Chapter Nine
Malcolm climbed into his coach and tapped on the roof, then braced himself when the vehicle lurched into motion. Today had been as bad as yesterday—worse, in fact, because he couldn’t stop thinking about this morning’s kiss. Undoubtedly, his wife’s charms had bewitched him, because she was certainly an enchantress. How else could he explain the sudden yearnings he experienced whenever she was around?
Exhaling a deep sigh, he relaxed in the seat and stared out the window. The sun descended over the horizon, pink and red shades highlighting the sky. Another day was almost gone without an invitation to Colonel Burwell’s weekend party. His plans to secretly search the man’s house were slowly fading from his grasp, and he feared he would never be able to find out if the colonel was behind the unfortunate things that had been happening to Malcolm of late. He still felt the colonel had something to do with them.
Why hadn’t the insufferable colonel invited him? Did the man suspect what Malcolm was secretly searching for? Had Kat told him? Why else would he invite Brandon and not Malcolm? Indeed, this was probably part of the plan to ruin Malcolm’s good name. What else could it mean?
The coach stopped, and he climbed out, storming into the house. After closing the door, he detected a change in the atmosphere. Servants chatted happily amongst themselves, and his butler and groomsman whistled. Certainly out of the ordinary.
When Camilla’s personal maid scurried past him toward the next room, he stopped her. “Excuse me, Beth.”
She turned his way. “Aye, Mr. Worthington?”
“Have you seen my wife and children?”
“Oh, yes. They are upstairs in the nursery.”
“Splendid, but… where is my wife?”
“In the nursery with them.”
A confused throb caused a dull ache in his skull, and he rubbed his forehead. He bolted up the stairs and hurried into the nursery to see what Camilla was doing this time. Just before he reached the door, laughter echoed through the room. Not only James and Camilla’s voices, but a little girl’s, too.
He stopped inches from the door. Camilla and James sang a silly song as they clapped their hands together while Lizzy laughed. He leaned forward and peeked around the corner. His daughter’s face lit up as bright as sunshine. When the song stopped, she giggled and clapped her tiny hands.
“More, more,” she cheered.
Malcolm choked on a gasp, and his heart jumped to his throat. She spoke? When had this happened? He hurried into the room, and their laughter stopped.
“Papa,” James shouted, and ran to him. Lizzy lifted herself off the floor and grinned.
Malcolm gave James a quick hug and turned to his daughter. “Lizzy? Did I hear you speak?”
She nodded, her full head of curls bouncing together. “Uh-huh.”
His throat tightened, and tears of joy sprang to his eyes. He swept his daughter into his arms and hugged her to his chest.
“Papa.” James pulled on his pant leg. “Milla saved us from that mean dog.”
Malcolm glanced down at Camilla, who remained sitting on the floor, her smile relaxed and her eyes twinkling like emeralds.
“What is James talking about?” he asked her.
“While we were in town this afternoon, a dog broke away from his owner and charged us, giving the children a terrible fright. I couldn’t think of any way to keep him from attacking us, so I picked up a rock and hit him in the head.”
Another jolt of surprise pierced Malcolm’s body.
“And Papa,” James continued, “it was so wonderful, ’cause the doggie yelped and ran home with his tail ’tween his legs.” He laughed. “You should’ve saw’d him, Papa.”
“Milla scared him, Papa.” Lizzy laughed.
Malcolm’s heart melted the longer he gazed at his wife, and like the forbidden fruit, she tempted him to sample her kiss one more time. He moved by her side, knelt, and reached to caress her cheek. Her skin grew warm beneath his fingers.
“Is this true?” he asked. “Did you save my children?”
“I… I didn’t want the dog to harm them.”
Lizzy jumped out of his arms and ran to Camilla. His daughter threw her arms around Camilla’s neck. “Papa? Milla loves us.”
His legs weakened, and he sat on the floor beside his wife. He touched her cheek again, and she snuggled her face against his hand. “How can I thank you?”
She smiled. “You don’t need to thank me. I did what any good mother would do.”
His heart twisted in confused pain again. He wanted to take her in his arms and smother her with his appreciation, yet doubt stopped any form of action. It wasn’t like Kat to be kind toward another. A good mother? That didn’t fit the Kat he knew.
Her eyes glittered as if sprinkled with diamonds, and the gentle beckoning of her delicate lips pulled him closer. He pushed all negative thoughts, wanting to feel her mouth against his again. He didn’t even care that the children were present.
He leaned forward, and she sucked in her breath but didn’t pull away. His heart sang. Emotions he wanted kept hidden had surfaced, convincing him she’d finally changed into the woman he had always dreamed about.
She tilted toward him, and he pressed his lips to hers. Energy ignited inside him, and he longed for more. He moved to wrap his arms around her, but his laughing children jumped on them both, knocking them to the floor. Keeping the children in his arms, he pulled Camilla against him. Her wide smile and glowing eyes held tender emotion as she looked at him, and he realized he loved seeing her like this.
“Milla,” James said, “were you going to give Papa his gift now?”
“What?” Malcolm sat up.
Nodding, Camilla stood. “Yes, James, if you think your father is ready for it.”
“Papa,” Lizzy said, tugging on Malcolm’s waistcoat. “You ready?”
Malcolm laughed. “Of course.”
Camilla went to the bookshelf and lifted the wrapped package on top. She brought it to him, her eyes never leaving his.
She knelt beside him and smiled. “I have waited for the right moment to give this to you, and I suppose now is a perfect time.”
He took the package, not believing any of this. His daughter talking, his son laughing with his stepmother, and Kat… Kat wasn’t herself and hadn’t been for a while. In fact, the name Kat didn’t fit her. Camilla did.
“Open it, Papa,” James encouraged him.
Malcolm ripped at the package while his children giggled and helped him remove the wrapping. A long, dark brown steel case sat in his hands, and when he opened the lid, he couldn’t believe his eyes. He had been eyeing the jeweled dagger for a few weeks, wondering if he should purchase it.
He brought his gaze up to Camilla. How did she know? “I don’t understand,” he said. “Why are you giving this to me?”
She touched his hand tenderly. “Because I wanted to thank you for everything you have done lately. You are an extremely kind and forgiving man. You have made me very happy here,” she ended in a whisper.
His heart burst for the second time today. He dropped the cased dagger in his lap and pulled Camilla in his arms. She met his kiss halfway, and he didn’t hold back on showing her how he felt. A deep sigh escaped her throat as she clung to him. But before he could enjoy the moment, heavy footsteps sounded in the corridor and Broderick called Malcolm’s name.
He cursed and withdrew. His wife’s cheeks flamed an adorable pink. Couldn’t he kiss his own wife for longer than two minutes?
“Malcolm, wonderful news,” Broderick yelled. He entered the nursery then came to a dead stop.
“What is it?” Malcolm stood and joined his friend, keeping the cased dagger in his hand.
“Umm… well,” Broderick stammered as his gaze shifted from Malcolm to Camilla and the children. “I’m sorry to disrupt your, er… pleasant moment, but I have wonderful news.” He showed Malcolm the highly decorated card.
Malcolm snatched it away, reading over every word. “When did this arrive?”
“Just a few moments ago by messenger,” Broderick replied.
“But why?”
“What is it, Malcolm?” Camilla lifted herself off the floor and moved to his side.
“An invitation to Colonel Burwell’s weekend estate party. I have waited for two weeks for this.” He shook his head. “I just don’t understand why it arrived two days before the big event. One usually doesn’t send invitations out so late.”
His wife’s hand touched his arm, and he met her amazing eyes, still glistening with warmth. “Lady Burwell apologized and explained there must have been some kind of mix-up. She promised she would send the invitation over right away.”
Doubt crept into his mind, and happiness drained from him slowly like a leaky bucket. “When did you talk to Lady Burwell?”
“This afternoon. It was Colonial Burwell’s dog that attacked us, and she came to see if we were all right. We talked, and I mentioned—”
“You told her I had not been invited?” He raised his voice. “Do you know how that makes me appear?”
She frowned. “No, Malcolm, it wasn’t like that at all. In fact, she assumed you were invited. When I explained you were not, she apologized and promised to send over an invitation.”
“What exactly did you tell her?” He folded his arms across his chest.
“I told her we would love to come.”
“We?”
“Yes, of course.” Her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose in challenge. “She wanted both of us to come.”
He cursed under his breath for his bad fortune and glanced at Broderick. Apparently, the past few moments of splendor had been a dream, and now reality reminded him he could not trust his wife. Kat only did nice things for her selfish purposes.
“Lady Burwell,” Kat continued in a shaky tone, “led me to believe this weekend gathering was for husbands and wives.”
Malcolm growled, bunching his hands into fists. “It is.”
“Then why should I feel discouraged in going? Do you not want me there?” Pain diminished the sweetness highlighting her eyes.
His chest constricted, and he attempted to crush the guilt that filled him. “Of course I want you there. Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped.
“Then why—”
“Camilla,” he cut her off, “please ask your maid to pack your trunks sufficiently. I shall have my servant load my belongings posthaste.” He turned and walked with Broderick out the door, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be late for supper tonight, so don’t wait.”
Malcolm strode down the stairs, anger burning within him like a raging storm. Why did his deceiving little wife want to come along? What was she up to? Had the missing puzzle piece to her new behavior just fallen into place? Did she want to come to the party in order to spy on him?
*
“Here we are.”
Ignoring Malcolm’s grumble as he stared out the carriage window, Camilla sat forward in her seat and admired the enormous estate. Full trees, the land, and green, rolling hills made it a splendid sight.
The Burwells’ three-story manor had at least three wings added to the structure circling around the backyard. She caught a glimpse of the rose garden that seemed to last forever. At the edge of the yard, a cluster of trees led into a small forest.
“Amazing,” she gasped.
“Yes, quite a sight, is it not?”
“Unbelievable.”
“And can you believe I drew up the plans?”
She swung her head around so hard it unbalanced her bonnet. She stared at him as she adjusted it back on her head. “You did?”
“The people who first bought the estate moved away two years ago when the taxes became so high, they couldn’t afford to live here.” He smoothed his waistcoat into place. “Not too long afterward, the colonel and his wife moved in.” He shook his head. “Now it makes me wonder if the Burwells pushed the people away on purpose.”
His tone of voice became guarded when he spoke of the taxes. Then again, in these hard times, everyone was upset about the high taxes.
“I think you are extremely talented.” She smiled. “This is a lovely manor.”
“Thank you.” His acknowledgment held no emotion.
The coach pulled to a stop, but before the footman came to open the door, Malcolm touched her arm. “Please remember your act. Continue to play the sweet, innocent woman you have been trying to fool me into believing you are.”
His words cut through her like a sharp knife—quick and painful. She wished she could make him think differently. “I assure you, I shall be on my best behavior.” She leaned toward him and placed her hand on his knee. His muscles tightened beneath her fingers. “If you like,” she continued, “I will show these people I have changed and the only man in my life is my husband.”
His expression remained solemn, and her heart sank further. Not even a twitch touched his lips. What had happened to the man who had been so loving and sweet with her the other day in the nursery while she played with the children? Once she had explained to him how she was able to obtain the invitation to the party, he’d clammed up and turned back into the monster she met that first day.
He nodded, still wearing a blank expression. “If you think you can convince these guests that you have changed, I’m all for that.”
She gritted her teeth and bunched her hands into fists. Sometimes—like now—she wanted to slap some sense into him.
Malcolm stepped out of the coach first before lifting her down. His grip wasn’t gentle, and when her feet touched the ground, he withdrew his hands and moved away as if touching her offended him.
She took a deep breath, trying to gain more courage. She would show him what kind of woman she really was. Hopefully, he would come to have tender feelings for her. Eventually the truth would come out about their marriage, and she didn’t want him loathing her when that happened.
Hooking her arm around his elbow, she let him escort her into the manor, where servants waited to take their hats and cloaks. Colonel Burwell and his wife stepped away from their other guests to greet them. Once again, Lady Burwell, dressed to perfection, wore clothing that appeared very expensive, befitting a queen.
“I’m so happy you could make it,” Lady Burwell greeted them. “I must apologize again for my husband’s memory.” She elbowed him gently. “He really thought he had given Mr. Kennedy an invitation for you.”
Malcolm shook his head. “It is I who should apologize for any inconvenience my wife and I have put you through.”
Lady Burwell laughed. “Nonsense.”
Malcolm took Lady Burwell’s hand and placed a proper kiss on her knuckles. “Lady Burwell, may I say you look very fetching, making the sunshine envious of you for taking away its brightness.”
The woman giggled like a girl, and Camilla held back a laugh. Malcolm certainly knew how to captivate a lady.
“Oh, you are a charmer, Mr. Worthington,” the older woman cooed.
Camilla had to agree. That man was irresistibly charming.
Malcolm turned to the colonel and bowed slightly. “Thank you, for the generous invitation. I commend you for the remarkable additions you have made to this property since the last occupants owned it.”
George Burwell chuckled. “Yes, it was a mere shack until we made the proper accommodations. But I heard you were the one who designed the manor. Is that correct?”
“Indeed, sir.”
Lady Burwell gasped. “Are you jesting?”
Malcolm shook his head. “I would not jest about matters so important, my lady.”
“Well, then I shall have to hire you to build me more.”
“You wish to add on another wing, perhaps?”
“Oh, no.” She laughed. “This manor suits my needs for the moment, but I wish to have a different stable. The one we have is too small.”
“I shall be more than happy to draw up the plans for you.”
Camilla kept silent as her husband conversed with the couple. There was an underlying tone to his answers, almost as if he lied through his teeth. Outwardly, his expression held a pleasant look, but she could read him well. His behavior wasn’t quite right, and the nerve on his cheek twitched. This had happened before when he tried to hold his anger.
When more guests arrived, the Burwells excused themselves. Malcolm hooked her hand around his elbow again and walked away. She tried not to ponder the doubts creeping into her mind and instead concentrated on the furnishings.
“I think this manor is immaculately decorated,” she said.
“Take a good look, my dear,” Malcolm whispered, and leaned closer. “This is funded by the hardworking people of Dorchester. Their taxes pay for Lady Burwell’s furnishings.”
She gasped, turning her head to meet his narrowed gaze. “You cannot be serious.”
“Can’t I?” His eyebrow rose. “Where do you think the money goes, but to the soldiers and their families? Have you not noticed that all the higher-ranking soldiers live almost as wealthily as the royals?”
Different doubts filled her now. The more she thought about this, the more she realized Malcolm was correct.
“These are difficult times, thanks to Napoleon trying to take over Britain,” he told her. “However, I don’t believe the prince regent is handling things correctly.”
She nodded. “You are probably right.”
“I know I am,” he answered with sadness in his voice.
A servant joined them, interrupting her errant thoughts on the political matter.
“Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Worthington,” the younger woman began. “Lady Burwell has asked me to show you to your room. I’m certain you’ll want to freshen up before the garden luncheon.”
Camilla smiled. “Oh, yes. That would be wonderful, thank you.”
She and Malcolm followed the maid up the grand staircase. When they stepped into the room, Camilla inhaled sharply. Hers and Malcolm’s trunks sat side by side. Her heart jumped to her throat with the mere thought of their sharing a bed.
“Excuse me,” Malcolm said. “Why are my trunks in my wife’s room?”
The maid’s cheeks bloomed with color, and she glanced down at the floor. “Lady Burwell hadn’t enough rooms when you responded to her invitation, and she offers her apologies for you having to share one.” She peeked up from beneath lowered lashes at Malcolm. “And she hopes you will understand and not be too inconvenienced.”
Camilla’s uneven heartbeat accelerated, but she must calm the maid’s fears, although she was having a hard time with her own. Displaying her practiced smile, she nodded. “No reason to fret. This is acceptable. Tell Lady Burwell we are most happy with our accommodations.”
The young girl bobbed once and then left the room, closing the door behind her.
The room seemed larger than the one she occupied at Malcolm’s home. Her gaze flew to the large bed decorated in a blue and yellow patchwork with matching pillows, and her throat turned dry.
“Things can’t get worse, can they?” Malcolm grumbled behind her.
His rotten attitude gnawed on her nerves, and she whipped around, planting her hands on her hips. “You wanted to come here, so what are you harping about? Although we have to share a bed, you will not even notice me in it. The bed is big enough that we can each have a side to ourselves and not worry about bumping into each other during the night.”
After a few awkward moments in silence, his mouth twitched into a grin. “My, aren’t we edgy this morning?”
“I’m having a hard time understanding you, Malcolm.” She rolled her eyes. “Are you never satisfied?”
He folded his arms across his wide chest and lost his smirk. “Lately, I haven’t been satisfied at all. Have you forgotten the reasons you gave for not wanting me as a husband—in all senses of the word—right after we married?” He walked over and stood mere inches in front of her. Fire shot out of his eyes.
She swallowed the lump of fear quickly rising to her throat. “I must have forgotten.”
“Let me remind you, then,” he continued. “According to your standards, I wasn’t a fitting bed partner because I couldn’t understand your disloyalty. You accused me of complaining about everything, and you didn’t like the way I lived my life.”
She gulped at the crudeness of her sister’s words. The apology gathered on the tip of her tongue, but she dared not voice it. She needed to let him speak to understand his feelings. “I’m certain I spoke without thinking,” she whispered.
He grasped her wrist. “You knew exactly what you were saying, my dear. You didn’t like the way I touched you, the way I kissed you, and especially the way I treated you.”
Defiantly, she took hold of her fear and straightened her shoulders. “Well, if you were as gentle then as you are now, it’s no wonder I didn’t like the way you touched me.” Anger quickly replaced her fear. She nodded toward his fingers around her wrist. “Most women like a strong man with a gentle, loving hand. Not a forceful beast that will take whatever he wants, whenever he wants. That is barbaric.” A memory flashed through her head of the way her own husband treated her right after they married, and her stomach rolled.
He released her as if he had been burned and stepped away. “How odd you would say that, because you informed me immediately that you enjoyed a rough man in bed.” His brows drew together, and anger lines remained around his mouth. “When you finally realize what you want, please let me know. I’m not going to take any action, mind you, but I would like to keep it straight in my head what you want and don’t want, so I can warn your next conquest.” He turned away and marched out the door, slamming it hard behind him.
Her heart shattered, and she wished he didn’t affect her so. The main purpose of being here was to keep him alive, and to make him come to accept his new wife. She had to make him see she was not the same woman he’d stood beside on their wedding day.
Anger rose within her, and she stamped her foot. Looking heavenward, she growled. “A fine mess you made of my life, isn’t it, sister dear?”
Why had Kat married Malcolm using her twin’s name? Nothing made sense.
Camilla’s chest ached, and she knew everything about Malcolm’s marriage had been a lie brought on by her own twin sister. But now Camilla must make things right. She was falling in love with Malcolm, and she was unable to stop it.