag of coins with instructions to seek out the Duke of Hawkescliffe. She told me to leave that very night, because she feared for my life. Mother told me how much I looked like my father, and she wished things could have been different. She took her last breath in my arms.”
“What did you do?”
“I left.”
“Did you take anything with you?”
“What was there to take? Laird McKenzie treated me less than a servant. I was not allowed anything of my own.”
“You were thirteen and traveled to London on your own?”
“I was big for my age, and passed for at least fifteen on most occasions. Sometimes older. I made it to London while Parliament was in session and found the Hawkescliffe residence. When I was let into the house, I didn’t understand why the butler looked at me so strangely, as if he were seeing a ghost. Then I saw a boy a year or two younger than me at the top of the stairs, and we looked so much alike, I knew in my gut he was my brother.”
“The current Duke of Hawkescliffe.”
“Yes, Gabe. I never saw my older brothers. I understand they looked more like Anne. James was sent for right away. He came in all blustery, but when he saw me the color drained from his face.”
“I’m to give you this, Your Grace.” The young Mack watched as the older man, that looked very much like him and the other boy, ripped open the envelope. The duke stumbled back until he sat in a chair. “Do you need something to drink, Your Grace?”
“No,” the man waved the question away. “Come here, Son.”
Seducing the Ruthless Rogue Page 23