The McKenzie Brothers: Windemere Part 5

"He will."

She crossed her arms over her chest and offered up an obstinate stare. "But he might not."

Julian smothered a groan. Were all women this pigheaded, or was it just her? "It would all be based on a lie, because you and I know that I'm not the least bit interested in Rose Adams. And unless you want to let Rose in on the scam, I'd be lying to her as well."

"So we'll tell her. Didn't I already say that she would know?"

He should've listened more closely. She did mention something about letting Rose in on their plan. Wait a minute. When had it become their plan? He had to fight to keep from clapping his hand to his forehead. Perhaps Rose would know, but that didn't help matters. Somehow, he knew that would be her response. His chair squeaked as he rose, and the warped floorboard creaked with each step. He stood before her, folding his arms across his chest. "It's a bad idea, Emma. And one I want no part of."

Her forehead smoothed, but judging by the thin line of her lips, she wasn't quite ready to give up. "I don't know how else to fix it, then. And I have to fix it."

"You don't have to fix anything. Just leave them be. They'll fumble their way through."

"Darcy Penrose, Julian. She's losing him to Darcy Penrose."

"He's not a prize, Em."

"Oh, I know he's not a prize," she snapped, waving his scolding away as if it were nothing more than a fly buzzing about her. "In fact, there is no way George Hadley could ever be considered a prize of any sort, the lowly-" She cut herself by pressing her lips tight. The tension in her jaw eased and she rose with a sigh of resignation. "Fine. You're right."

He'd never seen her this way, with her shoulders slumped and her head down. What happened between Hadley and Rose troubled her. And although she did what she thought was the right thing, guilt weighed on her. He couldn't fault her for wanting to put everything right, but it wasn't enough to make him change his mind. Wasn't enough to make him want to manipulate anyone.

She wasn't a contemplator. She moved. She did. She didn't sit back and wait for something to resolve itself when she could force it into motion. True to form, she didn't sit and think now. Instead, she paced.

And watching her was amusing, as the office layout made walking in a straight line impossible. She had to weave her way around desks, and the racks that held the larger drawings, and the chairs left haphazardly pulled away from their tables. Yet, she did so, and deftly.

But the respite was short-lived. She stopped halfway between him and the smaller of the racks. "I have to fix this, and I don't know how I can if no one will help me."

He knew how difficult this had to be for her and that she didn't beg easily or often didn't bode well for him. Although it went against his principles, he knew he'd end up helping.

Her pacing resumed and he caught her on her next pa.s.s, his hands curving against her shoulders. "Em, stop. You're making me feel seasick, and I don't even get seasick. What if you're worrying yourself over nothing? Things do have a way of working out on their own, you know. Perhaps this is how this is meant to play out."

"You keep saying that, but how do you know? I should have just kept my big mouth shut and minded my own business. That's my problem; I think I know what's best for everyone. I should know by now I don't know anything about anything. And even if I did, who ever wants to help? No one ever wants to help me."

"You know I'll help you if I can." Might as well admit it now, before she resorted to something even worse than those pleading eyes. Something like crying. He couldn't recall ever seeing her cry, but he had the feeling that one sight of tears in her eyes, and he'd bend over backwards to make them stop.

But when he saw the mischievous gleam spark in her eyes, he quickly added, "Within reason, Em. Within reason. And before I do that, you need to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Trust me, it doesn't suit you."

The oddest thing happened when she lifted her head and he met her gaze. It felt as if time ground to a halt. The fire didn't burn any brighter, and yet the air swirled hot around them, much like it would do come summer, when the humidity lay like a weight in the breeze. Only this time, weather had nothing to do it.

It wouldn't take much movement to enclose her in his arms. He was halfway there already. The expression on her face mirrored the one she wore the day she told him she loved him. But that was nine years ago and she was just a child back then. And now?

Now she was no child, and that only worsened the ache that took root deep inside him. Drew would kill him if he knew what Julian was thinking about Emma. Garrett would take great delight in dismembering him.

And Julian wouldn't fault either of them.

It was as if the air had been sucked from the room, and he almost groaned as the tip of her tongue darted out to touch her upper lip. His heart thudded in a dull beat against his ribcage at the thought of simply leaning in and capturing her lips with his. What would her kiss taste like? How soft were her lips? Would she be shy and hesitant, or would she eagerly welcome his tongue in to do a little exploring of its own?

Her lips parted, her chin rose, and he leaned in toward her. Without thinking, his fingers tightened on her. Something pressed in on his sides. Her hands. She curved them on his hips. His reaction was swift and sudden, every muscle tightening, his blood racing through his veins as it sharply changed course to head south. d.a.m.n it. He hadn't even kissed her, and he was getting hard. If she were just a bit closer, she'd feel it for herself. Then what would happen?

Her fingers twitched against him, as if she was urging him to just do it already. Her breath was soft, her eyes already closing. His heart quickened its pace. He couldn't remember the last time any woman affected him this way, with only the touch of her fingers against him.

The rain fell harder, pattering on the windowpanes in a staccato rhythm that just seemed so perfect for that moment, and with the slight tilt of his head, he moved to close the s.p.a.ce between them.

"Mr. McCallister?"

Julian jumped back, stumbling over his chair as his a.s.sistant, Peter Carter, came around the corner.

Carter's gaze fell on Emma, and he halted. "I beg your pardon, Mr. McCallister. I didn't realize you were indisposed."

A scarlet flush swept up Emma's cheeks to disappear into her dark hair, but to Julian's surprise, she didn't look away from Carter. Thankfully, neither one looked at him, as he fought his l.u.s.t into submission.

Then, clearing his throat, Julian said, "I'm not indisposed, Mr. Carter. This is Miss McKenzie, Captain McKenzie's daughter. Miss McKenzie, this is my right hand, Mr. Carter."

Carter's eyes widened and he smiled. "Oh, so you're the Miss McKenzie Mr. McCallister has spoken of so often. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Was it Julian's imagination, or did Emma's blush deepen? She glanced up at him and then over at Carter. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Carter."

"What did you need, Mr. Carter?" Julian asked.

"I came in to check the schedule for Mr. Doyle."

"We're still waiting on the timber for the spars. When it arrives, that and the sails are all that are left. Mr. Doyle should have his s.h.i.+p by the last week in February."

"He'll be relieved to hear that." Carter moved around them, to his desk, which was the one Julian had been sitting at. He flipped through a small sheaf of papers, coming up with the one he sought. "I only hope Mr. Percival is as understanding as Mr. Doyle."

"Is Mr. Percival the man in Boston you need to see?" Emma asked.

"He is, and he knows I have no control over the weather." Julian smiled at her as he lifted his greatcoat from the back of Carter's chair and shrugged into it. "I'm going to see Miss McKenzie home. With any luck, I will be able to leave for Boston before the end of the year."

"Momma will be disappointed if you leave before Christmas," Emma said, and perhaps it was only his imagination, but he thought he heard a note of hope in her voice. "And why would you wish to spend it so far away from home?"

Carter smiled at her. "I've asked him that more than once, and now I really wonder why he would."

Emma returned Carter's smile. This time, her blush looked more pleased than embarra.s.sed.

Julian's gut kinked. For a moment, he wanted to punch Carter as hard as he could, dead center in the middle of his face. Instead, he opted to guide Emma from the office and so caught her by the elbow. "Unfortunately, I can't put this meeting off. I've worked too long to get Mr. Percival, and I'm not about to let anything jeopardize this. He owns a s.h.i.+pping company and lost a third of his fleet in a nor'easter last autumn."

"But what about Eagleton? Don't you still build our s.h.i.+ps?" Emma asked, tugging her arm free to look up at him without taking a single step. She wasn't going anywhere until she was good and ready. "Or is Boston more appealing?"

"Is Eagleton in need of any new s.h.i.+ps?" Carter asked.

Julian swallowed his irritated groan. That was part of the problem. Eagleton hadn't needed a new s.h.i.+p in almost two years. "Boston is just different. Carter, if James McKenzie needs a new s.h.i.+p, he knows he can come to you. I'm only going to be gone for a few weeks. Now-" he turned back to Emma "-if you're ready?"

She nodded, fastening the silver frogs at her throat.

He let his gaze linger on her lips. It was too bad Carter chose to return when he did. Although it was probably for the best that he had. Julian allowed himself a momentary pang of regret and then ushered her out into the rain.

When they were tucked into the carriage, she said, "I wasn't lying. Momma will be disappointed. Christmas is only three days away, and since both Drew and Garrett should be home-G.o.d willing-she thought she'd have her family together."

That hopeful sounding note returned to her voice, and his discomfort was as much emotional as it was physical. He s.h.i.+fted. 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 s.h.i.+ft 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 h.e.l.l 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." d.a.m.n 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s- Hold on...where the h.e.l.l 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 s.h.i.+fted 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 a.s.s 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 pa.s.s.

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 wis.h.i.+ng 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 rea.s.sured 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 s.h.i.+pping 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. l.u.s.t 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 s.h.i.+fted 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 pa.s.sing 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 s.h.i.+fting snow, lost in the events of the last few days.