Windemere’ (The McKenzie Brothers)

by Kimberly Nee

  That hopeful sounding note returned to her voice, and his discomfort was as much emotional as it was physical. He shifted. The carriage’s cramped interior didn’t allow much room, and although he wasn’t quite six feet tall, it still wasn’t enough for him to stretch. “And she will. I’m not family.”

  “Oh, but you are.” A playful punch to his shoulder accompanied her words.

  The McKenzie family tried, but they weren’t his family. “No. I’m not. My family is gone.”

  “Julian.” Her voice lowered as she reached across to lay a gloved hand atop his. “That’s all the more reason you should stay here. Besides, nothing would make Momma happier.”

  Just as they’d done on his hips, her fingers twitched, and he found himself wanting them to curl over his.

  He wanted to shift again, to slide his hand free and turn the conversation to something more pleasant, but the words wouldn’t come. Rain slapped the windows. Springs squeaked. The entire coach groaned when they hit a particularly deep rut.

  Would it make Rebecca McKenzie happy? Or would it make Emma McKenzie happy?

  “I give you my word, Emma. If I’m still here, I’ll spend Christmas at Stonebridge. Does that make you happy?”

  “Yes. It does.” She smiled, clasping her hands together on her knee. “It would make us all happy to have you there.”

  “I make no promises, Emma. Remember that.”

  Silence descended, but it didn’t last long enough for Julian to sink into its comfort. Then Emma said, “Why did you hesitate?”

  Although he was fairly sure he knew what she was getting at, he played dumb just the same. “Hesitate? When?”

  “We both know you were going to kiss me. And yet you hesitated. Why?” Her smile widened, reaching into her eyes to make them sparkle. “And why didn’t you kiss me, then?”

  His fingers tightened about his knee. How the hell did he explain why he didn’t kiss her? Because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop at just kissing? Because he was afraid of two angry brothers? Well, maybe not afraid, but still…He squeezed his thigh as he searched for the right words, although he wasn’t so sure there were any right words to be had.

  He bit back a wince as the best he could come up with was, “We both know the reason.”

  “Perhaps you know, but I surely don’t. So why don’t you tell me?”

  “It’s best if we simply forget all about it. It was a terrible idea that would have only led to more terrible ideas.” His thigh burned from being pinched, so he eased up the pressure.

  “So you were thinking beyond kissing me? Why, Mr. McCallister,” she drawled, her smile growing wider, more toothy. “I had no idea.”

  “No. I wasn’t thinking beyond kissing you. At least not, in the way you are thinking of.” Damn it. Why did she insist on flirting? He’d have an easier time if she’d never learned how to do it so well. A much easier time.

  “And what way might that be?” A coy laugh, one he’d never heard before, wove through her words like a silver ribbon through silver bells. It did nothing to ease his discomfort. If anything, it made it worse.

  Careful. “Miss McKenzie, what are you suggesting?”

  “I know what comes after kissing, Mr. McCallister. I know what you and Drew and Garrett and Mr. Jefferson all like to do in the top rooms at The Black Swan and in your own chambers in your bachelor’s quarters with other women. I’m not stupid, you know. And you men aren’t always the most discreet creatures, either.” Her pert smile was almost his undoing, as the dimple in her left cheek gave him the maddest urge to lean into her and nuzzle her.

  Despite her flirting, a pale pink flush rose over her cheekbones. As it did, an image tore through his mind, one that left him as breathless. Emma beneath him, that flush spreading over her pale skin, sweeping down her neck, into the curves of what would no doubt be perfect breasts—

  Hold on…where the hell was his mind going? First he wanted to nuzzle her and now he was envisioning Emma in his small room in his small house, lying beneath him on his not-so-small bed. Their clothes were scattered to the four corners, and she was a temptress, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses—

  Stop it.

  Hopefully, she didn’t notice how he shifted ever so slightly on his seat. Since when did he have such a vivid imagination? And besides, shouldn’t they be discussing something a little less scandalous? He cleared his throat. “I think that, if I had kissed you, we would both regret it. And I know I would when one of your brothers found out.”

  “Oh, pish.” She waved off his concern as if it was no more than a pesky fly in the way. “They would be thrilled to see you and me together. Then we truly would be family.”

  There was something in her voice that made him uncomfortable. A note of hope, maybe? Still, he smiled. “That’s important to you, isn’t it?”

  She stared. “Family is important. Isn’t it important to everyone?”

  “No.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. “Not everyone.”

  “Julian, I didn’t mean it that way.” Her gloved hand came to rest on his for the briefest of moments before she lifted it away.

  He wished she’d put her hand back where it was, and he felt like an ass for being so sharp with her. Glancing over at her, he replied, “Besides, you don’t know half of the secrets that ran through my family.”

  Her gaze remained direct. “So share them with me.”

  If only it were that simple. If only he could just unburden himself and be done with it. He shook his head, turning away. “They were not meant to be shared. With anyone.”

  “Oh, come now, that’s silly. You would rather remain alone than trust me with your secrets? That sounds so lonely for you. No wife. No children. That’s no way to live.”

  “First you want me to court Rose Adams. And now what? Are you suggesting we should marry? You, Miss McKenzie, have grown into a very fickle woman.” It came out harsher than he intended, but she had to see that her girlish infatuation with him could never come to pass.

  She didn’t answer, but the blooming color in her cheeks spoke volumes. Her pale skin betrayed her so easily with those blushes. “I didn’t say that,” she muttered.

  He hadn’t forgotten the words she had said that day at the wishing well. No. Said wasn’t the right word. She had blurted them, as if she’d had them stuffed down inside her for so long that she lost the ability to control them, and they just popped out.

  I love you.

  The only woman to ever say those words to him without wanting anything in return for them. His mother wanted to be reassured that her only child loved her more than he did his father. His father didn’t care if anyone loved anyone else. He wanted Julian to do as he was told and take over the family shipping company. The women in port, the few that there were, all had one thing on their mind—and marriage wasn’t it.

  But Emma made herself clear. And if he could, he’d offer her the same love she wanted to give. Unfortunately, he couldn’t. Love wasn’t something with which he was familiar. Lust was easy, love was not. At least, not for him.

  And then there were her brothers. Drew and Garrett made it plainly clear over the years that he was to keep their sister at arm’s length or he’d find himself pounded into mincemeat. Tiny bites of mincemeat. Mincemeat that would be fed to the horses the next day.

  He shuddered to think.

  By now, the coach’s interior was too dark to make out anything more than shadows. Wool rubbed rough against linen, which in turn rustled against the seat, and he knew she’d shifted position. It was just as well he couldn’t see her face. Her face was no longer that of a child, and there was no reason why he couldn’t approach her. No reason aside from irate male McKenzies, that is.

  Rain continued to sheet against the windows, the tinkling louder now. Freezing rain again. The weather was not going to cooperate with his plans, and he had the feeling he was passing Christmas in Brunswick, whether he wished to or not. He’d have to send
word to Percival and hope the man was willing to work with him anyway. He didn’t want to lose the business.

  Percival was the only one to show much interest in Julian’s new designs, as he was a bit of a risk-taker—one with deep pockets to boot. If Percival liked what he saw, it wouldn’t be long before Chelten would be flooded with orders. And then Julian would be able to leave for Europe and try to work his magic there as well. Chelten was on its way to being a great success, if he could convince Percival.

  Chapter Six

  EMMA SAT CURLED ON THE SOFA in the parlor, a book in her lap, and wrapped in a quilt. Although she’d been there most of the day, she couldn’t recall reading any words. Instead, she watched the flames dance on the hearth and listened to the pattering rain give way to softly shifting snow, lost in the events of the last few days.

  When they had arrived at Stonebridge, Rose was gone, taken home by Joseph. With the weather so foul, Emma couldn’t call on her, so she didn’t know if George had come to any decision, or if Rose was even still speaking to her.

  Julian made himself scarce as well. She didn’t know if he was in town or somewhere in the main house, or if he’d moved to the room behind the stables, where George the groom lived. All she knew was she’d come so close to fulfilling the dream she’d had since she was twelve. Julian wanted her. He wanted her enough to kiss her. He’d noticed she was no longer a little girl.

  She frowned. He still hadn’t agreed to help her. Maybe he would have, if they hadn’t been interrupted…She leaned her head back against the sofa. How the devil was she going to get him to agree, when she couldn’t even pin him down long enough to speak with him?

  Her ears perked up as the front doors slammed shut and heavy footfalls sounded in the front hall.

  “Anyone here?”

  “You know, I think they’ve all gone off and left.”

  “Garrett! Drew!” She tossed her book onto the table and shoved the quilt aside, nearly tripping over her skirts in her haste to reach the hall. Both of her brothers stood there, snow clinging to their broad shoulders, whitening their dark hair, and she didn’t know which one to hug first.

  Being the oldest, Garrett won. She threw herself at him. “I didn’t think either of you would make it home in such terrible weather.”

  “I can’t speak for him, but I wasn’t going to disappoint Momma this Christmas. Not like last year.”

  “You mean when you disappointed her by staying in the West Indies?” Drew asked in a droll voice. “And what was her name again?”

  “Enough.” Garrett set her down then turned to his brother. “Papa asked me to stay and help him tie up the loose—oh, bloody hell, why am I even wasting my breath on this?”

  “Because you know he had hoped you’d finally stop running and settle down with whatever her name was,” Drew retorted, raising one brow at him. “Too bad he didn’t know she’d already settled down with someone else.”

  “Ah, it was just as well. Another week or so and she’d have driven me mad.”

  “Momma would box your ears if she knew you were having this discussion in front of me,” Emma broke in.

  With that, Momma’s joyous cry came from the top of the staircase, followed by the clatter of her footsteps on the stairs. “Drew! Garrett! You’re home.”

  “Obviously,” Drew drawled. At almost five inches above six feet, he completely towered over his mother, who barely reached his chest.

  Emma smiled as he lifted their mother like she weighed nothing. She almost disappeared in his embrace, swallowed up by his massive arms.

  When it was his turn, Garrett did the same, swallowing her in his embrace. “Where’s Mary?”

  “She’s in the sewing room,” Emma replied as Momma freed herself from Garrett’s arms and stepped back. “Working on her gown for the Christmas party. You know how she is, no matter how nice it looks, it isn’t quite nice enough. I figure at the rate she’s going, she’ll perfect it for next Christmas.”

  “Now, now, Em.” Momma wagged a scolding finger at her. “Just because you’d rather sit and read, that’s no reason to poke fun.”

  They made their way from the hall to the beckoning coziness of the parlor.

  “I thought I saw the Amelia in port.” Garrett was the first one to cross into the parlor. “Is McCallister here?”

  “He and your father are in your father’s office, discussing some business of utmost importance.” Momma grinned. “I don’t know what it is, but they both looked so serious, I figure it must be a matter of life or death. Either that, or brandy.”

  That explained why she hadn’t seen either Julian or her father all morning. But what business could they have? Maybe Eagleton did need new ships. And perhaps her father was as fascinated as she was by the drawing she’d seen on Julian’s desk.

  Drew sighed. “It feels good to be on dry land again. This storm’s engulfed most of the coast. How was it coming down?”

  “Rough around the Cape, but otherwise, I had clear weather. It was a little dicey, maneuvering into the bay and into my slip, but aside from a few scrapes on the hull, the Pegasus made it fine.”

  Emma tuned out the rest of their conversation as they passed by her father’s office. The closed door muffled their voices, but it didn’t sound as if there were any life-or-death matters being discussed. They might just be indulging in some brandy. Too bad she couldn’t slow down without drawing attention to herself. What where they discussing in there?

  “Drew! Garrett! I thought I heard you!” Mary darted into the parlor in a blur of dark green and ivory.

  “Did you finish your gown?” Emma settled back into her quilt.

  “Not yet.” Her nose wrinkled. “The lace is giving me a devil of a time. Amanda is up there now wrestling about with it.”

  “Spare us, please,” Garrett groaned, sinking into one of the maroon leather chairs he’d dragged nearer the hearth. He stretched his long legs across the hearthrug, crossing them at the ankles. “Drew, did you know I had the most difficult time trying to decide which stock to wear?” He fingered the white neckcloth. “I simply couldn’t decide which looked better: the white, or the white.”

  “I know what you mean.” Drew did the same, stroking his own stock as if it were made of the finest silk. “I thought about leaving it off, but how horribly unfashionable that would make me. And however would I land a wife, being so unfashionable and all that?”

  “Momma!” Mary wailed.

  Emma bit back a smile.

  “Enough,” Momma admonished. Then her smile broke through. “Let’s wait an hour or so before the bickering starts, shall we? In the meantime, you boys must be chilled, so why don’t we have some tea?”

  Garrett rubbed his hands together. “If it’s all the same, I’d prefer coffee.”

  “I’ll go find Amanda and have both brought in.” Emma threw off the quilt once more. “Don’t start bickering again until I return, if you don’t mind.”

  “Go tap on Papa’s door and let him and Mr. McCallister know Garrett and Drew are home.”

  “Yes, Momma.”

  As she approached the closed door of her father’s office, Emma realized the voices were even lower. At least they weren’t arguing. Still, her heart hammered against her ribs as she rapped on the wood and those voices fell silent.

  “Come in,” her father called.

  She opened the door and smiled. The massive oak desk separating Papa and Julian was a mess of papers, but no glasses stood among the clutter. Neither man looked angry or even unhappy. Papa’s silver hair poked up in odd directions, as if he’d been running his fingers through it, but Julian looked perfectly at ease. A friendly discussion, obviously, and an interruption that wasn’t minded. “Momma sent me to fetch you. Drew and Garrett are home.”

  A look of relief came over her father’s face. “At least I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” He rose from his chair. “I think we were just about finished here as it was, don’t you think?” This was directed at Julian.

&
nbsp; He nodded. “We are. And I thank you for your time, Captain McKenzie.”

  “Think nothing of it. It gave me a good excuse to stay home in such awful weather.” Papa chuckled as he clapped Julian’s shoulder.

  Emma stepped aside to allow them both to pass. As they did, Julian replied, “This awful weather is working against me. I was hoping to be able to sail north, but that doesn’t look likely.”

  Whatever her father’s response was, Emma didn’t hear it as they rounded the corner. Disappointment fluttered through her, although she wasn’t exactly certain why. What did she expect? A wink? A secret smile? Something that showed her Julian was still thinking about their almost-kiss almost as much as she was?

  But it didn’t seem that he was thinking about it at all. Perhaps their moment had been and gone and she’d missed making the most of it. If only it hadn’t been for Mr. Carter. She scowled. It was his fault for interrupting them that way.

  She made her way to the kitchen. No. She couldn’t blame Mr. Carter. The only thing he was guilty of was poor timing. Much like how she’d discovered George’s betrayal of Rose. Poor timing.

  “Rose should thank me,” she muttered. “I kept her from chaining herself to that faithless jackanapes.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Cook asked, looking up from the long, scarred worktable where she sat slicing onions. The tang of cut onions hung in the air, and Cook’s eyes were red and weepy. Emma sniffed as her nose began to run. How many onions did one stew need?

  She sniffed again, and now her eyes stung. “Where is Amanda? We would like some tea and coffee in the parlor.”

  “I believe she is in the dining room, Miss McKenzie.”

  It took several more minutes of searching before she found Amanda and returned to the parlor. By then, her entire family had gathered, and she stood in the doorway, smiling. Having everyone there was such a rarity these days and, despite his insistence to the contrary, Julian looked as much a part of the family as either of her brothers. With any luck, the snow would continue, and he would remain in Brunswick just a little longer.