The McKenzie Brothers: Windemere Part 17

To her surprise, he rolled over atop of her, pinning her beneath him. He said nothing, but gazed down at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. "My wife," he whispered.

Before she could reply, before she could even think, his lips came down onto hers. This was her wedding night, and she wanted nothing to mar it.

Chapter Seventeen.

WHEN EMMA AWOKE THE NEXT MORNING, she was alone. She waited for Amanda to open the door and then remembered she wasn't in her room at Stonebridge. She was in the cozy clapboard house on Witherspoon. Julian's house.

Our house.

The room was chilly, but her dressing gown lay draped over the foot of the bed, and she dove for it, bundling herself in it to ward off the cold. She yelped when her feet touched the floor.

"Mrs. McCallister?" Emma froze at the familiar voice and smiled as she caught sight of Amanda on the other side of the doorway. Well-oiled hinges meant no squeak, which made Amanda even stealthier than normal.

"Amanda? What are you doing here?"

"Mr. McCallister thought you might need me, so he sent a carriage to Stonebridge." Amanda came into the room and moved right to the trunk at the foot of the bed. "You need a proper wardrobe."

"There will be time enough for that when we return from St. Kitts."

"I suppose, but still-" Amanda dove into the trunk, rummaging about until she proclaimed, "Here it is!" She emerged with a day dress of pale green.

"We're leaving in a few days," Emma added as Amanda helped her dress. "I don't have time to do much in the way of shopping for furnis.h.i.+ngs."

"Perhaps I could say something to Mrs. McKenzie and she could-"

"Thank you, but no. I think that's something I should do for myself."

"What is something you should do for yourself?"

Both women spun about as Julian came into the room. "Mr. McCallister, you really should knock. What if she was undressed?" Amanda scolded.

Emma held her breath, waiting to see how Julian would respond to being scolded by a maid.

His jaw tightened, but then the tension eased and he smiled. "You're right. I should have knocked. Forgive me. I'm far too used to this being a bachelor's quarters."

"It's all right. I'm perfectly presentable." Emma stepped away from Amanda. "What is it?"

"I had the rest of your trunks brought to the harbor this morning. The Amelia will be ready to leave with the evening tide."

"So soon?"

"I'd like to finish and return as quickly as I can. And since I'm not exactly sure what awaits me when we arrive, it's best to get down there."

She sighed. They'd be leaving a lot sooner than she thought. She wouldn't even have a chance to go over and see Rose before it was time to leave, wanted to apologize for upstaging her the way she did. So she took out her stationery and pen and dashed off a quick note to Rose, saying all those things she didn't have time to say in person.

But still, she nodded. "Yes."

Amanda glanced at her, and then at Julian, and then made her way to the door. "I will go see if breakfast is laid out."

Julian gently b.u.mped the door closed. "I thought you might need a bit of a.s.sistance this morning. When we return, you will, of course, be free to hire any maids you need."

"With a house of this size, we'd only need one, maybe two-" Emma cut herself off, bringing a hand to her mouth as she realized she was actually insulting him. "What I meant was-"

"I know what you mean, and you're right." He crossed over to her, curving his hands on her shoulders. "And I'm not in the least bit offended. If all goes well with Percival, perhaps we can see about a larger house."

As the s.p.a.ce between them vanished, a sudden shyness gripped her. Looking at him wasn't any easier, either. She didn't know what she expected. He was the same man he'd been the day before, the same man he'd been a year ago. But considering the pa.s.sion they'd shared the night before, the way he'd kissed her, how he touched her-maybe he wasn't the one who changed. Maybe it was she who'd changed?

And with that, Julian caught her beneath the chin, tilting her face up to his. His gaze never wavered, no flush colored his cheeks, but a slight grin came to his lips. "You can look at me, you know. Neither of us will turn to stone."

She did, and even if she couldn't feel it, she would know she was blus.h.i.+ng by the way Julian's eyes crinkled at their outer corners as his smile widened. His fingertips brushed over her cheek in a way that sent a delicious ripple through her.

"See? No stone."

She smiled. "No stone." Although her knees did threaten to go to mush on her. It was too bad it was morning. The way his thumb moved over her skin was enough to bring a hum of desire rus.h.i.+ng through her.

"Did you sleep well?" he murmured, his thumb still sweeping back and forth.

"I did." It took her a bit to acclimate herself to sharing a bed with another body, and it took longer still to acclimate herself to the low, even rumble of his snores. But once she managed that, sleep came easily and was deeply peaceful.

"Good." He bent toward her, brus.h.i.+ng her lips with a light kiss. That light kiss deepened as he caught her face in both hands, his fingers splayed to hold her still as he slowly explored her mouth.

Her heart quickened, her hands curling about his wrists on their own, and when he broke the kiss, she found her breath was a little more difficult to catch.

"That is the sort of good morning you should have had," he murmured, his lips almost touching hers.

"I think I'd have preferred this one."

A chuckle rose to his lips and he stepped back. "If I hadn't had so much to do this morning, you would have. And now, since I still have much to do and you've not eaten-" he offered her his arm "-shall we go below, Mrs. McCallister?"

Slipping her arm through his, she replied, "I wonder how long it will take for me to not wonder who Mrs. McCallister is."

She glanced up at him as she said it and thought she saw darkness flash through his eyes. But it happened so quickly, and his eyes were back to their tranquil slate color before she could ascertain what she'd seen.

The day pa.s.sed so quickly, it seemed she'd just come down for breakfast and then it was time to leave for the harbor.

As she emerged from the carriage, she stared at the myriad of s.h.i.+ps, both in berths and moored out in the bay. A frigid wind blew in off the water, and she s.h.i.+vered as she burrowed deeper into her cloak.

Eagleton Imports, her family's s.h.i.+pping company, was housed not far from where she stood, on the northern end of the harbor. She smiled at the weathered warehouse, wondering which of her brothers was there now. Surely her family would come to see her off.

Julian stood beside her, the wind ruffling his hair into peaks, his cheeks already ruddy from the cold. He offered her his arm and steered her along the boards until they came to a three-masted s.h.i.+p with mottled blue-gray sails.

"The Amelia," he explained, gesturing to the s.h.i.+p. "The first s.h.i.+p I ever designed. My father had it built for me, just before-"

She turned her gaze from the Amelia's elegant lines to the tight lines of Julian's jaw. "Before he died," she murmured.

He nodded and then cleared his throat. "Come. I sent Amanda to Stonebridge to let your family know we were leaving. I expect they will be here shortly."

And with that, he led her on board the Amelia. All around, the crew was busy, loading supplies and whatever else it was they would be bringing to the West Indies. She smiled at the curious looks she received, but they didn't stop to speak to anyone. Julian owned the s.h.i.+p, but he wasn't the captain, and she wondered if they'd meet the man at the helm any time soon.

Julian led her down below, to a cabin that reminded her of his house-small but cozy, and surprisingly well-appointed. Her sea chest was there, standing alongside the one she a.s.sumed was Julian's, at the foot of the narrow bed.

She frowned. The bed, bolted to the wall, was half the size of the one they'd shared last night. Was it even possible for two people to sleep in that bed? And if it was possible, would either one of them be comfortable?

The door closed with a soft click, and Julian shrugged out of his greatcoat to drape it over the back of one of the chairs around the small rectangular table along the far wall. Rubbing his hands together, he moved to the stove in the middle of the room and smiled. "Good. Mr. Marsters remembered to light it."

As he warmed his hands by it, she stood there, still bundled in her cloak. "Where am I to sleep?" she blurted.

He looked up from his hand-warming, his brow wrinkling. "Did you just ask me where you're going to sleep?" Without waiting for her response, he then gestured to the bed. "There."

"With you?"

"That was the plan. Unless you rather I slept somewhere else."

She unfastened the frogs to whisk the cloak from her shoulders. "Are you certain we'll both fit?"

He grinned. "I can only hope so. I've never shared it with anyone, so it'll be interesting to see." He moved to the bed, sinking onto the edge of the mattress, then scooted back and stretched out. Patting the mattress beside him, he said, "Come and we'll see."

Her belly fluttered as she draped her cloak atop his coat and crossed over to him. Was he telling the truth about never sharing this bed with anyone else? And did it matter now?

With a playful growl, Julian grabbed her to pull her down beside him. Wrapping his arms about her, he said, "It's a bit of a tight fit, but I think we'll make do."

The fluttering stopped as she tucked her head beneath his chin. This felt so perfect, and he didn't seem quite so troubled by having to marry her. If anything, he seemed as content as she felt. Perhaps there was hope for them.

He pressed a gentle kiss into the top of her head. "I wish I knew where everyone was. I'd hate to have something interrupted by a poorly timed goodbye."

"Julian! It's the middle of the day!" She pulled out of his arms and rose up onto an elbow to gape at him.

"So? We're newlyweds, sweetheart. No one expects to see much of us, daylight hours or not."

His endearment sent a s.h.i.+ver through her, and when he capped his proclamation by leaning over and covering her mouth with his, she melted into him. What was the harm in indulging now? Who was going to bother them?

"Mr. McCallister?"

A solid rap accompanied the unfamiliar voice, and Emma bit back a sigh as Julian broke the kiss to call, "What is it, Thomas?"

"Captain Reynolds said Mrs. McCallister's family is here."

Disappointment p.r.i.c.ked at her when Julian pulled away completely and muttered, "How did I know?"

He climbed over her then caught her by the wrist to help her up. She rose, smoothing her skirts as Julian opened the door and stepped out of the cabin. She couldn't hear what they discussed, but it didn't matter as Julian poked his head back in. "Would you prefer I bring them down here?"

It was sweet of him to ask, as she didn't relish the thought of tearful farewells in front of a gaggle of men she didn't know. She wouldn't like tearful farewells in front of men she did know. "Down here, please. If it isn't any trouble."

"No trouble at all." The door closed, and when it opened again, a lump leaped into her throat as her mother and father came into the cabin, followed by her brothers and sister.

When she met her mother's gaze, Emma's eyes flooded with tears and her throat hurt, which made swallowing her rising sob impossible. And making it harder still were her mother's s.h.i.+ny, red eyes. Emma threw herself into Momma's arms, dissolving into a puddle as Momma wrapped her arms about her and held her tight.

"There, there," Momma whispered, smoothing one hand over the back of Emma's hair. "No need for tears, love. You aren't leaving forever."

Words stuck in Emma's throat, refusing to come out, so she nodded, burying her face in Momma's neck. She couldn't remember the last time she clung to her mother, but she didn't want to ever let go. Momma gave her a gentle squeeze and then stepped back. "You will be fine, Emma. Everything will be fine."

Emma sniffled, and without a word, Julian pressed his handkerchief into her hand. Dabbing at her eyes, Emma managed to croak, "I know, Momma."

"It will." Momma's hands were warm as they caught her face gently. "Everything will be fine."

Emma nodded and managed a watery smile as she faced Papa. "Safe voyage and G.o.dspeed," he murmured, his voice gruff as he pulled her into his arms. He pressed a kiss into the top of her head and stepped back.

She held her breath as he turned to Julian, who cleared his throat. "Captain McKenzie, Mrs. McKenzie, thank you for everything."

To her surprise, Papa held out a hand, clasping Julian's. "We'll sit down when you return and work out the final details over brandy and cigars."

His words made no sense to Emma, but apparently they did to Julian, who nodded. "Of course. I'll send word once I have a chance to look over the ledgers at Windemere."

Papa nodded and stepped back. Momma stared hard at Julian, but her eyes didn't seem angry. Instead, concern seemed to flood their aqua depths. "You'd better take care of my daughter, Julian. Good care of her."

"I intend to." Julian's voice was low and serious, and to Emma's surprise, Momma hugged him. And then, after more hugs and tears, Emma found herself alone in the cabin with Julian again. And it was his turn to embrace her as she dissolved into sobs once more.

Chapter Eighteen.

BEING ON BOARD the Amelia was a strange experience for Emma. When she sailed on one of Eagleton's s.h.i.+ps, she knew just about every man on the crew. But this time, she didn't know any of them, and it was just as well, as she had no desire to even be anywhere near the deck. Her stomach tossed and roiled so much that she spent the first two days lying curled up on the bed, alternating between sleep and sick.

On the third day at sea, she finally adjusted to the s.h.i.+p's movement. The water grew calmer, and she held her breath as she rose from the bed onto shaky legs. Julian, sitting at his desk in the corner across the room from the bed, pushed back his chair. "Em?"

"I'm fine," she told him with a smile.

"Do you need the bucket?"

"No. I don't think so." Her smile widened at his look of relief. For those two days, he'd had the decidedly unpleasant job of emptying the bucket kept at her bedside. "My stomach feels a bit more settled."

He still crossed to her, his hand hovering at her elbow. "Are you certain?"

She nodded. "I think I'd like to change my clothes and go up and take in some air. It's rather stuffy in here and, truth be told, it smells a bit in here."