Kat couldn’t stand her.
Such were the thoughts on her mind when she passed the doorway into the music room and saw the remaining brides sharing tea and conversation. When she heard Jake’s name, Kat couldn’t help but stop and eavesdrop.
“…ride alone in order to make his decision.”
“He’ll announce it at the luncheon, I’m told.”
Kat moved to where she could see into the room. Talk moved on to Jake’s nieces.
“It’s interesting that while we all recognize what a problem those girls are, Jake doesn’t agree. Any time I’ve raised the subject, he puts a stop to it immediately.”
“It’ll just have to wait until he’s left the country,” said Miss Starnes.
The other women shook their heads in agreement. Mrs. Hartman said, “It’s not like we’d be breaking faith with him.”
“That’s right.” Miss Starnes smiled with satisfaction. “He is leaving one of us in charge of their welfare. I wouldn’t make any decision I didn’t think was in their best interest. However, if I decide they’d be well served attending a boarding school where they’d learn manners and control, well, it will be my decision, won’t it? He’ll be a million miles away.”
Boarding school? Kat’s heart pounded. The women’s voices were a buzz in her ears.
“Those girls are out of control.”
“They certainly need discipline.”
“The baby is sweet as can be, though. He’s better apart from those girls. They’re a bad influence.”
“Especially the mute. She doesn’t set a good example for the dear little marquis.”
Miss Starnes sighed loudly. “So true. I know of a lovely sanatorium outside of Bath that would be perfect for her.”
“Yes.” Mrs. Hartman nodded. “I know of that place.”
“It will be the best thing for her,” agreed Miss Wainwright.
A sanatorium for Caroline? Kat shuddered with anger. Why, those…those…those…witches!
Intending to show them the sharp side of her tongue, she took one step forward, then stopped. Anything she had to say would fall on deaf ears. These women were vicious, moneygrubbing harpies. Why, Jake’s ship wouldn’t even be out of the harbor and the girls would be off to boarding school. Dear little Caroline off to an asylum.
Well, we’ll just see about that.
Kat had heard all she needed to hear. Jake needed to know what these wicked women planned. He needed to hear just what kind of woman he was choosing. She backed away from the music room doorway, then whirled around, picked up her skirts, and dashed for the stairs.
She’d wait at the stables, speak to him the moment he returned. Surely he’d believe her. But, what if he didn’t?
Maybe she should…no! No. No. No. Kat pushed the dangerous thoughts out of her mind. Short of kidnapping Caroline and the rest of the children, Kat had no options.
Save one.
The one that lingered, refusing to die. In the middle of the entry hall, she abruptly stopped, breathing hard. Did she dare? No, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She needed to leave this house. Immediately.
Before she did something truly stupid.
Kat turned around and headed in a different direction. Moments later, she burst into Chatham Park’s kitchen. “Excuse me,” she said to the startled cook, “but may I please borrow a hammer and a screwdriver?”
“Umm…?”
“Shoe repair,” Kat lied. “A heel.”
It was enough, apparently, to allay the woman’s fears. She rummaged through a wooden box, then handed over the requested items. Kat dashed back upstairs. She had to hurry. She had to get her business done fast, get her sister, and get out of Chatham Park before Jake returned from his ride.
She hurried into her bedroom suite, slamming the door behind her, then locking it. She crossed the room toward the door that led to Jake’s suite of rooms, her gaze on the hinges, her grip tightening around the hammer. Halfway across the room, in the periphery of her vision, she noticed the envelope propped against the desk. Her sister’s handwriting penned “Kat” across the front.
Kat halted midstep. Her stomach sank to her knees. The tools slipped from her grip to bang against the floor. Somehow, she knew what was in that letter. She felt it in her bones. Emma’s letter would change her life.
Kat’s mouth was dry, her heart heavy, as she opened the envelope and removed the folded note.
Dear Kat,
I’m leaving Chatham Park today with Dair MacRae. Please tell Mama and Papa not to worry, that I’m fine and safe and happy. I hope you all will understand. I’m off on an adventure. It’s my turn.
I’ll write often.
Love,
Emma
Kat closed her eyes. She set her teeth. Everything inside her went hard. No! No, no, no!
“I need you, Emma. I’m in the middle of a crisis here. How could you run off and leave me!” She sank onto the bed, breathing hard. What was she to do?
For a good five minutes she sat rocking back and forth, her mind blank. Then, breathing like she’d just run five miles, she grabbed the tools up off the floor and approached the door to Jake’s suite, dragging a chair with her. She set the chair in front of the door hinges, climbed up on it, positioned her screwdriver, and began pounding the hinge pin.
She worked for five minutes, then ten, making too much noise, but not caring. She heard someone knocking at her door, calling her name. She ignored it. Finally, the pin fell free.
She went to work on the second hinge. It proved easier to manipulate and took her less than five minutes to free.
She wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt, grabbed the door and pulled with all her might. Finally, thankfully, she heard wood split as the lock gave way and she opened a large enough space to slip through.
Jake’s rooms smelled of sandalwood and leather and him. Kat noted the box containing the altar cross on the fireplace mantel. Leaving it there for the time being, she moved into his bedroom and began a thorough search. First the tables, then his wardrobe and every pocket she could find.
Desperation made her movements jerky. It had to be here. She had to find her necklace. She had to leave right away, and she wanted to take it with her. Emma’s run off with a man. Monique’s run off with a man—again. She was all alone in a foreign country rifling through a man’s bedroom. Some would claim she was the one who should be committed.
She opened the chest of drawers and rifled through his handkerchiefs and socks. Teardrops she didn’t realize were falling splatted against the back of her hands. It wasn’t here. She slammed the drawer shut, gazed wildly around. Where else could she look? Damn that man! Did he have it on him even now?
Running entirely on emotion now, she went to his bed and yanked back the covers. “Where?” she cried, throwing a pillow. “Where is it? I’m running out of—”
“Where is what?” his incredulous voice demanded. “What the hell is going on here, Kat?”
“—time.” Kat’s knees went weak and she grabbed a bedpost to keep from falling. She’d waited too late.
“Which one, Jake?”
“Which one, what? Kat, talk to me. You’re as white as those bedsheets. Why are you crying?”
“Which bride did you choose?”
There was a long silence. His expression went blank. Then, in a quiet, matter-of-fact voice, he said, “Miss Starnes.”
I know a lovely little sanitarium outside of Bath. Kat closed her eyes. That cold-hearted bitch.
“I want my necklace back, Jake Kimball.”
Another long moment of silence passed and she expected him to deny stealing it. Instead, when the thief finally spoke, he said, “I’m sorry, no.”
“Why?” she demanded.
After another pregnant pause, he said, “I think it might lead me to my brother.”
His brother. Kat knew the story. He’d had a brother who’d been lost for years. But, damn the man, he had nieces who needed him now. “The children need you more.”
“They’ll be fine with Miss Starnes. Better off than with me. She’ll make them a good mother.”
Kat could tell him what she’d overheard. Even if he didn’t believe her, he’d have second thoughts. He wouldn’t have Miss Starnes.
But what would that really solve? He’d just find another Miss Starnes. Another woman who’d put money and power and position ahead of the needs of those poor orphaned children. Another woman who’d wait till his back was turned and send sad little Caroline to an asylum.
There was but one thing Kat could do. God, help her.
Decision made, slowly, she turned. She straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, and wiped the tears off her cheek. She looked him dead in the eyes. “I’ll have the necklace as a wedding gift.”
His brow knotted. “I…uh…that’s a wedding tradition that’s new to me—the groom giving a bridal gift to a woman other than the bride.”
“I’ll be the bride, but I want the necklace and the cross.”
Jake’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “You’re saying you’ll marry me?”
Now, her gaze skidded away from him. Jerkily, she nodded.
He moved toward her. “Why?”
Her mouth twisted in a bitter grin. “It’s either that or the sanitarium. So…” she held up her hand, palm out. “Do we have a deal?”
His stare focused on her mouth, then dropped to her hand. “You can have the cross. However, the necklace…”
“It’s non-negotiable. And it’s mine.”
His gaze slowly lifted, lingered on her breasts, before returning to her mouth. He took another step closer. “I guess I can work with that.”
“And I want those brides out of this house by sunset.”
Now he stood but an arm’s length away, so close she could feel his body heat. “Consider them gone,” he told her, his voice low and raspy.
The sound, the scent of him, the heat of him brought a shiver to her skin. It took conscious effort to keep from swaying toward him, and she cleared her throat. “I won’t give you children, Jake Kimball. You must vow to take precautions.”
He hesitated just a moment before slipping his hand into his pocket and slowly withdrew her emerald necklace. Kat’s breath caught as sunlight caught the faceted jewel and it gleamed. “So we have a deal?” she asked.
He placed the chain over her head and down around her neck. When the pendant nestled against her breasts, a sense of rightness, of homecoming, of peace engulfed her. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Heat fired in his eyes, twin blue flames that burned into her. “So many times I’ve imagined how you’d look wearing this and nothing else. We have a deal, Katrina. Now take your clothes off, and let’s seal it.”
CHAPTER NINE
JAKE COULD’T BELIEVE THE turn of events. Just when he’d thought all was lost, when he’d decided for once in his life to let something—in this case, someone—he wanted go without a fight, Kat McBride turns up in his bedroom. Damned if he wasn’t a lucky son of a bitch.
Reaching out, he traced the scooped neckline of her morning dress and savored the contrast between the cold, hard chain of her necklace and warm softness of her skin. He wanted his mouth there. Now.
“You’re not moving fast enough, Katrina. Let me help.” He searched for the buttons on her dress. When he’d worked his way down to the third, Kat came to life.
“No,” she stated, pulling away from him. Her eyes looked a little wild. “By God, I’m not doing this again. You want to seal this deal, we’ll do it with a handshake. No naked anything until it’s legal. In fact, this time I want references. References and a sworn affidavit that no legal impediment exists to this marriage. I want vows before a minister and a judge and…and…and all the children. And all the servants.”
Dammit to hell, thought Jake. Rory Callahan rears his ugly head from out of the grave again. This was getting old. “While I’m at it, shall I sign the marriage license in blood?”
“It wouldn’t hurt.”
Jake waited a beat before saying, “As much as it disappoints me and adds to my physical frustrations, we’ll do this your way. However, just so you know, I’ll abide only the two of us in our marriage bed.” When she wrinkled her brow in confusion, he clarified, “Rory Callahan needs to stay dead.”
Her chin came up, but she didn’t respond verbally. Jake continued, “I’ve already arranged for a license, so we won’t be delayed in making it legal. We could do it this evening, in fact. Emma and Dair can stand up with us and—”
Kat interrupted. “You don’t know? They left.”
“Left? What do you mean?”
She explained about the note she’d found and the carriage departure she’d witnessed. Jake wasn’t too surprised that his friend had taken off with Emma Tate in tow. Dair had obligations that often changed his plans, and Emma…well…she wasn’t the first woman to fall for MacRae’s brooding good looks. “We have plenty of other witnesses available. Shall I arrange the matter for this evening?”
She closed her eyes, swallowed hard, then shrugged. “All right. Fine. Whatever.” Following a moment’s pause, she added, “Just make sure those women are gone first.”
“Your wish, bride-of-mine, is my command.” Then, because Jake couldn’t help himself—didn’t want to help himself—he sealed the deal, anyway, with a kiss.
It had him humming for hours afterward.
Memory of the kiss kept him warm during the deep freeze that settled over the dining room when he made his big announcement during lunch, then shuffled the disappointed ladies to the train station. It distracted him while writing notes to the village minister and telling the children his good news. Memory of the kiss had him slipping into fantasy, off and on, imagining the upcoming night, up until the ceremony itself.
The bride wore gray and cried her way down the aisle of the chapel at Chatham Park. Instead of a floral bouquet, she carried a cat. When she reached the altar, Jake said, “I think I can figure out the reason for the color, but the cat has me stymied.”
“I eloped the first time I wed. I missed not having a McBride family wedding. This is as close as I can come today.”
“All right,” Jake replied, understanding only that she held on to her composure by a thread.
He glanced over his shoulder to where the children sat dressed in their finest beside Nanny Parker. The girls beamed at him, and he couldn’t help but preen a bit beneath their regard. The minister began his spiel, but Kat cut him off midsentence. She spent a full five minutes quizzing the man regarding the legalities of the marriage. After that, she turned to the magistrate there at Jake’s request. Once he, too, had satisfied her questions, she nodded her readiness for the ceremony to go forward. When, moments later she repeated her vows, Jake let out a relieved breath he’d been unaware of holding.
It was done. He’d married Kat McBride.
As he took her into his arms and dipped his head toward hers for a kiss, the strangest thing happened. He’d swear he heard laughter echoing through his mind.
And damned if the laugh didn’t sound just like Daniel.
KAT HADN’T expected a honeymoon. As a result, when Jake led her to a carriage and explained they’d be gone a week, she was caught flatfooted and unable to protest…If she even wanted to protest. She hadn’t had time to figure out how she felt. Everything about this was so different from her first wedding.
Which was probably his purpose, she decided as he assisted her up into the carriage, then took a seat opposite her. Yet, as she settled back against the plush velvet seats, she decided this time spent away from Chatham Park might be for the best. She’d have a week to adjust her thinking, a week to prepare herself for the task of taking on the care and raising of his sister’s children.
A week to overcome the grief that might harm those poor orphans if Kat didn’t finally learn to deal with it.
“I think you’ll like the hunting lodge,” Jake said as he gave a final wave to his nieces. “It will remind you of
some of the cabins you can find in the Texas hill country. It’s cozy and comfortable, and I’ve had the larder stocked. It’s far enough away from Chatham Park so that the girls won’t come looking for us, but if a problem arises, we can get back quickly.”
He kept up a running dialogue about the area, the entertainments, the menu he’d planned for their days away. None of it was threatening or demanding. She suspected he was trying to put her at ease.
It worked. The farther they traveled from Chatham Park, the more Kat relaxed. The weight she’d carried since agreeing to this marriage seemed to roll right off her shoulders. Like most scoundrels, Jake could be a charmer when he put his mind to it. He was trying hard this afternoon.
Kat suspected her attitude had as much to do with being away from the children as being with their uncle. With no children around, she could let down her guard.
She wasn’t worried about being alone with Jake. After she’d made the decision to marry him, she’d decided she might as well enjoy the physical aspects of their relationship. They were obviously well suited in that regard.
The man excited her. That gleam in his eye, the mischief in his grin. The bold stroke of his touch. Jake Kimball appealed to the shameless hussy inside of Kat, the part of her she’d thought died with Rory Callahan.
Well, the hussy in her was alive and well and looking forward to the evening. Her grandmother would be proud.
Her grandmother would tell her not to waste a minute. After all, the man planned to leave in a little less than a month.
When he paused in his recitation of the benefits of a brisk walk in the woods, Kat fired her first shot. “I suspect you and I will get along quite well together in bed.”
Jake’s elbow slipped off his knee.
Kat hid her smile, her spirits lifting. She’d forgotten how much fun teasing a man could be. “I enjoyed marital sport with my first husband—although I guess to be honest, you are really my first husband. Rory was my first lover. He did have a way about him. I must have been the most satisfied bride in Texas.”
Her Scoundrel, Bad Luck Wedding #7 (Bad Luck Brides trilogy book two) Page 16