Chapter Seven
The glare from the sun hitting the window stung Malcolm’s eyes as he peeled them open. He scowled at the men occupying his bedchambers, but mainly at Captain Wilkes. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
The soldiers aimed their wide-eyed gazes at Camilla, seemingly perplexed and at a loss for words. Malcolm glanced over his shoulder at his wife. He sucked in a breath. In the light, she created an alluring silhouette. Although her face was scarlet, she looked absolutely breathtaking. Her light brown hair wildly framed her head. Her modest white nightgown made her appear as pure as newly fallen snow. How could she look that way when she was exactly the opposite?
But at the moment, it didn’t matter. He was stunned. He forced away the inappropriate thoughts creeping into his head and concentrated on the uninvited men in his room. “Excuse me, sirs, but have you no decency? Bursting into a man’s private chambers while he and his wife are still under the covers is very ill-mannered.”
“Umm, well…” Captain Wilkes’s cheeks flushed red. “You see, Mr. Worthington, we came to ask you a few questions about last night.”
“And this couldn’t wait until I was out of bed and dressed?” Scowling, he leaned over and pulled the quilt up, bundling it around Camilla, who, thankfully, had the decorum to look embarrassed. He was almost proud of her acting ability.
Broderick stepped forward. “Mr. Worthington, the captain thought it imperative to speak to you right away. Trouble occurred at Mr. Clarkston’s office last night, and a witness thought they saw you as part of the group of men.”
Malcolm inhaled sharply. “I fear you are mistaken, Captain Wilkes. I was home last night, reading stories to my children and enjoying the, er… company of my wife.”
Broderick cleared his throat as his gaze moved to Camilla. A blush crept up his neck. “I have already told them as much, Mr. Worthington.”
Malcolm turned his attention back to Captain Wilkes. “Explain to me, captain, why the royal soldiers are involved with this matter anyway? Shouldn’t this be something for the constable to investigate?”
Captain Wilkes arched an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten that one of Mr. Clarkston’s sons is a soldier?” He puffed out his chest. “We take care of our own.”
Malcolm rolled his eyes. “Well, captain? As you can see, I wasn’t part of that group. What have you to say now when the proof is right before you?” He nodded toward Camilla.
The captain stepped forward and removed his hat then clutched it against his chest. He looked directly at Camilla. “Mrs. Worthington? Can you confirm your husband has been here in the house with you all night?”
She snuggled closer to Malcolm, and he wrapped his arm around her. He still couldn’t understand why she had offered to help, but at the moment he was grateful she had. Yet could this be a trap? Awaiting her answer, he held his breath.
“Yes, captain. My husband was with me the entire night.”
Malcolm exhaled a deep sigh.
“My deepest apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Worthington.” The captain nodded, then stepped away, as did the other soldiers. A few moments later, the thudding of their boots on the stairs echoed their descent.
Broderick winked and nodded at Camilla. “I shall leave you two alone now.” Then he closed the door behind him.
Silence ensued for a few awkward minutes. Malcolm prolonged the moment, savoring the feel of her soft body nestled against him. But then reality struck, and he pulled away and tried to think of something intelligent to say. Her kindness of late—mixed with her beauty—had created an unexplained numbness in his brain. When he glanced at her, a timid smile touched her heart-shaped mouth.
“I suppose I can say a pleasant morning to you now,” she said.
He sat up fully, keeping the covers protectively around his lower half as he pulled up his knees and rested his arms across them. “Well, considering the way I was awakened, I don’t think it has been very pleasant so far.” He cocked a brow and ran his focus over her tousled figure. “Of course, I must amend that. The way I was awakened was quite pleasurable, but once I awoke, reality intruded. Tell me, how was your night? Did you sleep well?”
A blush tinted her cheeks, and she looked adorable. “Yes.”
He chuckled. “I want to thank you for what you did, but—” He blew out a gust of air and ran his fingers through his hair. “Why did you crawl into bed with me, knowing the soldiers were on their way up?”
Her eyes avoided his. She appeared to study his back, and then her gaze slowly wandered over his chest. That simple look caused the inner demon of desire to ignite his body, and he finally admitted he enjoyed the way she studied him, as if she had never seen anything so pleasing in her life. That was something she had never done before.
Her cheeks darkened and she cleared her throat, then pulled herself into a sitting position beside him. “Considering I haven’t led an exemplary life since I married you, I realized the soldiers wouldn’t believe my story unless they saw me in your bed. I didn’t want you accused of a crime you didn’t commit, and this was the only way for me to prove them wrong.”
Could he believe her sincerity? She appeared so innocent, so honest. Yet her past made him cautious. He wasn’t about to tell her the real reason he and Broderick were at the tavern last night. She would run to her precious Captain Wilkes and give the information to him.
Malcolm nodded. “Thank you for your quick thinking, then.”
She turned to slide out of bed, but he reached out and placed his hand on her leg, stopping her. Her brilliant eyes stared at him, bringing back feelings he didn’t want to have, but this time he rather enjoyed the way his body burned. “I don’t know why you did it, but I thank you. You saved my backside.”
Her gaze dipped to his buttocks. A blush flamed her cheeks. “And such a perfect backside to save.” She smiled before climbing out of bed and slipping the robe around her.
He watched her leave his room, growing more uncomfortable by the second, mainly because he didn’t know if this was a trick or not. Letting out another big sigh, he lay back in bed. It was getting harder and harder to resist her. Strange, because he’d been so immune before she’d left to go help her sister. What could be different now? Was it possible she really had changed?
*
The following week,Camilla stayed home and played games with the children. She and James formed an attachment, but Lizzy proved more difficult. The adorable little child played with them, but still refused to speak.
Stepping into the role of woman of the house, Camilla enjoyed planning the daily meals and organizing the staff, just as she had done when she was married to Fredrick. Doing something productive took her mind off her worries.
At first most of the servants seemed afraid of her, but as the days flew by, they warmed up just as James had. Camilla dared to ask them questions about Malcolm, hoping they wouldn’t suspect she was prying for information to see if he was the criminal Kat had mentioned, but the staff only knew Malcolm as a kind, understanding, and hardworking man.
Learning more from Malcolm proved extremely difficult, though. After the little incident with the soldiers in the bedroom, he’d hardly spoken to her. Every day he worked late at the office, blaming it on the new line of ships they planned to build for the navy. In the back of Camilla’s mind, she doubted his story, especially when her maid mentioned Malcolm didn’t build ships—he just drew the plans.
Another evening came with Malcolm staying late at work, so she put the children to bed. James kissed her cheek and gave her a hug. Lizzy only hugged her.
As she left and walked downstairs, the house was too quiet, so she wandered into the library. Not really knowing what she was in the mood to read right now, she walked around the room, touching Malcolm’s belongings, hoping by doing this, she would feel closer to him.
She shouldn’t be so emotional, but she couldn’t help feeling like a love-struck child. The man’s piercing gaze forced her to experience new feelings, things she had no right to enjoy. Since the day they met, his unkind words had struck like a knife to her chest, even though they were aimed at Kat. His treatment of her should have frightened her and hardened her heart against the rogue, but it only made her want to show him how different she was. She wasn’t anything like her twin.
A strong knock pounded on the front door, and she jumped. Who could be here at this time of night?
After settling her nerves, she walked into the entry hall and opened the heavy oak door. When she recognized the man standing before her, her heart plummeted to the floor. What was Brandon Kennedy doing here? Wasn’t he at the office working late with Malcolm?
He leaned against the door and gave her a sly grin. “Good evening, Mrs. Worthington. I hope I have not caught you at a bad time.”
He stepped into the house without an invitation and closed the door behind him. Irritation filled her, but she would remain polite. “No, Mr. Kennedy, you have not caught me at a bad time. In fact, I have just put the children to bed.”
The rude man glanced around the corridor, then up the stairs. “Is your husband about? I need a moment with him.”
She hesitated to tell him her husband was working late, because Mr. Kennedy would certainly know if Malcolm was at the office.
“I believe he and Broderick stepped out for a little while.” She paused, hoping she could get rid of him quickly. “Is there a way I might assist you?”
Brandon gave her a mischievous smile, confirming her suspicions. He hadn’t come to see Malcolm at all.
He motioned to the parlor. “May we speak in private?”
“We have privacy now, Mr. Kennedy. I don’t see anybody around.” She primly clasped her hands to stop them from trembling.
He tilted his head to the side and raised his dark eyebrows. “I think you know what I mean.” Without waiting for an invitation, he walked into the parlor. “You have kept to yourself lately, and I came to inquire about your welfare.”
She took a quick inspection of the corridor and upstairs, hoping someone would be around so she wouldn’t have to face this man on her own. She pressed her linked hands against her stomach to cease the sudden churning inside. “Thank you for your concern, but I am well.”
His bold gaze raked over her, and her stomach lurched. Thankfully, she had chosen to wear one of her own gowns instead of her sister’s.
“Actually, Camilla, I have noticed a change in you, and I don’t think you are well at all.” He walked toward her. She remained still until he stood in front of her. He rested his hand on her shoulder, lightly caressing his thumb over her sleeve. “Didn’t you think I would notice when my lover shuts me out of her life?”
She knocked his hand away. “Mr. Kennedy, I don’t think it’s my place to hear about what happens between you and your wife.”
He laughed, and then stepped closer, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. She lifted her hand to block the contact, and struck his hard chest. “Mr. Kennedy, I must protest.”
“Oh, my dear Camilla, you can be so coy when you want to be.”
“Well, right now, I choose to be uncooperative.”
She pushed harder, and when that didn’t faze him, she stomped on his foot. Releasing a small yelp, he let her go. She hurried out of the room and to the library. The rude man followed with a slight limp. She moved around one of the sofas, keeping it between them.
“Mr. Kennedy, I don’t welcome your attentions,” she said, out of breath. “I have a good relationship with my husband, and I would like to keep it that way.”
Anger lines creased his forehead and around his pursed lips. A spark of fire lit his eyes.
“You thought you would use me to get what you wanted then discard me like some wealthy man’s leftovers?” He shook his head. “I think not, Camilla. We had a bargain, one you were quite eager to see through, may I remind you.” He folded his arms. “I took your husband on as my partner just as you wanted, and now you refuse my attentions?”
“I have decided it was a mistake, and I wish to withdraw.” Anger swept through her, making her breathe faster. How long could she hold out before screaming for assistance?
“Too late, my sweet.” He chuckled. “If you withdraw, I’ll have to release your husband as my partner. Now, that would not be very ethical, would it?”
Taking slower breaths, she calmed her panic, which gave her strength. She wasn’t about to give in to his threats, but then, she didn’t want to see Malcolm without a job.
She lifted her chin in defiance. “By joining your business with Malcolm’s, I have made you a rich man. If you let him go now, I can assure you your business will flounder. If you remember correctly, you cannot build vessels unless you have a drawing first.”
His dark brows drew together, and he sneered. “You little hussy.”
“But I think you knew that when you decided to make a deal with me, am I correct?”
He stomped toward her, fire dancing in his eyes. She skirted away, keeping large objects between them.
“Your husband wants something badly, and I’m the only one who can get it for him. Are you willing to risk that lovely neck for him once again?”
“I’m certain I don’t know what you mean.”
“He wants an invitation to Colonel Burwell’s country estate party this weekend, and I’m the only person who can get him in.”
She straightened. “If you think I’ll lower myself to do your bidding just so my husband can go to some party, you are sadly mistaken.” She pointed to the door. “Now, Mr. Kennedy, I do believe you have overstayed your welcome. Next time, may I suggest waiting for an invitation before dropping by?”
“I’m not finished with you.”
“Oh, but you are. If you don’t leave in the next minute, I will call for one of my servants and have you physically removed from this house.”
He scowled and stormed out of the room toward the front door.
“Have a good evening, Mr. Kennedy, and give your wife my regards.”
After the door slammed shut, Camilla exhaled, releasing all her anger. Her hands trembled, as did her knees. Could what Mr. Kennedy have said about Malcolm wanting to be invited to the colonel’s party be correct? But why? Malcolm didn’t look like a man who attended such functions.
When her legs could no longer hold her up, she wobbled toward the sofa. Just before she reached it, her toe caught on the rug, and she tripped. Her hand bumped the family Bible placed on the side table, making it fall on the floor. She righted herself then slumped on the cushions.
As she picked up the papers that fell out of the Bible, one caught her eye—a marriage certificate.
She traced her fingers across Malcolm’s name and a woman by the name of Victoria. James had never spoken of his mother, and of course Malcolm wasn’t going to offer any information, but the niggle of curiosity had her wanting to know about the woman who had been Malcolm’s first love. Had he truly been in love with Victoria, or had he married her like he’d married Kat—quick and without proper time to get acquainted?
She glanced at the other sheet of paper—another marriage certificate. In big, bold letters, her very own maiden name jumped out at her: Camilla Emily Connelly. She gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth. I’m married to Malcolm? Ridiculous. Why had her sister forged her name on her own marriage certificate? At least that explained why they called her Camilla.
Her heartbeat quickened. A knot formed in her throat. From this certificate, it appeared as if Malcolm had married her instead of Kat. This couldn’t possibly be legal. She must find out these answers without raising suspicions.
Is Malcolm my husband… or Kat’s?