Kimberly Nee - The McKenzie Brothers (5 page)

He chuckled as the heat in her face burned brighter. “Very well. I’ve embarrassed you enough for one afternoon, I suppose.”

Yes, he most definitely had. She cleared her throat. “May I go,?”

“By all means. Far be it from me to keep you from your duties, Katherine.”

“Does that mean I am to return to the kitchen?”

“For today, yes. Mrs. Riley will be hiring a cook in the next few days. For now, help her out as best you can.”

She fought back a heavy sigh. “Yes, sir.”

She was halfway out of her chair when he said, “Ah, and Katherine?”

Pausing in the doorway, she turned. “Yes?”

“I will need water drawn and heated for a bath. Please make certain to leave enough room on the fire.”

A sharp bob of her head. “Yes, sir.”

“That will be all.”

Katherine’s cheeks felt like they were on fire. A bath? Dear Lord, did the man think she was going to
wash
him now?

The heat in her cheeks rapidly swept through her entire body at the thought of Garrett in a bath, that large, muscled body nude, beaded with water, steam wafting up causing his raven hair to curl along his temples and at his nape —

“Stop it!” she muttered sharply to herself as she hurried back to the kitchen. “Even he would not be so bold.”

But, as she returned to her chair and her paring knife, Katherine had no doubt in her mind that he would, in fact, be so bold.

She would almost count on it.

Chapter Six

Katherine spent the remainder of the afternoon in her chair, carefully working the blade of the paring knife around each peach. By the time she was finished, a good number of peaches were misshapen from her tight grasp, but all in all, she didn’t think she’d done too badly with them. Of course, she didn’t have a finger that hadn’t been nicked or cut in some manner, but at least she was finished.

Mrs. Riley frowned at the bowl of peeled peaches. “You didn’t pit them. Not that there is all that much left to pit.”

Katherine scowled, drawing the back of her hand across her forehead, fighting the urge to sigh. “I’ll do that now.” She turned to the fruit, hating it more by the moment and vowing to never so much as sniff a peach again.

Peach by peach, she drew her knife through the fruit until she’d finally finished. “Is this acceptable?”

“That’ll do. Now, run along and lay out the items Mister Garrett will need for his bath.”

“Am I to bathe him, as well?” Katherine blurted out thoughtlessly.

Mrs. Riley looked as if she were about to take her to task once more for her cheek, but she merely pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Of course not. He is more than capable of washing himself. You need only set out soap and toweling. Sidwell will see to his clothing. When you are finished, you will have enough time to freshen up and serve supper.”

The thought of having to lift even the lightest of bowls was enough to bring a groan to her lips. Her arms ached from being held in the same position as she peeled those blasted peaches and her hands were sore from numerous cuts. The only thing she wished to do now was to drag herself off to her little room and crawl beneath the bedclothes.

“Very well,” she replied, easing out of her chair. “Where will I find soap and toweling?”

“In the cupboard in the water closet,” Mrs. Riley responded without looking up from the dough she was rolling out. “Go on. Get.”

“
Go on. Get
,” Katherine parroted under her breath as she left the kitchen to make her way to the front of the house. All was quiet now. She didn’t know where either of the men was, but she knew they’d both left the house.

She mounted the steps with leaden feet, unable to remember the last time she’d felt so tired. Miller might not have been the easiest man in the world to get along with at times, but at least her duties were shared by seven other barmaids and her days didn’t begin until late afternoon. She wished she could go back there.

Almost.

Of course, even if Garrett fired her, there was no way she could ever set foot back at the Bayside. Not after seeing Sanders there not once, but twice. Going back there was impossible. It would make it far too easy for him to finish what he had begun —

“No!” she whispered to herself as she made her way down the hallway towards the water closet. “He cannot touch you here. It’s impossible. And besides, he would never know where to even begin looking for you. At least you were smart enough not to tell Miller where you were going.”

She shoved the unpleasant thoughts from her mind as she jerked open the cupboard to find stacks of freshly laundered linen towels folded and waiting for use. She took down a large towel, and a small, square one as well. The soap on the lower shelf brought a smile to her lips. Pears soap. She recognized the gentle floral scent from when she was a girl. She scooped up a small bar, plunked it atop the stack of towels and slammed the cupboard door shut.

Garrett’s chambers were located at the far end of the hallway, towards the front of the house. She hadn’t had the opportunity to venture within. Her belly fluttered as she crossed the threshold and stepped into his private chamber.

The room was lovely and one of the few that was completely furnished. The walls were covered with rich, pale blue silk, the wood a satiny polished oak. Beneath her sturdy house shoes, the oak floor gleamed beneath a coat of wax.

It was simply furnished and the large bed dominated the room, the feather tick covered with fresh linens, plump pillows, a royal blue quilt and hangings, now tied back with thick gold braid. Without thinking, she crossed over to lay a hand atop the quilt. A sigh rose in her throat as her fingers brushed the soft fabric.

How many female visitors had passed through this room? She hadn’t been given any specific instructions as to Garrett’s morning routine, hadn’t been told if there were any circumstances under which she mustn’t enter his room. Of course, it was mostly Sidwell’s domain, but it would still need to be tidied on a daily basis.

The thought of Garrett locked away in here with a lady caused a heaviness to settle over her. She tried not to think about it, something not at all easy as she gazed down at that comfortable looking bed.

Sunlight poured in through the two windows at the front of the room as she crossed over to where a hammered brass tub had been placed. Apparently Garrett preferred bathing in the privacy of his bedroom, as opposed to the water closet down the hall, which also held its own tub.

A small, low three-legged stool had been placed beside the tub. Assuming this was for the items she carried, she placed the towels and soap atop it, and then turned to take her leave.

Sidwell trod down the hallway as she stepped out into it. He was tall, thin, utterly imposing, and more proper than the most proper English butler she’d ever come into contact with. He rarely spoke and it seemed like his blue-green eyes missed nothing. It gave her the impression that he could actually see through the walls and read minds.

Even now, he was stiffly formal, bowing at the waist. “Miss Katherine.”

She had to smile. It had been a while since anyone had addressed her as
Miss
.

Well, aside from Garrett, that is.

“Good day, Sidwell. I’ve set out the items Mr. McKenzie will need for his bath.”

“I thank you, Miss Katherine. Now, if you will excuse me, I must oversee Philip and Matthew as they bring in the water.”

She nodded. The two boys were on loan from the neighboring estate, Stonebridge. Garrett must get on famously with his neighbors, for he seemed to spend quite a bit of time up there. She knew nothing about them, not even their names, and had only gotten the briefest of glimpses of the house. It was enough of a glimpse to make her think of the estates in the English countryside with its sprawling main house of weathered stone.

Without another word, Sidwell turned to go back below. Katherine went in the opposite direction toward the narrow flight of stairs to the third floor.

In her room, she filled her chipped china washbasin with tepid water from the ewer. She splashed some on her face. It wasn’t much, but it helped stave off a bit of her growing sleepiness and at least left her feeling cleaner.

She cast a glance over one shoulder at her bed. Supper wasn’t for another hour. Certainly she would not be missed should she take a nap, would she?

Temptation was too hard to ignore, so she crossed over and stretched out, sighing as the thin pillow cradled her head. It felt so good to lie down, to close her eyes.

“A few moments,” she murmured, feeling her eyelids grow heavy. “A few moments and then I’ll go back below.”

Chapter Seven

She’d barely closed her eyes before Mrs. Riley was banging on the door to wake her. Katherine fought her way back from the swirling muck of troubled sleep, forcing her eyes open and clearing her throat. “I’ll be right there.”

“Hurry up, Katherine!” Mrs. Riley shouted impatiently. “You’ve already overslept by nearly an hour.”

An hour? Katherine stifled a groan as she kicked off the quilt, which was tangled about her legs, and jumped up from the bed. Her foot caught in the hem of her chemise. She stumbled, trying and failing to regain her footing three times before crashing to the floor
.
Pain burst through her ankle like fireworks, and she bit down on her bottom lip to staunch her cry. “Katherine? Are you all right in there?” Mrs. Riley called, sounding more impatient than concerned.

Katherine glared at the door even as her eyes stung with tears. “I’m fine, Mrs. Riley. I am getting dressed and seem to be all thumbs this morning.”

“Well, hurry up. As I said, you’re already an hour behind.”

Katherine picked herself up from the floor, pressing her hand against her side, and hobbled to the simple wardrobe. The slightest movement sent arrows of pain slicing through her. Both her side and left ankle throbbed mercilessly as she dressed in the heavy black dress and apron. It had not abated by the time she emerged in the kitchen. If anything, it was worse, and moving about made it almost unbearable.

“Are you all right, Katherine?” Mrs. Riley moved to the stove in the far corner where bacon sizzled in a cast iron skillet.

“I am fine. What do you need me to do?”

Mrs. Riley glared at her. “You don’t look fine, Katherine. You look gray this morning.”

She waved away the housekeeper’s worries. “I did not sleep well last night, I am afraid. That’s all. Now, do you need me to help prepare breakfast?”

“No. Madam McKenzie sent down a basketful of eggs this morning. Breakfast is almost ready.” Mrs. Riley gave her a scalding glare. “Besides, Mister Garrett told me you are to be kept out of the kitchen. Apparently he feels you are as much of a danger in here as I do. No, you will start up on the third floor today. Gather the linens from Mister Garrett’s chambers and all the laundry and bring them down. I will show you where we wash everything and where it is hung to dry. By then, breakfast should be ready.”

Katherine didn’t know who Madam McKenzie was; obviously some relative of Garrett’s. Then again, she didn’t much care at the moment. Instead, she wanted to cry at the thought of having to carry heavy baskets piled high with laundry. Her side hurt furiously, making even lifting her right arm difficult, and every step took the greatest effort to keep from limping. She was not in the frame of mind to argue with Mrs. Riley, or even voice her concerns. She wanted to finish her chores and find a way to get into Brunswick. She needed to know if anyone had been asking about her as soon as possible.

Mrs. Riley dismissed her, her attention back on the bacon. Katherine paused in the doorway long enough to ask, “Is Mr. McKenzie awake?”

“Of course. You’ll not be seeing much of him today. He left shortly after sunrise to go to the docks. I expect he’ll be there until supper.”

“The docks? Why on earth would he be there?”

“Because his family owns Eagleton Imports and he is in the process of assuming control of it now that Mister James has decided to cut back his time.”

“Mister James?” Katherine knew she sounded like a brainless twit, parroting back everything Mrs. Riley said, but she had no idea who the housekeeper was talking about.

Mrs. Riley sighed. “Mister Garrett’s father, James. He and Miss Rebecca live over at Stonebridge. Mister Garrett did as well until just recently.”

“And where is this Stonebridge?”

“Down the road a bit, closer to town. The woods on the eastern border separate the two estates. You’ll see for yourself soon enough. I’m certain we will be pulled into service up there eventually as well. When Miss Rebecca hosts a ball, she needs as many bodies as she can find.”

That cleared up the mystery of Madam McKenzie’s identity. “Does she host many?”

“No. Not at all. But when she does, people throughout the whole of Brunswick anxiously await their invitation. Quite coveted, an invitation to Stonebridge. Now, enough chitchat. It’s time to get to work for both of us. Run along.”

Mrs. Riley lifted a long-handled fork and prodded the bacon. Katherine turned on her heel and, managing not to limp, went up to strip the beds.

It wasn’t too difficult a chore. Her first trip was only linens. The basket hardly weighed anything as she brought it into Garrett’s bedchambers. She paused, gazing down at the unmade bed where Garrett slept. The bed was rumpled on only one side. She smiled. If she slept in a bed this large, she wouldn’t contain herself to one side.

She grasped the top sheet, and tugged. Smooth linen whisked from the tick. These sheets were newly-woven, as they had yet to be worn to the cozy softness that came with many launderings. Everything was crisp, from that sheet to the cases for the pillows, and as she rolled them up to drop in the basket, she had the wildest urge to bury her nose in them and breathe deep. The few occasions she’d been close to Garrett, she couldn’t help but notice the sinfully delightful way he smelled. And sheets were so…intimate.

Footfalls sounded just beyond the door, growing louder. Sidwell, most likely.

She dumped the now-crushed linen balls into her basket and lifted.

A mistake. She couldn’t muffle her groan or the accompanying sharp hiss as she dropped the basket. Grabbing her side, she sank onto the feather tick, struggling to breathe and trying
not
to breathe at the same time.

“Are you all right?” Sidwell poked his head through the doorway, his forehead creased with concern.

She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard to keep the wobble from her voice as she whispered, “I’m fine, Sidwell.”

“Allow me to help you with that.” He stepped into the room and crouched before the basket, gathering the sheets that had spilled from it.

“No, really. I can manage. Truly, I’m fine.” Katherine forced herself up from the tick, ignoring the throbbing in her side.

“Are you certain?”

“Quite. I thank you, but I can manage from here.” She reached for the rough woven handles, gritted her teeth, and tried lifting again, more gingerly this time.

Sidwell hardly looked convinced, but stepped back just the same. “Very well. If you insist.”

“Thank you. Now, if you will excuse me.” She didn’t wait for his reply, but hurried to swoop past him, before he could see the tears in her eyes.

Garrett scanned the inventory sheet Julian had left for his signature. It was the third time he’d read the list, but the information had yet to penetrate his brain. Try as he might, he couldn’t concentrate. Every time he looked down at the sheet, he saw a willowy woman with dark red hair pulled into a prim braid and gold-flecked hazel eyes. It was nearly enough to drive him mad.

It aggravated him enough that he was almost glad when a familiar voice called out, “Anyone home?” Bradley Jefferson’s smug face came poking around the corner.

“I’m here,” he replied with a sigh, setting down the sheet and leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t even hear you coming up the stairs.”

“I walk softly. Part of my success when it comes to sneaking in around the missus.” Bradley swiped his hat from his head, tossing it onto the top of the coat tree beside the door. “Keeping busy?”

“Haven’t you anything better to do, Jefferson?” Garrett asked. Bradley tugged out the chair across from him and dropped down into it.

“Of course I do, but I wanted an update on the great seduction. Surely you haven’t forgotten.” Bradley’s gray eyes were gleaming with triumph. “By the by, I’ve haven’t seen our little redhead around the Bayside lately. You wouldn’t, by any chance, happen to know where she’s got to, would you?”

Anger uncurled in the pit of Garrett’s stomach as he recalled Bradley’s offer of a friendly wager, which came the same evening Garrett offered Katherine the maid’s position. A wager to see who could woo the lady into bed first. He found it as distasteful now as he did then and didn’t trouble to keep the disgust from his voice. “As I told you before, Jefferson, I’m not about to wager on a woman. I’m not so crass.”

“Afraid of a bit of competition?”

Garrett shook his head. Why let Jefferson know Katherine’s whereabouts? “Either way, I’ve not noticed her absence.”

“Why do I have the feeling you are not as surprised as you’d like me to believe?” Bradley reached into his waistcoat pocket and came up with a cigar. “Surely you’ve been there in your attempts to win our little wager?”

Garrett studied him long and hard. It bothered him, the way Bradley thought nothing of keeping mistresses and lovers squirreled away all over Brunswick. He didn’t know
why
he should be bothered. After all, he wasn’t the one breaking marriage vows. But it did bother him.

He sighed softly. “I told you, there is no wager.”

Jefferson sighed. “Of course not.”

“Jefferson — ”

“Oh, come now. Surely you are as curious as I am.”

“Curious over what?”

Jefferson offered up a sly look. “Whether or not she’s a virgin.”

Garrett glared at him. “I suppose you will simply have to take
my
word for it, then. Won’t you?”

“I’m sure I will. Of course, by then, I’ll have no way of knowing the truth, will I?”

“I suppose you’ll have to take the word of an old friend.”

Bradley gave him a long look. “That I will.” He took a deep breath and got to his feet. “Well, I’m going to head over to Harry’s, maybe see if I can scare up a game of whist. How about it, McKenzie? Feeling a bit lucky this eve?”

Garrett was about to say no. Lately, he had no desire to go out carousing. Not when he could be home, working on the parlor. The house was very near to completion now, and he was anxious to finish.

Stop lying to yourself, McKenzie,
he thought as he considered Bradley’s offer.
You know the true reason, and it has nothing to do with that blasted parlor.

He ignored that nagging little voice as he stood. “A game of whist sounds like a peaceful way to end a lousy day. And you are buying the first round, am I right?”

“Of course. But you’re buying the rest.” Bradley’s boisterous laughter echoed about the small office as he reached for his hat and disappeared down the steps to the street.