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Seducing the Ruthless Rogue

Page 31

by Tammy Jo Burns


  “There’s another thing, she loves you,” Mikala said.

  “Kala, I don’t think you should get involved in this,” Gabe said.

  “Perhaps, but then I think someone should have intervened with us.” She swung back around and looked at her brother-in-law. “Besides looks, I’m having a difficult time determining what exactly she sees in you by the way you treat her. You need to open your eyes and see what a wonderful wife you have before she’s gone.”

  “She’s leaving? I ordered her not to,” Mack spoke for the first time since Mikala’s tirade began. He started to step around the group when a firm, feminine hand halted his progress. He looked down to see the hand attached to Mikala. “What now?” he asked between almost closed lips.

  “You don’t listen to anything. It would serve you right if she did leave you, because again, you don’t deserve her. Mack, I have never in my life been so furious with you.”

  “Whose daughters did she anger? Perhaps I can go and fix the situation.”

  “I can’t believe you,” Mikala snapped. “You are willing to beg people to forgive Cassie for defending you because it might bring you some sort of personal gain? You would let people demean the both of you? You sicken me,” she snarled.

  Mack took a menacing step forward when he felt himself slammed backwards into the tall brick wall that enclosed the yard. He was looking into the familiar face of his brother.

  “You will not approach my wife in anger. Do you understand?”

  Mack said nothing. “I asked if you understood?” Gabe asked, slamming Mack against the wall once more.

  “Yes,” Mack muttered, but Gabe did not release him.

  “I hope to hell you wizen up between here and your house. When are you going to figure out that what you have at home is worth a hundred times any one of those people in that house? And what would it matter if you were in control of the War Office the rest of your life? You excel at it.” He let go of Mack and the other man stumbled slightly before regaining his footing. “You had better get yourself in order and figure out what you want in life. I only hope it’s not too late.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Come now, Mack, naïveté does not become you.”

  “What in bloody hell are you talking about?”

  “Men are lusting after your wife everywhere she goes. She is the talk of London. Should someone talk persuasively enough, it would be easy enough to lure her away from you. You would never see her again. I imagine she would get treated a hell of a lot better by any one of them. She could be someone’s mistress, including Prinny’s. No ties, free to do as she wishes. Mistresses usually are treated better than the wife.”

  “Gabe!” Mikala yelled when she saw Mack swing his fist. Gabe ducked then landed an upper right in Mack’s mid-section before following through with a left-hook to his chin. Mack’s head popped back against the wall causing him to see stars before he slid to the ground.

  “Come on,” Gabe grabbed Mikala while Derek led Tessa away.

  “Should we just leave him there?” Tessa asked, concern lacing her voice.

  “He’ll come around eventually,” Gabe said.

  “I hope,” Mikala muttered for an entirely different reason.

  Chapter 27

  Fat raindrops fell on Mack’s face. That was the first awareness he had after the altercation with his brother. There were only a few drops to serve as a warning before the torrent followed. He placed his hand on the drenched grass and pushed himself up. His abdomen ached and his chin felt bruised. Mack rubbed a hand along the back of his head and winced when he felt a knot. He looked down at his sodden clothes and knew he could not be seen by the people inside the Bathurst house. He kept to the perimeter of the yard until he found a gate.

  It must be later than he thought because only a few coaches remained in the queue of those waiting for their occupants. Mack turned up his collar and walked towards his house. He kept trying to stop his mind from replaying the altercation between himself and the two couples. But as much as he tried to stop it from playing in his mind, it would not be silenced.

  She defended you.

  Only as an afterthought did she defend herself.

  She loves you.

  You sicken me.

  What you have at home is worth a hundred times any one of those people in that house.

  She loves you.

  Men are lusting after your wife.

  It would be easy enough to lure her away from you.

  She loves you.

  She could be someone’s mistress, including Prinny’s.

  Mistresses usually are treated better than the wife.

  She loves you.

  She loved him, but how did he feel about her? He was possessive of her, but was that love? Mikala was right. He had been willing to rush into that house and throw himself at the mercy of those strangers after what Cassie had done. The rain continued to pour as he walked along the deserted London streets. Had he felt the need for approval so strongly that he was willing to seek it from strangers? Was the approval of strangers and colleagues more important to him than that of his wife and family?

  “Damn, Laird—” He cut himself off from finishing the thought. That path of thought led to nothing but hatred and blame. It was also time, Mack realized, that he quit laying the blame on someone else’s door. At some point he had to take responsibility for his own decisions and mistakes. Mack rounded the corner and saw most of the windows blazed with lights in their home. A soft glow could barely be seen where Cassie’s bedroom was located, or the bedroom she had been occupying. He walked up the short path to the front door and it opened just as he approached. Chilton stood on the other side.

  “Good evening, sir.”

  “Chilton. Did Mrs. McKenzie make it home?”

  “Yes, sir. They are seeing to her now.”

  “They?”

  “Yes, sir. Mr. Chang and a friend.”

  “Thank you.” Mack trudged up the stairs and entered the room. Only one small candle struggled to fight the darkness that encroached on the room. John and Chang stood back as a small Chinese woman placed long, thin pins in Cassie’s skin. Pins? “What the hell are you doing to my wife?” Mack yelled, forcing his way into the room past the two men.

  “Sir, wait,” John held up his hand, but Mack ignored him and pushed past him.

  Mack reached for the shriveled old woman, determined to stop her when he went flying through the air. He landed on his back, staring at the dark ceiling. Chang stood over him in a position that clearly indicated he would do whatever it took to protect his mistress.

  “Missy Cassie in good hands. You hurt her if remove pins. Mingzhu is healer.” The little woman turned and began chattering animatedly to Chang. “Mingzhu said you bring bad qí in room. Must leave. Not good for Missy Cassie.”

  “I will not leave. She’s my wife! Let me up.”

  “Go away,” he heard a weak moan from the bed.

  “Cassie, we need to talk.” He approached the bed. “I can’t take this. This is ridiculous. If you won’t remove these bloody pins, I will.” He reached for one and the old woman slapped his hand, speaking gibberish.

  “Please, sir,” John spoke up. “She is so much better than when she first arrived home.”

  The woman began talking once more, making shooing motions with her hands.

  “Come, sir. You’ll feel better after you’ve changed out of those wet clothes.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Mack muttered. They went through the connecting door that led to the master’s suite. Upon entering, Mack saw a bath set up in the corner and steaming water rising from it. A shiver overtook him as footmen entered carrying more buckets. “Well, John, it seems as if you’re moving up in ranks. No more carrying my bath water.”

  “Yes,” the man chuckled as he tugged at the superfine. “This will be three sizes too small for you by the time it dries.”

  “So it will. Cassie. Was she really that bad?�


  “I’ve never seen anything like it, sir. She could not function. Her maid and another had to come in and undress her. They said she was like a rag doll. And sick. I thought I would see her stomach lying in the chamber pot before it was over. Chang called it a migraine. Said she has had them before. He left the house as soon as she arrived. He was back within the hour with Mingzhu.”

  “And the needles?”

  “Since Chang has come to be part of our household, I have been reading up on the Chinese and their beliefs. It seems there is a practice called acupuncture that involves these thin needles. They can help with all sorts of ailments if applied correctly.”

  “And this bad ‘qí’ she told me I was bringing?”

  “I’ll have to look again, but if I remember it is how energy flows. They believe energy is everywhere. In us and around us, and there is both good and bad.”

  “And I am bad.”

  “I don’t think one is always bad. I think you’re just having a bad night from the looks of it, sir.”

  “That is an understatement.” Once both boots were removed, Mack dismissed John. He pushed his pants off and tossed them in a wet heap in one of the empty buckets the footmen had left behind, then he walked over and sank into the bath, sighing as the hot water chased away the chill. A timid knock sounded at the door before John walked in once more. “Yes?” Mack leaned back against the lip of the tub and closed his eyes once more after seeing who entered his domain.

  “Sir, the driver was checking the inside of the carriage to make sure Mrs. McKenzie didn’t leave anything behind. He found this stuffed down between the seat and the side wall and brought it to me just a few moments ago. I thought you would want to see it immediately.” He held out a crumpled piece of paper.

  “Just lay it on the desk over there.”

  “Yes, sir, but I really think you should look at it now.”

  “Fine,” he ripped the paper from John’s hand, giving the man a hard glare. He saw that the envelope was addressed to Cassie. He removed the paper within and read it,

  Tic Toc. Hear that? It’s not a clock. It’s the very last beats of your husband’s heart. Enjoy what time you have left.

  He held the paper out to John after reading it through several more times. “Thank you, John. I apologize for my abruptness. Please make sure the house is secured.”

  “Already taken care of.”

  “Have the footmen rotate around the clock as well as the stable hands.”

  “Already done. Anything else?”

  “No, good night.”

  “Good night.”

  Mack had a sudden, desperate need to see Cassie, to make certain that she was well.

  ***

  He wore a pair of loose Cossack pants and only his robe over them, much as he had that first night when the raven had been impaled on the tree. He muted all the lights in his room before crossing to the connecting door and opening it. There, in the bed, lay Cassie. She no longer looked like a seamstress’ pin cushion, which he was thankful for.

  He silently padded across the room. A ladder back chair sat next to the bed. He flipped it around so he could straddle it and lean against the back. The candle’s flame had long since died, and just the barest hint of moonlight entered the room. There was, however, a fine trail of smoke drifting towards the ceiling, giving off some sort of smell in the room. Most likely it was something else to improve the bad qí I left behind, he thought.

  Mack crossed his arms on the uppermost rung of the chair back and rested his chin on his crossed forearms. He watched Cassie inhale then exhale. Mingzhu was right. He carried bad qí and he either needed to figure out how to fix it, or let Cassie go, regardless of the stigma. She did not deserve being continually hurt. Mack replayed the words Mikala, Tessa, and Gabe had thrown at him over and over. Deep down, he knew they were correct, but between that knowledge and his heart was a chasm so wide and deep he didn’t know if love would be enough to breach it. Did he love Cassie? He pondered it a moment. He thought he might, but what did he have to use as a guide? Laird McKenzie and his mother? The previous Duke and Duchess of Hawkescliffe?

  “You have all your friends and their wives, you idiot,” he whispered to himself.

  Cassie’s eyes fluttered at his words. He remained silent hoping she would go back to sleep, but she didn’t. Her eyes opened, and she blinked a few times before she focused on him.

  “Hello,” he said softly.

  “‘Lo,” she managed to get out. “Water.”

  He stood and stepped around the chair. He took the glass of water on her side table and lifted her head so that she could take a sip. “Better?”

  “Yes.”

  He gently laid her head back down, replaced the glass, and reassumed the spot he had vacated.

  “Staring.”

  “I’m worried about you. What causes these?”

  “Stress.”

  “Does it still hurt?”

  “Yes, but not as bad.”

  “I’ve been an arse to you,” Mack said. He watched one lone tear slip down her temple and get lost in the silvery blonde strands of her hair. “No more tears,” he said, reaching out and erasing the track. “Mikala and Tessa told me about the debutantes.”

  “Shouldn’t have.”

  “They said you were something to behold.”

  “Horrible. I want no part of society.”

  He saw her wince and could see the blood rapidly pounding at the base of her throat. “Shhh, calm down. Breath slow and easy, that’s it,” he coaxed as he took her hand in his. His thumb slowly stroked the back of her hand. “I want to talk to you about something, but I don’t want you to get upset.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “We found the note in the coach.” He watched her, but her face remained placid.

  “Wanted to spare you.”

  “What were you planning on doing?”

  “Nothing.”

  “And is that why you crumpled it up and stuffed it betwixt the seat and the carriage wall?”

  “Exhausted and head still hurts,” she said, slipping her hand free of his.

  “Cassie, we can’t not talk about this.” He watched her close her eyes, her face revealing nothing of what she thought or felt. Mack continued to sit there and watch her until her breathing deepened. He believed her finally asleep. “They told me you loved me. Either they lied or I’ve already destroyed whatever you felt.” The chair screeched just slightly along the floor as he stood. He crossed the room and returned to his, leaving the door open so that he could see if someone entered or exited her room.

  ***

  Cassie had somehow kept herself together. Kept from showing him how she truly felt. Kept the love for him trapped deep within her. She had wanted to scream at him at the top of her lungs that she loved him with every fiber of her being, but she was a death sentence for him. She had already lost one person that she loved to this madman, she would not lose another.

  Cassie watched Mack through the open door. She felt like a voyeur watching her own husband. He took off his robe and draped it over the end of his bed. Mack left on his pants as he climbed on top of the bed. He did not pull the covers over him, and the little splash of moonlight spotlighted his naked chest, making her body pulse with awareness.

  “I love you, Mack,” she whispered so very softly. “You’ll never know just how much I love you.” Eventually, her eyes drifted closed.

  ***

  Mack stayed close to home the next day. He solicitously checked in on Cassie throughout the day, who still had a mild headache and was emotionally and physically drained. On one occasion, he sat at the feminine desk located in her room with papers spread all over and spilling onto the floor. Maps also lay scattered on the floor. The drapes were pulled open wide, letting sun into the room, so he could work. To protect Cassie’s eyes from the brightness of the room, a cloth soaked in lavender water rested across them, blocking out the light.

  A soft humming reached Cassie’
s ears, pulling her from the depths of sleep. She remained silent and still so as not to alarm the person in the room with her. The depth and huskiness of the voice told her it was her husband humming the song. Cassie found herself enchanted. Suddenly the music stopped.

  “I know you’re awake,” Mack said softly. “Ach, so this is how it’s going to be,” he continued when she remained silent. “Your breathing pattern has changed, so you might as well admit you’re awake beneath that cloth.”

  “I am,” Cassie replied. She heard a chair scrape across the floor and a few moments later the bed depressed beside her. Taking a deep breath, she could smell the scent of sandalwood he wore mixed with the lavender cloth covering her eyes. The combination was erotic and made Cassie’s pulse race. The cloth was slowly pulled away, giving her eyes time to adjust to the light in the room.

  “How are you feeling?” sincerity laced his voice.

  “Better. Lethargic, but I’ll live.”

  “Thank goodness. When I walked in last night and saw all those pins sticking out of you, I thought they were killing you.” Mack picked up her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

  “It’s strange to say the least, but it helps so much in the end…” she shrugged. “What was that song you were humming?”

  “Just something my mother used to hum to us children at night to get us to sleep. The Laird did not like his time with mother interrupted, so she would put us down as soon as possible.”

  “He was a beast, wasn’t he?”

  Mack shrugged. “I’m tired of this topic. He has ruined enough of my life and I refuse to give him an opportunity to ruin anymore of it. It seems that I need to thank you.”

  “For?”

  “Mikala and Tessa told me about the girls and how you stood up to them.”

  “Oh, that.” Cassie eyed the bedcover and nervously plucked at it.

  “Aye, that. Look at me,” he quietly ordered.

  She looked up into his eyes and saw the silvery depths sparkle with something she was very much afraid to put a name to or hope for. He moved in low, one hand braced beside her head on the pillow, the other still entwined with hers.

 

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