Read Kimberly Nee - The McKenzie Brothers Online
Authors: Playing,Fire
Chapter Twenty-Five
Heather spent the next week secluded in her room at Christina’s, ignoring both Christina and Jeremy as they took turns banging on the locked door. She remained by the window, hoping to see Drew racing up on his black horse. After a week, she gave up hope.
She sighed, watching the rain sluice down the rippled windowpane. “I suppose that is that,” she murmured, turning away from the window. “I’ve no idea what I am going to do. I’ve no money, no way to return home.”
She wasn’t too surprised that she viewed her dilemma with such calmness. After all, this wasn’t her most pressing trouble. She’d finally discovered the cause of her never-ending nausea.
She was pregnant.
At first, when she’d calculated her dates and realized she’d skipped the last month, she denied it. Her sickness was from readjusting to life on land, or perhaps from the strange foods she arrived in America. Finally, there was nothing left to do but admit the inevitable.
She was going to bear Drew’s child.
The revelation brought tears to her eyes but surprisingly, they were not tears of regret. If anything, her condition s made her feel closer to him, even though she knew he was not coming back.
She missed him terribly. It was a phantom pain, constantly there, always aching and with no relief forthcoming. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him as he was that last night she’d spent with him.
Now, as she sat by the window, she pressed her fingertips to her lips, remembering the joy of his kisses. She loved him. She missed him. She was afraid she’d never see him again.
A gentle hand rapped on the door. “Heather? Please, open the door.”
She sighed, rising and crossing over to twist the key. “Yes?”
Christina’s crystal blue eyes filled with concern. “Won’t you please come into town with me? You need to get out of this room, even if only for a short while.”
“I don’t need anything in town,” she replied dully.
“Perhaps we can find Drew and you two can talk this out.”
“There is nothing for us to discuss,” Heather said, shaking her head.
“Of course there is. Heather, this is madness. You need to talk to him.”
She sighed softly, shaking her head. “No. I don’t, Christina. He made himself quite clear. He has nothing left to say to me.”
Christina moved to sit on the edge of the neatly made bed. “Heather, I know I have not known you that long. I’d wager you view me as something of a rival, do you not?”
Heather sighed. What did she have to lose? She’d already lost the most important thing to her. What was left? “Yes. I suppose I do, in a way.”
Christina gave her a knowing smile, smoothing a hand over the flowered chintz quilt covering the bed. “I thought as much. I would most likely feel the same. But, I can assure you, I am no such thing. Drew and I share a history, that is true, but now it’s only friendship and that’ll not change. We were young and impulsive and quickly learned we were much better suited as friends.”
Christina’s admission eased her mind, but not nearly enough. She pulled out the vanity bench, a lovely embroidered tapestry thickly stuffed and quite comfortable to sit upon. “You don’t understand, Christina. He does not want me.”
“Of course he does! What on earth would make you think otherwise?” She looked shocked. “Anyone would have to be an utter fool to suggest something so ludicrous.”
Heather remembered his heated words, the way he stormed out of the house in a fury. “No. You did not see him. It’s too late. Those were his exact words. He despises me now.”
“Well, I find
that
hard to believe. What could possibly have happened to make him turn in such a manner?”
She felt heat creep into her cheeks. “He caught Jeremy trying to kiss me.”
Christina’s eyes went perfectly round and her jaw went slack. “Jeremy did
what
?”
With a heavy sigh, Heather explained to her what had happened that terrible afternoon. Christina’s face reddened with fury. “I will kill him. I will absolutely
kill
him. What on earth was Jeremy
thinking
, that fool horse’s ass?”
Heather forgot her nausea as she stared. She’d assumed Christina would side with her brother, no matter what. To her surprise, blood was not thicker than water this time.
“And Drew walked in so everything makes sense. Absolutely perfect sense.”
“Why?”
Christina gave her an odd look. “Well, Bridget, of course.”
“Bridget? What does she have to do with anything?”
She took a deep breath. “Hasn’t Drew told you about Bridget?”
“No. Jeremy started to tell me, but then said it wasn’t his business, that I ought hear the story from Drew. Drew would only say that he’d been betrothed to a woman and that the betrothal had been broken. He wouldn’t even tell me her name. Jeremy did.”
Heather lifted the heavy gilt hairbrush from the vanity’s gleaming oak surface and brushed some imaginary dust from its back. “And since he would not say a word, you can imagine how much I know about her. I know he loves her. I found a note in his cabin on board the
Triton
from her that he kept tucked into a book.”
“Heather, I’m not entirely sure how to make you believe this, but Drew does
not
love Bridget. Of that, I am certain.”
“That’s exactly what Jeremy told me, but how can that be possible if he’s keeping notes from her?”
“Are you certain he even knew a note was there? Bridget was a sneaky wench, you know. Sneaky and rotten and you’re sorely mistaken if you think he still carries a torch for her. Sorely mistaken indeed. He despises her, if anything.”
Heather sat upright, the brush ignored in her lap. “What?”
Christina nodded, smoothing the wrinkles from the quilt. “Oh, yes, Heather. I’m surprised he never told you. At least then you’d know why his catching you and Jeremy upset him so.”
“He is being a stubborn mule,” Heather muttered, setting the brush back on the vanity. “He wouldn’t let me explain. Simply refused to listen.”
“I can’t say I blame him.” As Heather began to protest, Christina held up a hand. “That’s not what I mean. Let me explain the scenario to you and you can draw your own conclusions.”
She listened patiently as Christina said, “For his entire life, Drew has always been in his brother’s shadow. Garrett’s older and was considered the most eligible bachelor in Brunswick until he married last year. I don’t think it ever really troubled Drew, until he met Bridget.”
Christina shook her head slowly and anger crept into her voice. “She was determined to marry into the McKenzie family, no matter what. Now, she did succeed in getting Drew to propose to her, but he didn’t know that he’d been her second choice.”
“What?” Heather couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice.
“Exactly. They were at a ball celebrating their upcoming wedding, which was only a few weeks away. He overheard her boasting to her friends that she didn’t mind having to settle for him. At least she would bear the McKenzie name. But since Drew wasn’t her first choice, she had no intention of giving up her other lovers for him. Lovers he knew nothing about.”
“She actually said she had to
settle
for him? She was toying with him the entire time?” Anger sliced through Heather like a sharp knife. “And he heard this, did he?”
Christina nodded solemnly. “That he did. Of course, he got his revenge — sweet revenge at that, but she’d taken him for a fool and nothing made up for that. She thought nothing of using him. He put his trust in her and she threw that trust right back in his face.”
“Oh my,” Heather whispered, fingers pressed to her lips. “And then when he came in here…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.
Christina nodded. “And he saw you with Jeremy — well, I’d say he reacted based on what had happened in the past.”
She thought about that for a moment. Was it possible? Could he really think she would betray him in such a vile manner? Hot anger swept through her. How could he have so little faith in her to think she would do such a thing?
“I ought to box his ears,” she muttered, shaking her head. “How could he think that about me?”
“I think his reaction was understandable, if a bit extreme.”
“He wouldn’t even let me explain. He just grew furious and stormed out of here.” Heather got to her feet and jammed them into her sturdy walking boots. “Well, I’ll simply have to set him straight.”
Christina smiled as she rose from the bed. “That’s the spirit. Shall we go into town? The rain has stopped and the sun has come out. We can stop by Eagleton and see if he’s there.”
Heather paused. Stop at Eagleton? To do that seemed so forward, seeking him out in such a manner. “Are you certain that’s a good idea?”
“There’s nothing improper about paying a call, if that’s what you mean. I’m a perfectly acceptable chaperone, don’t you think?” Christina gave her a wicked smile. “After all, I’m a respected widow.”
“Well, I suppose that would be acceptable,” she replied slowly. Her bonnet lay on the chest at the foot of her bed, so she lifted it to pull it on.
Christina gave her a quick hug. “Everything will work out, Heather. You’ll see. Things always have a way of working themselves out.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Drew entered the library at Stonebridge, where he found his mother curled up on the blue damask sofa with a book. Rebecca McKenzie smiled up at her youngest son as she closed the book, placing it on the rosewood table in front of the sofa. “What is on your mind, Drew?”
He sank down into one of the rich leather chairs on the far side of the table. “Nothing, Momma.”
Her aqua eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t look like nothing to me. You’ve been moping around here ever since you returned from England. I thought you wanted to come home?”
He glanced around the room, which was the most comfortable in the house, with warm yellow walls and stained maple exposed beams.
Most of the space on the built-in shelves was taken up by books with rich leather bindings, their titles in gold along the spines. Among the literary treasures were miniature oils of the four McKenzie children at various ages, all in gilt frames, along with various other collectibles gathered by the three generations of McKenzies who’d occupied Stonebridge.
“I did wish to come home,” he said to his mother now, drumming his fingertips on the armrest of the chair.
“So why the moping then?” She leaned forward to lift the silver tea urn and pour herself a cup. “Would you care for a cup?”
“Thank you, no.”
She frowned, but didn’t press the issue. She doctored her tea with a lump of sugar, a dollop of cream, then dipped a silver teaspoon into the brew. “So, are you going to tell me? Or do I have to guess?”
He had no intention of spilling his problems to his mother. His father? Perhaps. Garrett? Most likely. But he didn’t feel comfortable sharing his feelings with his mother.
His had been a terrible week. One of the worst he could remember. The dull ache he constantly carried within his heart refused to abate. He couldn’t think about anything other than Heather. She hounded his thoughts and haunted his dreams. Several times, he found himself on Samson, heading in the direction of Christina Anderson’s house, but always stopped before he was even halfway there. He doubted Heather would receive him and he couldn’t blame her.
“It’s nothing. Honest.”
She frowned. “You don’t sound as if nothing’s wrong, dear. You’ve been dragging about like you’ve lost a limb and I
know
that isn’t the case.”
He sighed. “I don’t know what to do with myself, I suppose. We’ve a shipment of rice coming up from the Carolinas, but that won’t be here for another week or so. There’s a shipment of indigo I need see off to London, but aside from that, all’s quiet right now.”
“Well, that always happens this time of the year. Things will pick up once the fall arrives. But, I get the feeling that is not what is lying so heavily on your mind.”
“Momma, if you don’t mind, it’s nothing I wish to discuss right now.”
She sighed, setting her cup in its saucer. “Ah,” she said with a knowing grin, “
those
sort of problems. I see.”
He had the uncomfortable feeling his mother knew
exactly
what his problem was. She always seemed to possess a sixth sense where her children were concerned. He shifted in his chair, as if that would make her sense less accurate.
When he didn’t answer, she shook her head. “Very well. I suppose you will work everything out on your own, eventually. But, if you ever feel the need — ”
He finished her sentence for her. “I know where to find you. I know.”
“Mister Drew?”
He turned to see Martha in the doorway. “Yes, Martha?”
“Mister Allen to see you.”
“I’m not here.” Jeremy was the last person he wished to see. In fact, he didn’t care if he ever spoke to Jeremy again. The hurt was still too raw for him to even contemplate. Each time he thought about his former friend, he could see Heather in Jeremy’s arms and fury surged through him again.
“He says it’s important, Mister Drew.” Martha gave him a rueful smile. “Boy looks close to tears, to tell you the truth.”
He sighed. “Very well, Martha. I’ll be right there.”
Rebecca’s blue eyes lit up suddenly. “Why do I think Mr. Allen has something to do with this?”
“Please, let’s drop it, shall we?” He pushed himself up from the chair and moved to the doorway. “Don’t trouble yourself, Momma. As you said, everything will work itself out eventually.”
That was what he kept telling himself.
He left the library to go down the corridor toward the front doors. Eventually, the dull ache would fade. Eventually, his arms would not feel so empty. Eventually he would forget Heather Morgan ever brought such joy and brightness to his life.
Like hell he would.
He scowled as he caught sight of Jeremy standing by the front door, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. When he looked up and saw Drew, his face went ashen.
“What do you want?” Drew asked shortly, stopping just out of arm’s reach of Jeremy. Any closer, and he would not be able to resist the urge to punch his face in.
Jeremy cleared his throat. “Drew, I — I just wanted to explain what you saw the other afternoon.”
“There is nothing to explain. I know what I saw.”
“No,” Jeremy said softly, shaking his head. “You only know what you
think
you saw.”
Fury poked up its ugly little head once more. Drew’s hands tightened into fists and the muscles in his arms tensed. “Is that a fact?”
“Yes.” Jeremy’s voice faded and he licked his lips as if trying to buck up his courage. “Drew, Heather — ”
“Don’t even say her name.” Drew stepped closer to Jeremy, who recoiled.
“You need to listen to me. Heather did nothing but try to push me away.”
“Is that so?”
“Y-yes.”
He snatched Jeremy up by his shirtfront, hauling the much smaller man off his feet. “I’m afraid I don’t see it that way,
Jer
.”
Jeremy’s eyes hardened and he scowled. “It’s the truth, Drew,” he growled, even as his feet dangled a good three inches from the floor. “She kept saying no, scooting away from me, trying to find some way to push me away.”
“Why would you do such a thing?” he rumbled, yanking Jeremy closer, so their noses practically touched.
“Because I couldn’t help myself.” Jeremy tried to bend Drew’s thumb back, to force him to relinquish his hold. “I suppose I felt sorry for her. You weren’t there, you dumb ox, and — will you let go of me already?”
Drew winced as Jeremy managed to break his grip and a sharp pain shot through his thumb. “You son of a bitch.”
With his other hand, Drew yanked open the door. Ignoring the ache in his thumb, he twisted a handful of Jeremy’s shirtfront and hurled.
Jeremy went airborne, hitting the top step of the portico and hurtling down the remaining three steps to crash into a heap in the dirt of the drive.
“You touch her again, and I
will
kill you,” Drew glared down at him from the doorway, his hands in tight fists on his hips.
“That’s why I’m here, you jackass.” Jeremy pulled himself to his feet and brushed the dirt from the seat of his trousers. “She’s miserable, Drew. Why would you do that to her? Why not believe her? Why not believe
me
?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
“The hell it isn’t now.” He swiped a hand along the dusty sleeve of his frock coat. “You are an ass. Not every woman is Bridget. Heather is the farthest thing from Bridget as you can get, but you’re too bull-headed to see that for yourself! She doesn’t want anyone else, Drew. For some strange reason, she cares about you. I’d even say she loves you. But you just can’t accept that, can you?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Jeremy. I suggest you shut your mouth before you say something you regret.”
Jeremy stopped brushing and let out a rueful chuckle. “Unbelievable. Do you even hear what I’m saying? She’s miserable. Absolutely miserable. Sits in her room, by her window all day. Won’t come out. Won’t eat. Just mopes about all day long. She loves you, you jackass, and you’re going to risk losing that because you’re too proud to admit that you just
might
be wrong about something. Well, you
are
wrong. She is
not
Bridget. She doesn’t care about anything but you and you’re simply going to let her slip away.”
Jeremy’s words penetrated Drew’s anger, cut through and softened it. “Are you certain about this?”
“Drew, I was an ass for even trying to kiss her. I don’t know what I was thinking. But, she made herself perfectly clear.
You’re
the one she wants. The
only
one. Now, go and tell her why you reacted the way you did. Tell her about Bridget, will you already? For once and for all, clear the air. For God’s sake, don’t let her get away from you or else you’ll regret this for the rest of your days.”
Any remaining anger drained away in an icy rush. The chill tore through him with the realization that he’d made a terrible mistake, hadn’t even given her the chance to explain. He was so determined he was right, that nothing else mattered. He’d been an ass, as Jeremy had been kind enough to point out, and had hurt her deeply with his lack of faith. The question was, would she even been willing to listen to him now?
He cringed, remembering the look of horror, of fury, on her face at his accusations. He groaned, rubbing his forehead with one hand as he sank down onto the top step. “I already regret what I’ve done.”
“Then go to her. Tell her.”
“I’m not at all certain she will even receive me.”
Jeremy sat down beside him. “She and Christina were going into town. Go. Now.”
Drew sighed softly. “I hope you don’t expect me to apologize.”
“Not at all. I deserve a thrashing for what I did.” Jeremy gave him a sheepish smile. “And why are you wasting time sitting here? Go.”
“I am.” Drew pushed up from the step and as fast as he could make his legs work, hurried to the stable and Samson.
Heather’s stomach twisted as she gazed up at the weathered warehouse that housed Eagleton’s home office. She turned to Christina. “Would you mind waiting here?”
“Not at all. Now go. Before your courage fails you.”
Heather stepped down from the coach, out into the hot sun. She gave a resolute tug on her bonnet ribbons as she walked toward the building. Above the door, a sign bearing Eagleton Imports’ image marked the entrance.
Despite all the rain, the air was still stifling. If anything, there was even more moisture in it. Dampness lay heavily against her cheeks, making her even more uncomfortable than her queasy belly did. The heat sapped every last bit of energy right out of her.
Inside, a steep flight of narrow stairs awaited her. At the top, a second door, propped open by a large gray rock, led to the offices.
Two men sat within the small, square room, one on either side of a narrow oak desk. They looked up as she crossed the threshold, halting their conversation.
“May I help you?”
Heather knew at once she was speaking with Garrett McKenzie. The resemblance was striking, though Garrett was neither as tall nor as broad as Drew. He was just as handsome though, with his wavy dark hair and golden brown eyes.
The other man could only be described as breathtaking. He was about the same height as Garrett, but his features were so perfect she couldn’t help but stare for a long moment. His hair was dark brown, almost black, and his eyes even darker. They reminded her of polished black opals.
Both were looking at her now with a mixture of confusion and surprise, and Garrett repeated his question.
“Oh, yes. Of course. I apologize,” she began, the nervous kinks tightening in her stomach, threatening to cut off her air supply. She couldn’t believe her own daring, being there without a chaperone. Still, desperate situations and all…She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I am looking for Drew McKenzie. Might he be here?”
Garrett smiled, a knowing look in his eyes as he rose from his chair to lean over the desk. “You must be Heather Morgan. Am I right?”