Kimberly Nee - The McKenzie Brothers Page 6

  She could only imagine the seamstress’s response when confronted with the option of finishing the order within two days, or risk losing it altogether. Mary Cartwright must have spent several sleepless nights sewing away, most likely with several disgruntled employees toiling with her.

  “I can imagine how happy she must have been.”

  Drew gave her his most charming grin. “Could you argue with this face?”

  “Am I in the position to argue with you?”

  “I’ve told you, several times now, that if you wish to disagree with me about something, feel free to do so. I like a woman with spirit. Sometimes, there is nothing quite like a good argument. The making up part is usually enjoyable.”

  She wasn’t entirely certain how to respond to that, but assumed the blush climbing into her cheeks was answer enough.

  Drew must have thought so as well, for he threw his head back and laughed. “Ah, we do have to do something about those blushes, love. They give far too much away.” His eyes lingered on hers for a moment. “Then again, perhaps we don’t. They are adorable.”

  Her blush grew hotter still and she wished — not for the first time — she hadn’t been blessed with such fair skin. They spent the rest of the ride to the docks in comfortable silence. When they arrived, Drew exited the coach and turned to offer her his arm.

  Heather slipped her arm through his and allowed him to steer her in the direction of the berths. This was her first trip to London’s docks and although she could barely stomach the smells, the ships berthed there fascinated her. She’d never seen a ship up close, and craned her neck to take it all in. Her gait threw off her balance, and she stumbled, nearly falling clear into the gutter as she was too busy gawking up to look ahead.

  Drew caught her. “Careful, love.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, still staring up. “This place is amazing. I’ve never seen such bustle.”

  “I imagine a lady such as yourself has not spent much time at the docks.”

  “It wasn’t high on my list of places to spend my leisure time.”

  Drew moved briskly through the throng of people milling about. Heather held tight to his arm, afraid that if they were separated, she would never be able to find him. It was silly, for he towered over most of the men in the crowd, but the fear plagued her just the same.

  “G’day, love. Buy a drink for a lady?”

  Heather twisted her head. A heavily rouged blonde strutted toward them. The gown she wore reminded Heather of the one she wore for the auction. More negligee than dress, it was extremely low-cut, in the fashion of an earlier decade, and the woman had dampened the worn muslin to make it cling to her bony figure. The woman reminded Heather of the portrait of her grandmother that hung in the drawing room at Waterbury. Helene Morgan had been something of a scandal in her day — when it was all the rage for women to dampen their muslins to make them clingier.

  The woman sidled up to Drew as if Heather was invisible, slipping her arm through his. “Buy a drink for a lady, love?”

  He untangled her arm from his. “Not interested.”

  The woman pouted, refusing to let go of him. “It’s only a drink.”

  “Take your hand from me for if I have to, trust me, you will sail without a ship.”

  The woman frowned at him. “No need to be nasty.” She tossed her stringy blonde hair over one shoulder and sauntered off, calling out, “Buy a drink for a lady?”

  Heather shook her head. “Sad creature.”

  Drew scowled. “Annoying creature. They swarm these docks, preying on sailors fresh off of ships and desperate for any sort of female attention, no matter how low.”

  She bit the inside of her lower lip, not wanting to remind him of where he first met her. Only twisted luck saved her from having to troll the docks as a common strumpet.

  She glanced up at him to see his eyes still glittered with irritation. “You don’t know the reason she is walking these slips, Drew. Perhaps she has no other means to support herself. Or — or perhaps she has children to think of.”

  Drew shrugged. “Or, perhaps not. You don’t know either.”

  “Oh! Men are all alike, aren’t they? It’s fine for you to leap into bed with whomever catches your eye! But when a woman does there is something wrong with her.”

  “I never said that. This is your first venture into this part of London, but I pass through here on a somewhat regular occurrence. Which of us would know better?”

  She stopped in her tracks. “Is that how you see me, then? After all, I might have been in a fancier setting, but what she is selling is no different, is it?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know exactly what I am talking about.”

  “You are nothing like that woman, Heather. Nothing at all.”

  “Oh, is that a fact? Need I remind you of how I came to be in your company?” She stared at him with hard eyes, hands on her hips.

  Drew blushed, the color rising in his swarthy cheeks. “No,” he replied with a sigh. “No, I don’t suppose you need remind me.”

  “So is that how you see me?”

  “Do you truly need me to answer that? Do you think I would have asked you to accompany me to America if I saw you as nothing more than a whore?”

  The words hit her like a blow to the chin, and for a long, painful beat, she forgot to breathe. She could do nothing but stare at him, unable to believe he’d just tossed that at her.

  He must have realized how he sounded, for he reached for her. “Heather, I didn’t mean it that way and you know it.”

  “Really? I’m not so certain you didn’t mean it that way. How else could you mean it? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

  He sighed. “Heather — ”

  She turned away from him to stare straight ahead. “Where is your ship?”

  “Heather — ”

  “Your ship, please.”

  Muttering something beneath his breath, he pointed to a three-masted vessel bobbing in the next slip over. “That is the Triton.”

  She gazed up at the ship. Although she knew nothing about them, she couldn’t help but think it beautiful. Its hull gleamed proudly, and she could almost imagine the snowy white sails billowing as the wind swept along the docks, urging the ships to leave their slips. High above, the decks were alive with activity. Men swarmed them, reading the Triton for the voyage across the Atlantic.

  Drew led her to the gangplank and she set foot on board a ship for the first time in her life.

  Almost immediately, one of the men came up to them. “Afternoon, Captain McKenzie. Beautiful day to take to the sea, don’t you think?”

  Drew returned the man’s smile. “Couldn’t ask for better, Mr. Aldridge. Is everything ready?”

  “Just about, Captain. Me and Scottie have the last few crates to batten down, and then she’ll be ready to go.”

  “Good. Get on with it, then.” He turned to her. “Miss Morgan, this is Bobby Aldridge. Bobby, Miss Morgan.”

  Bobby’s keen blue eyes lingered on her for a moment. “A pleasure, miss.”

  “A pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Aldridge.”

  Bobby’s smile put her at ease and she returned it. Drew’s arm tensed and he cleared his throat. “The crates?”

  “Oh, yes. Of course, Captain.” Bobby jerked to attention as he turned back to his captain. “We’ll get right on it, sir.”

  “Good. Now, fetch Henry and have him escort Miss Morgan to my cabin.” Drew turned to her again. “I’ve a few loose ends to wrap up on shore, Heather. I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour or so. Make yourself comfortable and let Henry know if there is anything you need. Bobby, while I am ashore, keep an eye on Henry and make it clear to him that Miss Morgan is to have anything she asks for.”

  “Yes, sir.” Bobby dashed off, returning several moments later with a tall, sinewy man who was at most only a few years older than she was.

  “You wished to see me, Captain
McKenzie?”

  “Henry, escort Miss Morgan to my cabin.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  Heather shrank beneath Henry’s penetrating icy-blue stare. He didn’t look happy with his assignment. “Come along.”

  Drew caught Heather’s arm, leaning close to brush her lips with a quick kiss. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  Before she could reply, he was striding across the deck and disappearing down the gangplank, leaving her with Henry. Was his kiss for Henry’s benefit? A smirk rose to the man’s lips and a nasty gleam lit his eyes.

  “So it’s like that, is it?” he sneered, all politeness gone now that his captain’s eyes were no longer on him. “Well, let’s get you down, shall we?”

  Heather felt a twinge of apprehension as she reluctantly followed him through a doorway and down one flight of narrow steps, then another. Henry remained silent, not troubling to even peer over one shoulder to make certain she was still there.

  Finally, he stopped before a closed door. Taking a brass ring from his belt, he flipped through the numerous keys until he found the one he was looking for.

  He unlocked the door and, with a flick of his bony wrist, swung it open. “Captain McKenzie’s cabin,” he said shortly, giving her an unfriendly look. “And don’t think to be takin’ anything of his, either. I know what’s in here, and where everthin’s kept. I’m going to know if anything’s missin’.”

  She couldn’t believe the man’s cheek. Lifting her chin slightly, she mustered up as much dignity as she could. “And you can rest assured, sir, that you’ve nothing to worry about. I will, however, be speaking to Captain McKenzie about your insinuations.”

  Henry didn’t look perturbed as he leaned against the doorframe. “Aye, I’ll wager you will. I’ve been with Captain McKenzie for some time now. I also know what type of — shall we say, lady? — would share the cabin of a man she isn’t married to.”

  “And how is it you know I’ve not married the Captain?”

  “For starters, he introduced you as Morgan, not McKenzie. Secondly, the captain isn’t a marrying man. Third, you aren’t wearing a wedding ring. So, you just watch your step, miss.”

  “I suggest the same for you,” she retorted, glaring at him. “You have no idea to whom you are speaking or you would surely never adopt this tone.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “I ought to know a whore when I see one.”

  Heather could not have possibly heard him correctly. “I beg your pardon?”

  He was nonplussed. “You heard me. Now, I’ve got work to do.”

  With that, he turned and stomped away. Henry’s taunt still ringing in her ears, Heather stepped into the cabin and slammed the door as much fury as she could muster.

  “Of all the nerve!” Her stomach roiled painfully, tears pricking her eyes. If he looked down on her, convinced she was a strumpet, would the others do so as well?

  And what about Drew’s family? How would he explain her presence to them? Would they, too, take one look at her and know the truth?

  “So this is how everyone will think,” she whispered to the four walls. “And I suppose I ought become used to everyone treating me as if I am no better than the dirt smudging their shoes?”

  A heavy sigh worked its way free as she glanced around. Drew might not speak of his wealth, but it was apparent in this cabin. Although not large by any means, it was very well appointed and tastefully decorated.

  He’d kept it simple. His desk, the dining table, the wardrobe, and the bed — all bolted to the ship — were light-colored oak with clawed feet and surprisingly delicate scrollwork.

  The desk was littered with papers and charts, quills and bottles of ink. She pulled the chair away from it and sat down, sinking into the rich leather.

  It was odd to be sitting at Drew’s desk, touching his things, seeing this other side of him — the responsible sea captain. She hadn’t missed the respect he commanded from his crew, hadn’t missed how easily he donned the mantle of leadership.

  She ran a finger over the beveled edge of the desk. It was disconcerting. He gave no impression of being the sort who would think nothing of buying a woman. And yet, there she was. He was a responsible, respected businessman and sea captain. So why the devil did he spend all that money for her?

  She thought about what Henry said and her anger returned. Only she directed it at herself. How could she be angry at him? He spoke the truth and the sooner she accepted it, the sooner words such as his wouldn’t sting.

  But how did she do that? She didn’t feel like a fallen woman, didn’t feel weak, or diseased as she’d been told fallen women were. She felt almost the same as she had a week earlier. No. That wasn’t entirely true. She was still furious with her father. If anything, she was even more furious with him now. Henry’s words stoked that fiery anger. Damn her father. This was his fault, really. He’d sold her into her situation. Sold her in order to right his credit at Coal’s. Bastard.

  She sighed softly. “And this is what I am now. This is what I am.”

  Of course, it wasn’t too terrible so far. But still, she needed to speak with Drew to find out exactly what he intended to tell his family once they reached Brunswick. After all, he couldn’t keep her a secret, could he?

  Chapter Ten

  It was nearly suppertime before Drew finished up his business and was back on board the Triton. He checked up on Scottie and Bobby, learned the cargo had been secured in the hold and went in search of Henry.

  “Henry, a word, if you don’t mind,” Drew said as he approached the younger man. Henry Donaldson had started out as his cabin boy, until he grew tired of Henry’s sour disposition. The lad was a decent enough worker so Drew allowed him to stay on as the bosun’s mate. The others grumbled about Henry to him, their complaints escalating to the point where Drew already decided this was to be Henry’s last voyage. He’d already stripped away most of Henry’s duties, while the rest of the crew chose to ignore him overall. It created a bit of tension, but not enough that Drew couldn’t overlook it for now.

  Henry nodded. “Of course, Captain.”

  “I understand you saw Miss Morgan to my cabin. Does she have everything she needs?”

  “Of course, Captain. I wouldn’t be doing my duty if she didn’t.”

  “Did she ask you for anything?”

  “Not a thing, sir.”

  “Have you at least been down to see that all is well?”

  Henry shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “No, sir. I hadn’t realized it was my duty to watch over her.”

  Drew sighed. “I assume Mr. Aldridge told you it was my order to make certain she was comfortable. Didn’t you stop to think that might mean you’d have to go out of your way and check up on her every so often?”

  “My apologies, sir.”

  “Get back to work,” Drew replied shortly, his temper flaring. “Before I decide to put you off right here.”

  Henry shuffled off, leaving Drew to stare at his skinny, receding back. He had to think about replacing Henry. He didn’t know how much longer he could tolerate the lad’s insolence, which had gotten steadily worse over the past year.

  He was still shaking his head when he reached his cabin. The door was closed, but unlocked, and when he rapped on it, he got no response.

  He opened the door. Heather had fallen asleep, stretched out on the bed, and looked peaceful. He paused, hand on the doorknob, and smiled. She looked so comfortable, her chestnut tresses spread over the stark white pillows. Her lashes were sooty crescents against her cheeks and her lips were slightly parted. At once, he had the strongest urge to cover those soft lips with his own.

  Although it was nearly summer, the breeze drifting through the open window was cool. Drew unfolded the light quilt at the foot of the bed and drew it over her. She stretched, sighing and grasping the quilt tighter around her.

  It was hard to believe only a week had passed since that fateful night. He felt as though he’d known her so much longer. He
cast a quick glance over his shoulder. She was unlike any other woman he’d ever met. One moment she displayed a will of iron. The next, she wilted before his eyes. He didn’t understand. She behaved as if she thought he expected complete obedience — as if she was his slave.

  His slave.

  He groaned softly, dropping his head to the desktop. It suddenly made sense. She knew he’d paid that outrageous sum to Coal. So, if Coal more or less owned her, and Drew paid that sum, Heather must feel that now he owned her instead.

  “No wonder she is so hesitant to disagree with me, or is so quick to refer to me as ‘master.’” He lifted his head and rubbed his eyes ruefully. So far, things weren’t turning out the way they were supposed to.

  Drew sat back, wincing as Bridget popped into his mind. He didn’t want to think about her, not now. How could she still appear so easily, when he tried so hard to keep her from his thoughts?

  Heather stirred and Drew turned. She was awake, stretching, then sitting up. “Oh, you’re back.”

  “I’m back. I apologize for the delay. It took longer than I expected.”

  “Have we left yet?”

  He nodded. “We slipped from port about half an hour ago. Would you care to go topside and take a last look around?”

  “Might I?”

  “Certainly.” He pushed himself up from his chair and walked over to the bed. He held out his hand to help her to her feet, drawing her up beside him. “How was your nap?”

  “Refreshing.”

  He sensed she was still troubled, but it didn’t seem that she was still angry with him. Still, it was best to get everything out in the open. That way, he could avoid any unpleasant surprises once the sun set. “I wanted to apologize for my callous remark earlier, Heather. I did not mean it the way it sounded to you.”

  “Really?” Icicles hung from that one word.

  Then again, perhaps she was still angry with him. He sighed.

  “Really. Heather, you don’t have to worry about how I see you. Trust me, you are every inch the lady.” He touched her cheek. Her skin was so soft, he almost couldn’t help himself. It was like a reflex. “I don’t give a damn where you were when we met. It doesn’t matter.”