Seducing the Ruthless Rogue (33 page)

“You have ten minutes to decide.”

“Ten minutes!
 
When is the wedding to take place?”

“As soon as you can get dressed.
 
It is amazing what can happen when Prinny is involved.”

“I need to be alone, please.”

Mikala stood and crossed to the door.
 
“Don’t even think about escaping through that window.
 
If you are not going to see this through, at least have the integrity to stay and say so.
 
Also, I wouldn’t mention the word bastard around your betrothed again.
 
He is a bit sensitive when he hears it in reference to him.”
 

“Why is that?
 
He kept calling himself ‘The Scottish Bastard’ as if it should mean something to me, but I have no idea.”

“It is his story to tell, not mine.”
 
Mikala slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.
 
When she entered the hall, four sets of eyes of various colors looked back at her.
 
Some were anxious, one was wary, and one was stormy.
 

“Well?” her father asked anxiously.

“I’ve guilted her enough that she’ll follow through with the wedding.
 
Send for the minister.
 
I’ve given her ten minutes to think it over.”

“What if she escapes?” Mack asked, almost hoping she would.

“She’s too proud.
 
No, brother dear, within the hour, you will be a married man.
 
Well and truly caught in the parson’s trap.”

“Wonderful.
 
I’ll return shortly.”

***

Cassie paced the confines of the study.
 
This was her favorite room in this little house.
 
The room where she wrote her articles and spun her tales of tragic heroes and the heroines that love them.
 
Now she found herself living out the life of one of her heroines.
 
The dress that Mikala had brought was beautiful and fit her perfectly.
 
It was a beautiful silvery blue and the material might have been silk.
 
She did not want to think on it too much.
 
The color almost looked like Mack’s eyes and made hers appear an even deeper blue than normal.
 
Mikala had helped her arrange her hair in a beautiful updo, leaving her neck and collarbone exposed.
 
She wore a pair of gloves to hide the ink stains on her fingers and hands.

The small study was full of bodies and was heating up.
 
Cassie took a piece of paper off the desk and began fanning herself.
 
Her father, Chang, Mikala, and Hawkescliffe were all present.
 
The only person missing was the bridegroom and the minister.
 
But who needed a minister if there was no groom?
 
It was an hour and a half since Mikala had left her bedroom to allow her to think about her decision.
 
There had not been much to think over, not when Mikala had explained what could be ripped away from the two men.
 
As much as she did not like Director McKenzie, she did not want to see him taken away from a position at which he excelled.
 

When Mikala had threatened her not to slip out the window, she had been horrified at the thought that the other woman really thought she might do it.
 
Truthfully, she had considered it, but only for a few seconds.
 
She was made of sterner stuff than to run from a problem.
 
Now she paced the small study and tried not to meet the pitying look that her father and Chang sent her.
 
She also avoided the rage that glinted in Hawkescliffe’s eyes and the compassion and anger she saw in Mikala’s.
 

“Perhaps someone should have had a discussion with my betrothed,” Cassie spat.

“About what?” the man in question asked from the door of the study.

“Do you realize how long we have waited for you to make an appearance?
 
Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is for the bridegroom to be over a half hour late to his own wedding?
 
Did it ever occur to you that I would have to endure looks of pity because my bridegroom did not even want to show up to his own wedding?
 
Are you going to answer me, or just stand there looking daft like the village idiot?”

“Are you finished practicing to be a fishwife?”

She glared at him, fisted her hands on her waist, and cocked one eyebrow in anticipation of his answering her questions.

“First of all, it took some time to find a minister available and willing to oversee a marriage by special license.”
 
Mack stood aside and allowed the mousy looking minister to enter the study.
 
“Reverend Thomas, this beautiful creature is my future wife, Cassie Graham.”

Cassie nodded at the man.
 
“And what was the other reason?”

“I think I’ll make you wait for that one,” Mack said, his brogue thick and rich.
 

Cassie walked over to the window as the others were introduced to Reverend Thomas.
 
Perspiration began to bead on her skin.
 
This was really happening.
 
She would soon be tied to Stuart McKenzie for the rest of their natural lives, if they did not kill one another first.
 
She fanned herself faster, but she could not cool herself at all.
 
Cassie fumbled with the locks on the window, but could not make her hands work.
 
What was wrong with her?

“Allow me,” a familiar voice said behind her.
 
Mack’s voice did something to her that she did not want to think about in great detail.
 
He reached around her, undid the locks, and pushed up the window.
 
“How’s that?” he asked, his breath caressing her ear.

“Better,” she whispered, as the breeze cooled her skin.

“Cassie, we do not have to go through with this if you don’t want to.”

“Yes, we do.
 
Mikala made it very clear what it could mean to your’s and Papa’s careers if we do not.
 
I will not be the cause of England losing these wars we find ourselves in.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Mack, you are wanted over there with the gentlemen,” Mikala rushed over.
 
“Please send Sir Graham over here.
 
I believe he and his daughter need a moment before the wedding.”
 
Mikala patted him on his back and gave him a little shove towards the group of men standing by the desk.
 
“How are you feeling?”

Suddenly Cassie was petrified.
 
“I can’t do this.
 
You have to help me, Mikala.
 
You’ve been through this yourself.
 
Please.”

“Stop this.
 
Take a deep breath,” she instructed.
 
“Now release it.
 
Good.
 
Another.
 
Good.
 
Cassie, you are a strong, courageous woman.
 
You’re going to be fine.”

Cassie had herself under control once more.
 
“I’m ready,” she said just as her father reached her.

“Cassie, you look beautiful.
 
I wish very much your mother were here to see you.”

“Me, too.”

“I need to tell you something.”

“Papa, not now, please.
 
I don’t know how long I can hold myself together.
 
I feel as if I am going to shatter into pieces at any moment.”

“Not my beautiful Cassiopeia.”

“Yes, that one.
 
I just want this over with.”

“That is not how you should feel about your wedding,” he admonished her.

“No lectures, Papa.
 
You’ve got what you wanted.
 
I am ready to see this done.”

Sir Graham hooked Cassie’s hand on his arm and led her to the desk, where Reverend Thomas and Ma…Director McKenzie waited for her.
 
Remember, think of him as
Director
McKenzie
.
 
It will help you deal with this situation.
 
Director
McKenzie
.
 
Director
McKenzie
.
 
You can do this
, she told herself.
 
Gabriel and Mikala stood to one side to serve as witnesses.
 
Chang stood on the other and was joined by Sir Graham after he left Cassie in front of the minister.

Cassie’s world changed forever in less than five minutes.
 
The ceremony had been swift, and all the paperwork finalized.
 
Both she and Mack were receiving congratulations.
 
She held her left glove in her right hand, because at one point, Mack had forced her to remove it during the ceremony.
 
He had placed a beautiful sapphire ring with two small diamonds on either side of the blue stone on her ring finger.

“This is reason number two,” he said with a wink, after he placed the ring on her finger.
 

She watched, enraptured as he brought it up to his mouth and brushed a kiss over the ring and her fingers.
 
Her breathing increased, and her lips felt dry.
 
His eyes met hers just in time to see her tongue dart out and lick her lips.
 
Her mouth fell open in astonishment when he mouthed the word
later
to her.
 
Had he really just done that in front of everyone, including a minister?! Her husband was not only brash, but daring as well.

Her husband
, she thought.
 
She was well and truly married.
 
Despite everything she had said and all her misgivings, she found that there was a part of her that was looking forward to certain aspects of married life, especially with Mack.
 
This time she did not chastise herself or try to correct herself for slipping into using his nickname.
 
If she was going to be married to him, she might as well find out why it was so many people of the
ton
had affairs, and why so many of the poor had so many children.
 
There must be something about copulating that enticed people to do it over and over, and her husband was just the specimen to experiment on.

***

They waved goodbye to everyone and entered the hack that would take them to Mack’s house.
 
The trip was awkward and silent.
 
When they arrived, Cassie waited patiently while Mack retrieved her bags, paid the driver, and opened the door for her.
 
A man met them in the tiny hallway.

“John Bartlett, this is my wife, Cassie.
 
Cassie, John is my man of all things.”

“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. McKenzie.”

“Mr. Bartlett.”
 

Mack was coming back down the stairs, bagless.
 
“Bartlett, might I speak to you?
 
Cassie, make yourself at home.”
 
She disappeared into the study.
 
“Bartlett, make yourself scarce for a few days.”

“I had planned to, sir.
 
Should you need me, I’ll be at the Stevens.
 
There’s food for you and the missus as well.”

“Have them bill me for your charges.
 
And thank you, John.”
 
Mack locked the door after the man left.
 
He took a deep breath and entered the study to find Cassie stealthily searching the contents.
 
“What are you looking for, Cassie darlin’?
 
You’re fairly familiar with this room, as I recall, so I don’t believe you are studying the reading material that I have.”

“Don’t call me that,” she snarled as she spun around.

“Could it be you were looking for those treasured maps that led to Presley’s death?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“You’ll never find them on the shelves, and everything you do now
is
my business, darlin’.”

“I don’t care where they are.
 
I’m exhausted.
 
I believe I’ll retire.”

“It’s not very far past noon.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“Plotting my death?”

“Perhaps.”

“Before you hie yourself off to bed, there are some things I want to talk to you about.”

“Can’t it wait?
 
I have a pounding headache.”

“Of course you do.
 
No, it cannot wait.
 
Have a seat.”
 
He waited until she was sitting to begin his speech.
 
“Since you are now my wife, and I am responsible for your safety, there will be no more attending protests and writing those articles in
The Times
.”

“Pardon me?
 
I don’t believe I heard you correctly.
 
Did you just
order
me not to do something?”