Chapter Three
The other man in the room gazed at Camilla in a leisurely fashion, making her stomach roll. She took a calming breath to keep from embarrassing herself and retching in front of Malcolm’s guests.
Mr. Worthington’s friend appeared older than Malcolm by at least ten years, but Mr. Kennedy was handsome, nonetheless. Streaks of silver highlighted his dark brown hair. He smiled at her as if they shared a delicious secret. Her stomach twisted again. Right now, she wanted to forget that her sister and this man might possibly have a past together.
She studied Mrs. Kennedy and realized Beth spoke the truth. Poor Mrs. Kennedy didn’t have a single redeeming feature. Exceedingly plain, the skittish woman acted as if she were afraid of her own shadow.
Then Camilla rested her attention on Malcolm. Her heart must have stopped—either that or she forgot how to breathe. He looked so incredibly handsome in his evening attire. The bluish charcoal of his waistcoat matched his trousers, accenting his warm hazel eyes. His white ruffled shirt complemented his tanned skin. She had never seen anyone so handsome. Even the way his gaze slowly swept over her made her skin prickle with awareness.
Never in her life had she experienced these heady, disturbing feelings, even while married to her husband. Then again, theirs was an arranged marriage, and she had been utterly miserable.
Malcolm smiled and stepped forward, taking her hand in his. He bowed and placed a small kiss on her knuckles. Her heart raced out of control. His masculine scent of spice seeped into her senses and overwhelmed her, making her mind whirl and the room spin. She couldn’t lose control. Not now, and certainly not in front of their guests.
Malcolm straightened. “My dear Mrs. Worthington, you look lovely tonight.” His attention passed over her once again but lingered longer on her bosom.
“Thank you. And may I return the compliment? You are rather dashing tonight, my kind husband.”
He arched an eyebrow, and she was relieved the two guests behind him couldn’t see. Malcolm’s wary grin widened, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he took her hand and tucked it in the crook of his elbow, then turned toward his partner.
“Camilla, my dear, help me welcome our guests.”
Surprised to hear Malcolm say her name and not Kat’s, she hitched a breath. He’d only called her Kat in private to annoy her—or rather, her sister. But still, why did he use Camilla instead of Katherine?
Although a small pounding began in her forehead from all the confusion of the day, she did her best to converse with the Kennedys. During the evening, she remained conscious of how her sister might have performed. She exaggerated a flirtatious manner yet couldn’t force herself to act as flamboyant as she suspected her sister to have done. As the men talked politics, she tossed in her own thoughts, even though this was something Kat would not do. But when it came to politics, Camilla had never been able to keep her mouth shut.
She kept close attention to the topics of conversation. Not once did she feel these men were discussing traitorous secrets. Other than talking about their business, both appeared to be on the up-and-up.
Mr. Kennedy’s constant ogling irritated her, but she dared not show her displeasure. Although Mrs. Kennedy was polite and never commented on her husband’s behavior, Camilla thought it very bold of him to carry on the way he did in front of her. It hurt that Malcolm accepted his business partner’s conduct instead of stopping it. After all, she was supposed to be his wife.
Relief came when the evening ended, and she and Malcolm showed their guests to the front door. Malcolm acted the gentleman and placed a chaste kiss on Mrs. Kennedy’s knuckles, but when Mr. Kennedy tried to do the same to Camilla, he didn’t act polite at all. His lips lingered on her hand, disgust crawled inside her, and she quickly withdrew.
The arrogant man had the audacity to toss her a devilish grin. If Mrs. Kennedy were not present, Camilla would have slapped the rogue’s face. Perhaps she would just wait until she was alone with Malcolm and shake some sense into him for not coming to her defense.
Once the door closed, Malcolm turned and strode past her. She waited for him to say something, but he hurried up the stairs to his bedroom without glancing her way. Anger washed over her, painfully wrenching her stomach. A million times tonight she had wanted to reprimand him. But now, when she had the chance, he left her standing alone, wallowing in her annoyance.
Camilla hurried to her room to change into her nightdress. The weary, stressful day had taken its toll, and she would relish sleep. Beth had placed her nightgown on the bed and poured water in the copper tub. The steamy bath beckoned, and she couldn’t wait to relax.
She sat on the edge of her bed and slipped off her shoes. Stretching her feet in front of her, she wiggled her toes, enjoying the freedom from the shoes’ restriction. As she stood, she reached for the buttons behind her gown, but couldn’t quite touch them. A knock sounded at the door, and she was grateful to have Beth coming to help. “Come in.”
Still fidgeting with the dress, she walked toward her bathing chamber. “Could you please help me with these buttons? I cannot seem to reach them.”
“Are you certain you want my help?” a man’s deep voice answered.
She gasped and swung around. Malcolm stood in the doorway, minus his evening coat and waistcoat. His missing cravat and unbuttoned shirt allowed her a glimpse of his muscular neck and chest. Her heart accelerated. He looked so casual, so relaxed, and so irritatingly handsome.
Was he here for a little entertainment only his wife could give? She could not… She would not. The mere thought terrified her, yet excitement danced over her skin at the same time. Breathing deeper, she reminded herself he wouldn’t want to share his wife’s bed if he loathed her very presence.
She cleared her tight throat. “Forgive me, but I thought you were my maid.”
“Obviously.” He stepped toward her. “But since I am here, I might as well assist you.”
“Don’t worry yourself.” She swallowed hard. “I can get it.”
“Nonsense. Accepting my help is perfectly proper.”
As he moved behind her, her hands trembled. One by one, he slid the buttons loose and cool air touched her back, accompanied by his warm breath. The combination of this with his soft fingers grazing her skin sent chills over her. Although her body was melting faster than a heated candle on a scorching day, she fought for control.
“I want to thank you for your little performance tonight,” he whispered huskily near her ear.
She shivered. Clutching her bodice tighter, she prayed it wouldn’t fall away from her. “What performance?”
He laughed lightly. “You seem to forget I have seen you and Brandon Kennedy together. Since when have you cared for his wife’s delicate feelings and snubbed Brandon’s flirtation?”
With the last button undone, she turned and faced him, still holding her bodice to her chest. “Since I have seen how much it bothers his wife.” She arched a brow. “And while we are on the subject, why did you not put a stop to his flirtations? You have eyes and could see it bothered Mrs. Kennedy.”
He folded his arms across his wide chest, drawing her attention to that specific part of his body that would now be forever branded in her memory. She lifted her gaze, and his eyes were just as earth-shatteringly effective.
“Why should I put a stop to it?” He shrugged. “Mrs. Kennedy knows about her husband’s liaisons. She is not a dimwit.”
Inwardly, Camilla groaned. Malcolm had confirmed her worst fear. But even though he knew, he apparently didn’t care. That explained why he had treated Kat so horribly.
“Believe it or not, I have changed,” she said, trying to sound convincing. “I will not be an embarrassment to you or your family any longer.”
His eyes widened and he laughed. “Oh, this is too much, Kat. First you dress differently…” He stepped closer, and her heart nearly leapt right out of her body. His gaze dipped to her bosom as he tugged at the lace handkerchief between her fingers until he’d pulled it completely out. “I do not think I have ever seen you hide yourself before.” He touched a tendril by her ear. “And now you are wearing your hair like a regal lady and acting the part in front of guests.” His finger trailed down her neck. “What strange form has moved into your body and taken over? Up until now, you have never bothered to help my children, yet this afternoon I hear you sewed a rip in James’s breeches.” He shook his head. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were an imposter.”
Her chest constricted. “What an absurd thing to say, Mr. Worthington. Who else could I be?”
“Who indeed?” The corners of his mouth lifted. “But I didn’t come to discuss your scheming heart. I came to thank you for a pleasant evening.” He nodded and turned to leave, but before reaching the door, he peered at her over his shoulder. “Have a good rest, Mrs. Worthington.”
She smiled, though her knees quaked so badly they threatened to topple her. “And the same to you.”
After he left, her breathing evened out, but she doubted rest would come easily this night.
*
A new dawncrept through the partially opened drapes of Malcolm’s room, touching and stirring him from the depths of a dream he didn’t want to remember. Last night’s events had kept his mind awake into the wee hours of the morning. Despite his sluggish body, he pulled himself from his exhausted state and climbed out of bed. The refreshingly cool air stroked his skin, awakening him even more. With half-closed eyes he slid into his robe, before ringing for his manservant.
His servant carried up buckets of water and filled the copper tub. Once he was relaxed in the liquid comfort, Malcolm’s foggy memory of the previous evening claimed thoughts. His wife had been stunning, and her charming personality made a better impression than normal on his guests, yet nothing about her was normal.
Why had she acted so different last night?
Although she still paraded around in clothes unbefitting the mold he’d wanted for his wife, something strange had happened in the way she carried herself. Her words were polite, respectful, and she spoke in quieter tones. Kat hadn’t even wanted to stand by Kennedy, let alone flirt with him. It also surprised Malcolm to discover she had an intelligent mind. Since they had married, he thought of her as a brainless henwit, but last night she’d presented herself in a new light. Not only did she have a head for business, but her political views had also changed.
Her actions confirmed his suspicions, and he needed to maintain his guard. He couldn’t allow himself to soften toward her. With one little snap of her fingers, she could have him in front of the firing squad or a hangman’s noose. He had to do what she wanted, if just for a few months longer.
After his bath, he dressed his best for the important meeting this morning. Colonel Burwell had scheduled an appointment to consider the sketches Malcolm had drawn for the new vessels the prince regent’s navy were interested in purchasing. And, if all went according to plan, Malcolm would find himself a guest at the colonel’s weekend party in a couple of weeks.
Exactly what he wanted in order to spy on the man.
He studied his reflection in the mirror as he tied his cravat and grinned. One way or another, he’d find not only the person responsible for stealing the drawings Malcolm had been working on for the prince’s navy, but he would find the person responsible for trying to ruin his life. He knew they were two separate people, and he had to keep searching for more clues.
However, he had to do this alone. Mr. Kennedy and the other partner, Mr. Joseph Crowley, couldn’t suspect what Malcolm was trying to accomplish—just in case they were involved, too. Under no circumstances would he allow someone to ruin his good name… even if it meant doing things that may not be legal in order to make justice prevail.
For the past twelve months, he’d secretly been soliciting himself and his drawings to the neighboring towns and farther out. He absolutely hated working with Brandon Kennedy, and he wanted to be on his own once more. But in order to make the money he was accustomed to, he must sneak around without anyone knowing. Especially Kat. If his wife knew, she’d run to Kennedy, and the man would drop Malcolm as a partner. Until he had enough clients on his own, he had to stay with Kennedy and Crawley.
Sadly, he suspected Kat was behind the stolen drawings, but he couldn’t figure out how or why.
His upcoming meeting with the highly decorated prince regent’s soldier was very important, and he couldn’t let Kat sabotage this deal. But could the colonel have reasons for contacting Malcolm other than to draw plans for the vessels?
Malcolm shook his head, trying to force the questions to leave. He couldn’t think of that. Right now, Kat’s return would be of the utmost importance. Her strange behavior made him more prudent.
Slipping on his waistcoat, he strode out of the room. Halfway down the stairs, voices of his wife and one of the servants lifted, echoing in the corridor. He stopped, wondering why Kat was awake at this hour. And why were she and the cook discussing the shopping list? Kat had never once acted the part of his wife, especially when it came to household duties.
Quiet as possible, he stepped softly into the corridor. Kat’s back faced him, and the schoolmarm’s knot of hair on her head made him pause. What happened to the wild, untamed mass of curls she always wore? And why was she wearing a conservative dress? The straight lines of the high-waisted yellow and dark brown gown flattened over her back yet accentuated her slender neck. She looked very regal, and very fitting as his wife. Finally.
If only she was the woman he’d always wanted, instead of one that didn’t keep to her marriage vows.
Clearing his throat, he forced his thoughts in a different direction. When she turned and he caught the full effect of the modest dress, his interest in her grew. Why did she look prettier than he’d ever seen her? Anger boiled inside him, and he clenched his fists. That was something he should not think about her.
He narrowed his eyes. “Good morning, Mrs. Worthington. You are up early this morning.”
She smiled, and for the first time he could remember, it looked genuine. She stepped toward him as Horace moved into the kitchen.
“I could not sleep a moment longer. The sun practically pushed me out of bed.” Camilla’s voice lifted with enthusiasm.
An ache pounded in his forehead, and he rubbed it with his fingers. Something wasn’t right. She usually slept late because of her nocturnal interests. “What are your plans for the day, may I ask?”
“I’m collecting a shopping list and will venture into the marketplace. I thought about taking James and Lizzy.”
Anger grew inside his chest like a boiling volcano. What was she thinking? He could never trust her with his children again. Shaking her back to reality seemed like a logical choice, but instead, he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Why would you want to take my children with you, may I ask?”
Her smile faded. “I… I just thought they might enjoy an outing.”
“Why, so you can leave them frightened and alone again?”
She frowned, but blinked with surprise. Clearly, she was appalled by his words.
“I wouldn’t do that,” she said.
He rolled his eyes. “Of course not,” he mocked. “Except for those occasions you were tempted by another man and felt the urge to be alone with him, instead of watching my children.”
She sucked in a quick breath but kept her chin up. “I assure you, the children will be at my side at all times.”
“Do you expect me to believe you?” He folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t think so. I will feel more at ease if you take along one of the servants.”
“As you wish.”
What he wished was to understand her. Since she returned, her actions had left him very confused. Frustration built inside him as he wondered what schemes were brewing in that devious mind of hers. He knew how to handle her shrewish ways, but not her complacency.
He stepped closer, and the skirt of her dress brushed against his leg. Her rose scent surrounded him, and he breathed in the heavenly fragrance. He wondered why she wasn’t wearing the overpowering perfume that could stun small animals helpless for several minutes like she’d always worn.
Hard to admit, but he liked the changes in her. At the same time, he couldn’t control the doubts burning inside his head. She’d mentioned before she wanted to change, but he just couldn’t grasp the notion that she would. And even if she wanted to change, it didn’t matter. He had no room in his heart for women like her.
“Kat, I know not of your game, but mark my words, you will not succeed in toying with my mind any longer. You will not win, especially when it comes to my children.”
Her throat jumped. She blinked several times as excess moisture built in her eyes. Through her obvious emotional state, she kept her chin high and back straight. When she touched the sleeve of his arm, her hand shook, and once again he questioned her motives.
“Malcolm, please believe I will not harm your children. While I was away tending to my ailing sister, I realized the error of my behavior, and I vowed I would do everything possible to change myself.” She licked her trembling lips. “I will not hurt James and Lizzy ever again.”
A small throb built inside his head and confusion overwhelmed him. She was a good performer, but he wouldn’t fall victim to her schemes, and he’d make certain his children didn’t either.
“Mrs. Worthington, I will never again trust you with my children. If you want them to come with you then take a servant.” She withdrew her hand, but he grabbed her wrist. “And if I find out you have hurt them, I swear to God—”
“Malcolm, I’ll not hurt them. I assure you.”
He detected a spark of fear in her wide eyes, and a hint of sadness, too. He quickly ushered out the idea of her being sorry for her actions. Kat cared naught for anyone but herself. This was just part of her plan to destroy him.
He dropped her wrist like a hot coal and stepped back. “Make certain Jane goes with you. Have a pleasant afternoon, Mrs. Worthington.”
Tears filled her eyes. He couldn’t stand to look at her any longer—for fear her tears would make him sorry for his words—so he turned and stormed out of the house. Indeed, she was a great performer, but he would stay one step ahead of her.