A Perfect Lady, page 4
part #3 of The Mackenzie Brothers Series
But those were the only hints that all was not as it appeared, for he raised a glass when her father called for a toast, and drank deeply, all the while smiling at her. As the afternoon wore on, the storm rolled off to the east and by the time the festivities wound down, the puddles on the terraces were the only evidence there’d even been a storm.
The sun broke through the clouds, golden and soft, and as Rebecca passed by one of the windows, she spied a rainbow arcing over the palm trees. She paused, staring at the beautifully muted colors stretching across the pinkish-gold sky.
“It is time for us to leave, Mrs. McKenzie,” James’s voice was low in her ear, and she fought off a jump as his hand came to rest on her hip.
The unfamiliar name jolted her. “L-Leave?”
“This is our wedding night. Do I need explain why we are going to make our way to the Siren to spend our wedding night alone?”
Heat flared through her. No. He didn’t need to explain. Her face must’ve betrayed her scandalous thoughts, for he grinned. “I see I don’t.”
“No. You don’t.”
“Good.” He offered his arm. “Shall we go and bid your father a good evening, then? Or do you suppose he plans on joining us in my cabin to make certain our wedding night is consummated? Or, should I say, consummated again?”
Although she wasn’t feeling particularly jovial, she forced lightness into her voice. “I highly doubt that. Now.” She slid her arm through his. “Shall we?”
They found Lord Windemere in his office, behind his desk, shuffling through papers. He looked up through somewhat inebriated eyes.
“Captain, I mean, my husband — ” The word felt so odd on her tongue, like a spice she’d never tasted before “ — said we are to spend this evening aboard the Siren.”
He smiled drunkenly. “Certainly. It is your wedding night, after all.”
She fought off the urge to shiver as James cleared his throat. “We’re going to be on our way, then.”
Lord Windemere stared at them, then finally blinked and rose from his chair. “Oh, of course. Of course. I’ll have Mr. Miles bring around a carriage for you, and I’ll send Miss Bertrand for the rest of your things. She’ll follow behind in a separate coach.”
Rebecca’s throat closed as he left her alone with James. The silence thickened uncomfortably, and when she looked over at him, she found him staring at her. Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, she buried her hands in her skirts and twisted. “I beg your pardon?”
“Are you nervous? About being alone with me?”
He didn’t appear to be joking, but seemed serious. “Should I be?”
“Not at all.” He leaned up against the corner of Lord Windemere’s desk, crossing his arms over his chest. Silence fell again as he looked about the small room. The shelves had been righted, most of their items returned to where they belonged, cluttered with odd bits of pottery and trinkets. “Does your father travel much? Some of these pieces look foreign.”
“He used to, before my mother died.” On the shelves behind the desk were her father’s most prized possessions. One of those was a small, clay mask detailed with paint in brilliant blues and reds. She picked it up, tracing a fingertip along a smooth groove. “He made it a point to sail to every country he shipped to. He thought it helped if he familiarized himself with the local customs and the like.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I think he just enjoyed learning. I was born here, but he is originally from London. He used to talk about taking us there to see it because he loved it, but he just couldn’t live there and run Windemere as well. Too controlling, you know. Could never let someone else take over Windemere’s day-to-day.” She turned to show him the mask. “He brought this back from Abyssinia when I was a child. Anyhow, Mother tried to convince him to move us to London, told him it would be best for my sister and me, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”
Unfolding his arms, James came around to stand beside her. “I’ve never been farther east than Europe.”
“I haven’t either.” She returned the mask to its rightful place. “Do you plan on venturing that far?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. There are some lucrative markets in the Orient, so it would probably be wise to look into it. Eagleton Imports’ fleet consists of six ships, and I was going to see about purchasing a seventh when I returned from Barbados, which was where I was before I pulled into port here…Unfortunately — ” a wry smile lifted the corners of his lips “ — I hadn’t counted on crossing paths with Captain Weaver or getting into a battle with him. Well, I might have counted on the battle, but I didn’t count on coming out of it with so much damage.”
For some reason, his words weighed heavily upon her mind. After they arrived in New Jersey, would he then turn around and take to the sea? How much would their marriage settle him? Would it settle him at all?
Why couldn’t she simply ask him? What was the worst thing he could say?
She turned to him, but before she could, Agnes appeared in the doorway. “Miss Alex — that is, Mrs. McKenzie? Captain McKenzie? The coaches are ready.”
James took Rebecca’s hand and pulled her back from the far side of the desk. “He’ll be waiting for us outside.”
He didn’t give her a chance to say much, even if she had thought to possibly protest. No. Protesting wasn’t on her mind. Aside from that pang of sadness, she was too numb to protest as she moved away from the shelves. Her father made it quite clear he wanted her gone from Windemere, made it clear just how disappointed he was in her downfall.
The walk to the front doors seemed to take much longer than usual. She breathed deeply, taking in the lemon scent that always hovered in the air.
Whether she wanted to or not, she would miss Windemere. It was home, and she had so many treasured memories from when her mother and sister still lived.
But those memories held their darkness as well. She and Regan were sisters, but they weren’t friends. Regan was spoiled and selfish, vain and vapid. Older by two years, she was their father’s pampered princess, and she made certain Rebecca never doubted that.
Still, that didn’t mean Rebecca didn’t miss her at times. They might not have been close, but Rebecca still loved her sister, despite Regan’s faults. She could brighten any room with her smile, and her laugh was as beautiful as any music. As children, Rebecca worshipped her older sister. Now that she was grown, she wondered if she and Regan would one day have become friends.
James jolted her from her thoughts with a guiding hand on her elbow. “This one.”
“This one” was the first of two hired coaches. He helped her up, climbed up beside her, and they started off to the harbor.
At the harbor, she stared up at the multitude of ships in their berths. They all seemed so enormous, which put her mind somewhat at ease. Her belly twisted itself into knots every time she thought about having to live on a ship for the next few weeks. She didn’t like ships, didn’t like being on the water.
James offered his arm, then led her to the last berth, where a two-masted vessel bobbed on the water, tugging at the heavy lines as if it was impatient to take to the open water. She swallowed hard. This was the Siren?
“Come along. We have little time to spare,” he said, escorting her up and onto the ship. “Mr. Roberts!”
A young, lanky man loped toward them, flashing a smile as he said, “Aye, Captain?”
“Take Mrs. McKenzie to my cabin and see to it she has everything she needs.” James gave her a reassuring smile. “And Mrs. McKenzie, don’t be afraid to let him know if there is something you need.”
Rebecca glanced up at him. His generosity came as a bit of a shock. She expected him to be sullen and angry, begrudging her the smallest things. She didn’t expect him to treat her like a guest. “Of course.”
Roberts offered her his smile. “Come along, Mrs. McKenzie, and let’s get you settled then.”
“Wait.” She peered over her shoulder. “Where’s Miss Bertrand?”
“She was in the second coach,” James said. “I’ll see to it she makes her way below when they arrive.”
She’d forgotten about the second coach. Presumably, it held her father as well, for she couldn’t imagine him not coming to the harbor to bid her farewell. She thought she’d be happy when the day came that she married, yet her eyes stung now. “Thank you.”
“Mrs. McKenzie, if you’ll come with me,” Roberts said.
“Of course.” With a last glimpse at Basseterre and the Olivees Mountains in the distance, and with her heart surprisingly heavy, she followed Roberts across the lilting deck toward a stairwell.
Agnes joined them as they were partway down a narrow corridor. “Miss Alexander?” Her dark eyes were wide, almost glassy with terror. “Please tell your father to let me stay.”
“I wish I could,” Rebecca replied. “But he isn’t going to heed my requests any more than he would yours.”
The ship bobbed and Agnes steadied herself by bracing a hand against the wall. She glanced from Rebecca to Roberts and back, then shook her head, tears welling in her eyes as she muttered, “I don’t belong here. No, sir, I don’t.”
She muttered the same two sentences the entire length of the corridor, and Rebecca silently gave thanks when Roberts paused at a closed door. “Miss Bertrand, this will be your cabin. Captain and Mrs. McKenzie will be in the next cabin over.”
Agnes nodded, sniffling as she hurried inside and closed the door behind her. Roberts turned back to Rebecca. “She doesn’t seem happy.”
“She doesn’t want to leave St. Kitts,” Rebecca explained, frowning at the closed door. It wasn’t like Agnes to be so weepy. She was normally so calm and stoic. Sobs rose from the cabin’s depths, raw and heartbreaking.
Her hand hovered above the door’s handle, but before she could grasp it, Roberts resumed his pace. “Your father will be along shortly to see you off. If there’s anything you need before then, I will be topside with Captain McKenzie.”
She hurried after him. “I thank you.”
“No need for thanks, Mrs. McKenzie.” He paused at the last door on the left. “This is Captain McKenzie’s cabin.”
As he spoke, he pushed open the door. It swung wide without a sound. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back in a bit to check on you, and Captain McKenzie will be down when he’s free. Shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”
“Thank you,” she replied absently, stepping over the threshold as he closed the door. She set her valise on the floor by her newly purchased sea chest. The cabin was about half the size of her chambers at Windemere and not nearly as lavishly appointed. The bed looked to be large enough for two people, but it would be a tight fit. Still, it looked comfortable enough. The mattress was thick, as were the pillows, and a quilt of vibrant red and blue lay smooth across the surface.
The furnishings were simple and unadorned: a wardrobe, a low chest, a small table with two chairs, and a desk. Like the bed, the chest and wardrobe were bolted to the walls, while the table was secured to the floor. A small stove stood in the middle of the cabin, dark and cold.
Her sea chest stood perpendicular to James’s, both at the foot of the bed, tucked in between the bed and the wall. She sank onto the edge of the bed. This was her new home. At least, it was until they reached America.
A slow, deep breath calmed her heart some and her hands went still. They rested on her thighs, fingers splayed. How could she be so serene when everything had spun so badly out of control? In the span of a day, everything changed and would never be the same.
Wood creaked, and a knock followed. “Rebecca?”
“Father?”
The door opened and he poked his head into the cabin. “May I?”
“Of course.”
Leaving the door wide, Benjamin limped in on his cane. “Captain McKenzie is about ready to cast off.”
Her throat closed. “I could stay here, at least — ”
“I know you do not believe me, Daughter,” he broke in. “But this is for the best. You will be happy.”
“Happy? With a man who doesn’t want me, in a marriage that neither of us wants? How is happiness possible?”
He sighed, running a hand through his thinning gray hair. “You will see, once the child is born.”
“The child whose father will come to resent him, you mean?”
“I am not having this conversation now. It is time for you to go, and I wish you well.”
She reached for him as he stepped back. “Father, please — ”
He jerked back, just beyond her reach. “Godspeed for a safe voyage, Rebecca.” Without another word, he left. Her knees trembled, then buckled, and she dropped onto the bed, burying her face in her hands.
She cried until her head ached. When she had no more tears left to spill, and her shoulders went still, she sat back against the wall. Her lace sleeve scraped against her cheek as she drew it across to wipe at her eyes. Irritation flared through her. She felt like a fool in the ill-fitting gown and wanted only to strip it off and toss it out the window. What did she care if it belonged to her mother? Her mother was gone, her wedding was over, and there was nothing to celebrate anyway. It was all one horrid disaster and she wanted to burn the dress simply for its association.
But, since she had nothing with which to start a fire, she sat back, leaning her head against the wall. Her mind wandered here and there as the shadows grew long on the walls and sunlight faded to twilight.
“Mrs. McKenzie?”
She lifted her head. “Miss Bertrand?”
“May I come in?”
“Of course.”
The door opened and Agnes eased around it. She’d stopped crying, but her eyes were monstrously red and puffy, and she clutched a wrinkled handkerchief in one hand. “Your father is gone? I thought I heard him here.”
“You did, but he left. Farewells make him as uncomfortable as everything else seems to discomfit him. Especially when he knows what he’s doing — what he’s already done — is wrong.” Rebecca folded her arms over her chest. “Why are you here? It’s a bit — ah — early for me to ready for bed, isn’t it?”
“You wish to look your best, don’t you? Your wedding night is — ” her voice hitched and she dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief “ — is special. You do know what the captain expects for this eve.”
Rebecca bit the inside of her cheek. Now her fingers began their twisting. “Yes,” she murmured, glancing at the floor, “I know.”
Agnes nodded as she moved to sit beside her. Her flush was evident, despite the darkness of her skin. “So, let’s get started, shall we?”
An image of her in James’s arms in the garden, then in his bed above it flashed through Rebecca’s mind, and an uncomfortable tightness kinked her muscles. She knew what he expected. Part of her was terrified by the thought. But the other part…?
She swallowed hard. “Miss Bertrand, I appreciate you doing this, but I’m quite well aware of what Captain McKenzie will expect when he returns, and I think I can ready myself. Please recall why it is we are here now. I already carry his child, remember. And this was no divine intervention.”
“Mrs. McKenzie!”
“Oh, don’t look so shocked. You’ve had plenty of time to become used to this. And it isn’t as if I’ve killed someone. I’m with child. It happens all the time.”
Agnes’s forehead puckered, her brows pulled low. Then she tapped her forefinger against her pursed lips and muttered something beneath her breath. “Now, come and let me help you ready for bed. I believe the captain told Mr. Roberts he wished a tray be brought here, so it won’t be long before he returns either. Let’s get you out of that cumbersome gown. You don’t wish to spoil it.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “It’s already spoiled, Miss Bertrand. This gown was a terrible choice for me and I want it burned at the first chance.”
“But it belonged to your mother.”
“I am well aware of whose gown it was.” Rebecca stood perfectly still as Agnes went to work opening the sleeves to remove the lace. Next came the skirts and petticoats, and finally, the chemise and stays. For the first time since that morning, she could draw a deep breath.
Agnes draped the gown over the table and then moved to Rebecca’s sea chest, where she rummaged through until she emerged with a fresh shift. Rebecca took it from her, drawing it on as Agnes said, “If you’ll sit at the table, I’ll fix your hair.” Rebecca did as she was told, settling in one of the straight-backed chairs at the table in the middle of the cabin. Agnes went to work fussing with her hair, all the while making clicking noises with her tongue against her teeth. Rebecca gritted her teeth as the maid was as careful as she normally would be, and snarled Rebecca’s hair in three different attempts. Finally, she gave up, combing Rebecca’s thick tresses until they framed her face in a fall of shiny chestnut colored curls.
“There. You look — wait, there’s one more thing.” Agnes bent forward and pinched Rebecca’s cheeks so hard that tears sprang to her eyes. Then, Agnes straightened. “Your cheeks were far too pale. Now, you look lovely.”
She caught Rebecca by the hands to squeeze reassuringly. “Take care, and I will see you in the morning, Mrs. McKenzie.”
And with that, Agnes was gone, leaving Rebecca feeling rather ridiculous in the sensual night dress. After trying a variety of seductive poses that left her feeling even more foolish, she decided to simply stretch out on the bed.
With that done, there was precious little else she could do except sit and wait for James’s return. So that was exactly what she decided to do. She made herself comfortable on the bed and just resigned herself to the fact that she would have to force her eyelids to remain open and wait for James to come back.
Chapter Five
Rebecca yawned as she lit the small lamp in the middle of the table then returned to the bed. She thought staying awake would be difficult, as exhaustion tugged at every last fiber in her body. However, when she tried closing her eyes, it was all for naught. Her mind refused to be still long enough for sleep to come. The harder she tried, the more elusive sleep became. Finally, she conceded defeat, and that was when she rose from the bed to bring some light into the gloomy cabin.
