Kimberly Nee - The McKenzie Brothers (6 page)

Chapter Eight

Katherine couldn’t sleep. Although her ankle no longer hurt, her side burned like the fires of Hell no matter how she lay. A fine mist of perspiration covered her skin, despite the fact that she’d undressed down to only her light linen chemise. Breathing was nearly impossible.

After what seemed like endless trips up and down the stairs, she had to take everything to the laundry, a small room just beyond the kitchen. With Sidwell’s help, water was brought in and heated before being poured into the large copper tub, along with soap. After that, she spent all morning scrubbing clothes, sheets and towels against the slatted scrub board, wringing them out, and placing them in another basket to be hung out in the brilliant sunshine to dry.

That was the worst part, carrying the baskets of wet articles. She still wanted to cry from the memory of hauling those blasted baskets out behind the house. Where it hadn’t been so difficult when dry, the wet laundry weighed ten times as much. Twice, she’d had to stop to chase away lightheadedness. Once, she’d actually dropped the basket, sending the wet clothing spilling across the grass.

It wouldn’t have been so terrible, had one of Garrett’s shirts
not
landed where the strong afternoon sun, and little rain, resulted in a grassless patch on the lawn. She stared in horror at the splotches staining the white linen. Her attempt at brushing the dirt off proved fruitless, as the dirt left dingy shadows behind. Rewashing it was her only option.

Hanging the laundry was almost as bad, but wet clothing didn’t weigh nearly as much when lifted one by one, of course. Still, each time she raised her right arm, fire burned through her and she couldn’t hold back each accompanying flinch. Fortunately, she had no audience to question her.

At least it was done. Now, if only the ache would either fade enough to allow sleep, or intensify to the point where she would faint, she would be happy.

When the clock in the parlor struck midnight, she sat up, muttering, “Bloody hell…” and grimacing as she clutched her middle.

“Perhaps a nip of that brandy in Mr. McKenzie’s office will help ease this enough to let me sleep. Everyone is asleep and no one will never know.”

She eased her legs over and sat there, eyeing her ivory cashmere shawl. It was the one fine garment she owned, the one she refused to part with. Surely everyone was asleep, so would it matter if she ventured below in only her chemise?

Another groan. No. She couldn’t risk it, and so the shawl went around her shoulders.

Rising from her bed was a challenge, although a hand pressed to her side helped. Still, she had to brace one hand against her bed to steady herself as tears blurred her vision and her head spun.

Gradually, her head cleared and the nausea abated. She lit the candle in the dish beside her bed and then, slow step by slow step, she crept out of her room and down below.

The entire house was dark. Garrett must have come in with extreme quietness, for she hadn’t heard the front door open and close. The house was still and peaceful, the shadowy darkness almost comforting as she moved down the hallway toward his office.

She opened the door and stepped inside. There, just as she’d remembered, the crystal decanter, half-filled with amber liquid, stood on the small table behind the desk.

Her hand shook as she lifted the stopper, which clinked as it struck the decanter’s lip. She poured a splash of brandy into a crystal glass and just stared down at the glass for a long moment. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so on edge. She kept waiting for Garrett to pop out at her from behind one of the rich burgundy velvet drapes and fire her on the spot.

“Oh, stop being such a ninny,” she chided, curling her fingers about the glass. “Just drink it already.”

Taking as deep a breath as she could, she lifted the glass, tilted her head back and swallowed the brandy in one mouthful. She promptly choked, as the liquor burned a flaming path down her throat. But that didn’t even come close to matching the burst of fire in her belly as the brandy splashed into it.

“Next time, sweetheart, you might wish to take a smaller sip. A bit more ladylike, and it won’t burn quite so badly.”

She started at the soft voice floating over her shoulder. The blaze in her belly turned into a slice of fire through her side as she spun around to see Garrett lounging against the partially open door, arms folded over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles and a slight grin playing at his lips.

“Oh. I…that is…” Katherine stammered, wanting to clutch at her side but not wanting to let him know she’d hurt herself. As her voice died away, he lifted one brow. She sighed, a feeling of iron dread rushing through her. “Very well. I will have my things cleared out of my room in the morning, then.”

“Really? Leaving so soon, are you?”

Perhaps she hadn’t heard him right. Then came the sensual smile still playing at his lips. If she wasn’t already rattled enough, his smile would certainly send her right around the bend.

“I — I, that is, you are not about to fire me?”

“Fire you?” He uncrossed his arms and entered the room in three long strides. “Why on earth would I do that?”

“For-for this, of course.” She gestured to the brandy, then the empty glass still clutched in her hand.

“My dear, I don’t give a damn if you take a sip every now and again. We all have a little trouble sleeping from time to time.” He arched that blasted brow again. “You
were
feeling a little restless this evening, weren’t you? It isn’t a habit I’m only now finding out about, is it?”

“Yes, that is, no, it isn’t a habit. I was having a bit of trouble sleeping, I’m afraid.”

He took another step closer. “If the bourbon fails, I’ve another solution that will most likely work.”

She glared down at the decanter, her brows knit. “Bourbon? I thought it was brandy. No wonder it went down so harshly.”

Garrett laughed, closing the gap between them. “Sorry, sweetheart. Brandy’s not high on my list of preferred liquor.”

All too aware of his proximity, she gripped the fringed ends of her shawl with her free hand and held them tight together as she looked up at him. “You mentioned another solution? I don’t think bourbon is going to put me to sleep at all.”

His eyes darkened, sending a chill through her. “I do, in fact, have another and it works like a charm for me each time.”

“And what might that be?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew the answer. Knew by the way his eyes darkened even more. A small knot formed in the pit of her belly as his smile seemed so much more sensual. A spicy, musky scent reached her nose and that knot tightened. Garrett’s sheets had held that same sensual smell, wafting from the linens as she whisked them from the bed. His cologne. A soft groan rose to her lips at the delicious scent. She wanted to lean into him and breathe deep, to melt against him and let that masculine smell surround her.

The air was still, heavy with an unfamiliar tension, and her skin prickled as every hair on her nape stood. It wasn’t fear. Not exactly, anyhow. A breeze must have found its way about one of the windowpanes, for the drapery fluttered to brush the back of her leg. And
that
served only to remind her of her vulnerable state of undress. A thin chemise. A shawl. Far too little clothing to keep her senses from being rattled.

What would he do, should she give into that desire, throw off her shawl, and slide her arms around him? If she pulled him down to meet her lips?

Unfortunately, she wasn’t brazen enough to do either.

Moonlight filtered through the windows, splashed across the desk, across them, and his eyes glittered as he reached for her glass with one hand, and with the other, caught her by that wrist.

She couldn’t breathe, and her sore side had nothing to do with it. His drawing her firm to his chest,
that
was reason her pulse pounded in her temples and roared in her ears.

Although it was exactly as she imagined, she shouldn’t allow him such liberties. No good could come of it. “Mr. McKenzie — ”

“Garrett,” he replied in a husky whisper. “Please, love; call me Garrett.”

“But that would not be proper.”

His lips brushed hers with the lightness of a butterfly’s wings. “I care not a whit about proprieties, lady. I care about kissing you right now.” His lips swept against hers once more. “And you kissing me back, of course.”

“But, Mr. McKenzie — ”

He is free hand slid up the curve of her neck, curling behind her head and tilting her face up to his. He whispered, “Garrett,” as his mouth slashed down over hers.

Oh. My.

It was unlike any kiss she’d ever felt, unlike any she’d ever read about in the novels she loved. His lips, soft and warm moved against hers with only a hint of hesitation, as if he thought she might protest. Perhaps she should, but none came to mind.

His arms didn’t tighten about her, nor did his hands remain still. One grazed teasingly over her backside, while the other swept upward along her neck. His fingers brushed her jaw, caught her beneath her chin to tilt her head to a more accessible angle.

Her eyes closed on their own from the sensations burning through her as he slightly bent her body back. Now the arm about her waist tightened, pulled her into him, and she couldn’t hold back her groan.

He pulled away, nuzzling her as he growled, “Ah, love,” in a throaty voice that was a bit ragged around the edges. “You have no idea how I’ve thought of doing this. How I’ve imagined the honey-sweet taste of you and the feel of you in my arms.”

He offered no chance for a response, but seized her lips again. She slid her arms about him, pressing him closer still, and a smile tugged at her lips at the growing pressure against her belly. So he thought
that
, did he?

He wasn’t the only one thinking lusty thoughts. Desire, thick and hot, swelled deep inside her, impossible to ignore. Who cared about propriety? It mattered very little now, as she
had
to satisfy that unrelenting curiosity about him. She didn’t want to resist temptation, but wanted very much to indulge in every last bit of it, to savor it for as long as possible.

She offered up no resistance as Garrett’s fingers curled over the edge of her shawl to urge the cashmere aside. His fingertips barely grazed her, yet she shivered as if an icy wind whipped through the room.

He pressed his lips to the skin he’d bared. Like his touch, his kiss was the lightest of caresses. She didn’t want the moment to end, didn’t want the spell broken.

As he tightened his arms around her and bent her back, a red-hot arrow sliced through her with such sharpness that she couldn’t halt her hiss. “Oh!”

He froze. “Katherine?”

“Please,” she croaked, feeling sick. “Please, let me go.”

“What is it?”

“Please.” She pulled free and doubled over, gripping the edge of the desk.

“Katherine?”

“I’m all right.”

“You certainly don’t look all right.” He frowned, crouching down to her eye level. “You’re gray, Katherine. What’s wrong?”

“I fell this morning,” she managed to force out, her nausea growing by the moment. It was all she could do to remain standing upright.

Garrett caught her behind the knees with one arm and lifted her easily. “What the hell were you doing carrying laundry up and down the stairs?”

“How did you know about that?”

“Because I’m the one who instructed Mrs. Riley to give you that duty. It was one of the less strenuous ones I could think of.” He carried her effortlessly toward the stairs. “I shall be having a word with Mrs. Riley about this matter, for sure.”

“Please. Do not take her to task. She did not know. I told no one.” His eyes were glittering with anger.

“Why?”

There was such fury in that one word that, for a moment, Katherine felt a rush of fear. “I did not want her to think I was loafing.”

“Fool. I’ll send for a doctor in the morning. You are not to move from bed once I’ve put you there. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, Mr. McKenzie,” she murmured, averting her eyes from the fire she saw in his. She hadn’t expected him to be so angry with her. After all, she’d kept quiet so he wouldn’t grow angry.

In hindsight, a serious miscalculation.

He rolled his eyes, but did not take her to task for her formality. Instead, he spirited her back to her room, where he set her in bed. A slight pang of disappointment twinged her insides; she had — for one mad moment — entertained the notion that he was about to sweep her up to his room. A foolish thought, no doubt, but she had to admit, she had hoped for it.

His lips brushed her forehead. “Sleep now, sweetheart. In the morning, I will send Sidwell for a doctor.”

Chapter Nine

When Katherine opened her eyes the next morning, it took her a moment to remember what had happened the night before. Had she dreamed it, or did Garrett actually kiss her? She stretched and the dull burn spreading through her body reminded her of exactly what happened. No. She hadn’t dreamed it.

So, Garrett was thinking
that,
was he?

A delightfully wicked feeling enveloped her to push aside the discomfort for a moment. She carefully snuggled down into her bed linens to savor it, but her contentment didn’t last as there came a gentle tap on the door. Sidwell poked his head into the room. “Katherine?”

“Yes?”

The butler remained impassive, stepping into the room. “I’ve Dr. Samuels with me. Mister Garrett said to let him in to examine you?”

She nodded. “Thank you, Sidwell.”

A tall, stoop-shouldered gentleman with dark eyes behind thick spectacles stepped into the room. “Good morning, Katherine. Mr. McKenzie told me you had a bit of a fall, did you?”

“I did, sir.”

“What happened?” He closed the door behind him before crossing over to her, where he set his bulging black leather bag on the foot of the bed.

“I tripped, actually, and landed on one of my boots.”

“I see. Very well, let’s have a look then, shall we?”

Mr. Samuels circled round the bed to bend over her, and she tensed, waiting for him to lift her chemise for a look.

However, he didn’t move her chemise. Instead, he frowned, then poked her. She jumped and screamed as pain flared through her.

“Ah, as I thought. You have cracked a rib, Katherine.” He glanced at her over the rims of his spectacles. “Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do. It will mend on its own in time.”

She fought to keep her breathing as even as possible. Anything heavier, and the torture would never end. As the radiating waves died out, she licked dry lips to ask, “I can go about my normal routine?”

“You might wish to rest for a few days. But when you feel better, you may return to your normal routine, with some restrictions. It’ll heal in time.” He slipped off his spectacles, folded them, and tucked them into his bag. “I understand you are employed here?”

“Yes. I am one of Mr. McKenzie’s domestics.”

He nodded. “I will speak to Mr. McKenzie about restricting your more arduous tasks for the time being. He seemed fairly concerned about you so I doubt there will be a problem.”

“Oh, no. Please, that won’t be necessary.”

It wasn’t that she thought Garrett would object to her resting those few days, but was afraid she’d go mad with too much leisure time, too much time with only her thoughts for company. Not to mention, it would hardly endear her to the others.

“Very well.” Samuels sounded hesitant. “I want someone to contact me at once if the pain grows worse, do you understand?”

“Of course.”

“Then my work here is done,” he said crisply, lifting his bag from the bed. “I bid you good day then, Katherine.”

“Thank you, Mr. Samuels.”

He bobbed his head in response and slipped around the door. She sank back into the soft pillows. Garrett must have hovered right outside the door. Katherine could hear him speaking with the physician. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they were discussing her, no doubt.

A few moments later, Garrett stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “A cracked rib, eh? Care to explain how that happened?”

“It was foolish.” She winced as she tried to sit up. “I tripped over my own two feet.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

A fine mist of perspiration beaded her forehead. “I’ve chores that need tending to.”

He sat on the edge of the bed. “You’ll do no such thing. You are to rest.”

“Oh, but I couldn’t.”

He didn’t let her answer. “You
will
and that is that. Is this understood?”

“But, Mr. McKenzie, I — ”

“I thought we agreed. You are to address me as Garrett.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that, just as I cannot remain abed. It would raise so many questions. Why, Mrs. Riley alone would — ”

“I assure you, my proper lady, Mrs. Riley doesn’t frighten me half as much as she might you.” A devilish grin lifted his lips. “I insist you rest because I have every intention of continuing what began in my office last night.”

“Is that so?” She felt giddy, but hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

“Most definitely. But, you’ve no need to worry; I will be discreet and I only ask that you are as well.”

“Discreet.” The giddiness vanished. Of course he wanted discretion. He was the son of a prominent family and she was merely his maid. It wouldn’t do to have anyone know he desired a lowly maid, would it?

A nod. “Yes. I prefer
not
to share what goes on inside my bedroom.”

“Of — of course not.” Perhaps she shouldn’t be insulted, but she glared at him anyway. “Discretion being the better part of valor and all.”

“Exactly.”

“Exactly.” She pressed her lips together, then shifted to pull the sheet to her shoulders. “If you will excuse me, Mr. McKenzie. You said I was to rest, so I suppose I should take advantage of this generosity while I can.”

His forehead creased. “Have I said something wrong, Katherine? I get the distinct feeling you are angry with me.”

“No. Of course not.” She couldn’t keep the displeasure from her voice. “I’ve no cause to be angry, as I can hardly fault you for wanting to sneak about. I can’t say I blame you, as you have your reputation to consider.”

“My reputation?” His frown smoothed and a chuckle rolled off his lips. “I could give a damn what anyone says about me. I’ve never been one to want to offer fodder for the gossips and that has nothing to do with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” Another laugh and he stood up. He caught the sheet in one hand to tug it smooth. “I’d rather keep them guessing, to be honest.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say to that, but the sourness curdling her belly let her know she made a fool of herself.

Garrett stepped back, reaching for the door handle. “I will let you rest now. Tomorrow, however, is another matter.”

She plucked at the sheet’s binding. “Another matter, you say?”

“Definitely.”

There was no misreading the invitation sparking in his eyes. He had every intention of finishing what had begun the night before. Perhaps she had no call to be angry, but it flared up to evaporate the sourness the way water became steam.

She didn’t care if she had any right to be angry, and the last thing she wanted him to think was that she was like Aggie or any of the other barmaids at the Bayside. She might no longer be innocent, but she was by no means a whore. Her back stiffened. “I beg your pardon,
Mr. McKenzie
, but I can assure you, tomorrow is
not
another matter. Why, I ought to cuff you for even suggesting otherwise.”

His eyebrows rose and his eyes widened. “I meant no offense, Katherine.”

The tension in her shoulders, in her back, made lying down uncomfortable. She wouldn’t be able to rest, not with the fury twisting her innards so badly. She sat up, biting back a wince as she slid her legs over the tick, and rose. “If you don’t mind, I’ll thank you to leave my room now. I think it best if I resume my duties at once.”

His eyes narrowed. “Was it something I said, sweetheart?”

“You seem to think that I am yours for the taking because I was fool enough to return that bloody kiss last evening. Well, I am not yours!” She gripped her tightly as she moved to step around him, intending to show him out.

He stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Get back in that bed, Katherine.”

“I think not.”

“You’ve no choice in the matter. You are going to rest there if I have to put you there myself.”

She folded her arms over her chest, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. “You would not dare.”

Garrett drew himself up to his full height. “Care to test me, sweetheart?”

She held his stare, determined not to look away as she ignored the dizziness washing over her. “Get out of my way, you bloody twit.”

“No.”

The irritation she felt became a nervous flutter in the pit of her belly at the dangerous glint in his eyes. He was her employer and she had just insulted him. She was coming dangerously close to losing her position in the household.

His jaw tightened and he moved to sweep her into his arms. She stared at him for a moment and then brought her foot down to stamp soundly on top of his.

A mistake. He jerked away and made a great spectacle of grabbing his foot, howling as if she’d smashed every bone in it. She stared in horror, clapping a hand over her mouth as the realization of what she’d just done sank in and horror flooded through her.

What the devil was she
thinking?

She peeled her hand away from her lips. “Oh, bloody hell,” she reached for his arm, even as pain radiated through her from the vibration of her foot stomping down on his. “Mr. McKenzie, I am so sorry!”

He hobbled over to the bed and sank onto it, still holding his foot and groaning as if in mortal agony. “I think it’s smashed to bits, love.”

“Oh, dear,” she breathed, hurrying over to him. Good heavens! Oh, how childish had she become? She hated when her temper got the best of her, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself.

As she neared, he made a miraculous recovery. He released his foot, snaked both arms about her waist and tugged her close.

“I am but teasing, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips skimming her cheek. “About my foot, anyhow. I was not joking about you remaining in bed.”

Her temper flared again. “You were faking?” She flattened her hands against his chest to shove away from him. “You’ve some nerve, don’t you?”

“Perhaps, but it is a nerve that yields results, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, lifting her easily and setting her back against the pillows. “Now, you will remain here until
I
tell you otherwise, or you can be assured I
will
take the appropriate measures.”

There was no sign of playfulness in those amber eyes now. They glittered with anger and she knew she’d crossed the line in her defiance. She did not wish to think of what might happen should she continue to ignore his orders. It wouldn’t end well for her at all.

She took as deep a breath as she could, and bobbed her head. “Very well, Mr. McKenzie. Mr. Samuels said only a few days would be adequate.” She tried to keep her voice as humble as possible, averting her gaze to stare at the floor.

He smiled, tugging the sheets up to her chin. “I find this most tiresome, sweetheart, how you insist on this formality. I promise you, when it is only you and I it’s quite acceptable for you to use my given name.”

“I am afraid you are mistaken, sir. It’s unacceptable no matter who is in the room.”

Her braid fell over her right shoulder. He reached out to catch the end of it, letting it slip slowly through his fingers. “My lady,” he said softly, lifting his eyes to hers. “I’ve made no secret of the fact that I want you.”

“
I’ve
made no secret of the fact that I am not…” The words died in her throat as she was unable to force them past her lips.

“Not what, sweetheart?” he asked, setting her braid back down.

She cleared her throat. “I am not at all like Aggie.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you are mistaken. Terribly mistaken. That is, I don’t think you are like her at all.”

“You don’t?”

“Not one bit.” His forefinger trailed over the curve of her cheek. “You are one of the most stunning women I have ever laid eyes upon. My wanting you has nothing to do with thinking anything other than how much I would enjoy making love to you. And, hopefully, how much you would enjoy it as well.”

This surprised her. No one had ever told her she was stunning before. She’d never felt anything other than odd. From her early childhood, she’d towered over other females, all long arms and legs that did nothing to make her feel delicate and feminine.

But, he was also under the impression that she was an innocent little miss. She was no whore, but she knew he would be disappointed to find that she was not as innocent as he thought.

Gerald Sanders had seen to that.

She bit her bottom lip, instinctively squeezing her eyes shut to block out the unwanted thought.

If he saw her wince, he said nothing about it. Instead, he brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “You rest now, sweetheart. I promise to leave you be for now. But know this: I think you nothing less than a lady and I don’t give a damn how many taverns you’ve found employment in. One has nothing to do with the other.”

He leaned over then, his lips brushing her forehead, and then rose from the bed. “Sleep for now. I will inform Mrs. Riley that she is on her own until you recover. Perhaps that will be enough to nudge her into hiring additional help. It’s something she refuses to do, although I’ve told her she is free to bring in whatever help she feels necessary.”