Her Scoundrel Read online

  Obviously, the girls weren’t the little angels that Jake would have liked the bridal prospects to believe.

  “I’m so very sorry, Miss Walker,” Miranda said. “I forgot all about that old mud hole.”

  “You are a wicked, evil girl.” The bride swept past Kat without deigning to speak, her nose lifted high into the air. The girl, pretty and pristine in a pinafore trimmed in yellow, skipped along right behind the furious baron’s daughter and flashed Kat a brilliant smile as she went by.

  “Scamp,” Kat murmured.

  Not half a minute had passed before she spied yet another angry bride. The shop girl, Miss George, bustled toward Kat, her stylish gown soaked and dripping. “Hoodlums!” she exclaimed as she approached Kat, her skirt hiked almost to her knees. “I don’t care how much money the man has, it’s not enough to put up with the likes of those little troublemakers.”

  “What happened?”

  “What happened? I’ll tell you what happened. She pushed me! She’ll say it was an accident, but I know she pushed me.”

  Kat bit back a smile. Under other circumstances, she thought she could take a real liking to the Barrett sisters. Jake Kimball deserved a set of Menaces of his own.

  But these weren’t other circumstances. These were these circumstances. And these circumstances required that Kat gather up her sister and skedaddle, the sooner the better. She didn’t know for certain that he had her necklace—despite his slip of the tongue moments before. She could have misheard the girls at the zoo. She’d been a fool to involve herself with that altar cross again. She’d been right about it years ago—that cross was bad luck!

  Kat continued along the path toward the fish pond, grateful she’d studied the layout of the park from her bedroom window. She crossed a charming arched bridge, then made her way past an Ionic temple built alongside the bubbling stream. The path took a turn to the left, and Kat spied the earthen dam covered in a blue and pink swath of bluebells and rhododendrons just ahead.

  Beyond the dam, the water spread out in a placid pool. Kat’s gaze searched the shoreline for her sister. She spied a rowboat tied to a short wooden pier that stretched out into the water. She saw a pair of fishing poles leaning against a small stone supply building. Then her stare snagged on two pairs of shoes—Emma’s pink slippers and a sturdy pair of man’s boots.

  A plop in the water grabbed her attention. She found the expanding circle of ripples and followed the fishing line to its source. There, half hidden by a tree, she saw young Caroline.

  The girl stood at the bank of the pond, fishing pole in hand. Alone.

  Kat moved toward her, watching with trepidation as Caroline reeled in her line, then set her pole on the ground. She scooped up a handful of rocks, then scampered toward the short pier. Alone. Walked out on it. Alone. Dropped a rock into the water, then leaned over to watch it.

  Alone.

  Heart pounding, Kat picked up her skirts and dashed toward the little girl. Where was Emma! Where was Mr. MacRae? Please, God. Don’t let me be too late.

  Her gaze focused on Caroline, Kat finally noticed Emma in the periphery of her vision. Her sister was sitting on a quilt with that Scotsman, smiling up at him. Not paying one bit of attention to the child. “Emma, how could you!”

  Caroline straightened, gripped another rock, and reared back to throw. Kat’s heart lodged in her throat as she darted onto the pier. The rock went flying; the little girl teetered.

  Kat grabbed the girl around the waist and steadied her. Steadied her own heart. Caroline looked up at her with alarm in her eyes.

  Kat released a long breath. “You scared me, honey. I thought you were going to fall in.”

  “Kat, what in the world are you doing?” asked Emma, stepping onto the pier.

  Twisting her head, Kat shot her sister a furious look. “What am I doing? I think the question is what were you doing? How could you ignore her, Em? She almost fell in! She almost drowned!”

  “There’s only eighteen inches of water beneath that pier. Even if she’d fallen in, she wouldn’t have drowned. And I wasn’t ignoring her.”

  Kat snorted. “So you have eyes in the back of your head now? You certainly weren’t looking her direction while making cow eyes at that…that—” she cast a glance toward the bank where MacRae waited steps away from the pier “—that bounder. You have to watch children closely, Emma. You know that. Trouble can happen in an instant.”

  Kat felt a tug on her skirt and glanced down. Caroline smiled, then pointed to herself. Next, she pantomimed swimming strokes with her arms. “You can swim?”

  The child nodded, then puckered her mouth into fish lips.

  “You can swim like a fish,” Kat interpreted.

  “I confirmed that fact before we ever reached the water, Katrina,” Emma said, her voice sharp. “I understand your caution, but you should give me some credit. I’ve never neglected a child in my care.”

  “Unlike me,” Kat said softly.

  Emma winced. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  Kat closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “I know. I’m sorry. I guess I overreacted. Again.”

  She did that a lot. It was part of the reason she had such trouble being around her own niece and nephew. It wasn’t just that she couldn’t bear to be around them; she couldn’t bear to be around them without hovering, without smothering them with attention. It drove Mari and her little ones crazy.

  “All the more reason for me to get out of here as quickly as possible,” she murmured beneath her breath.

  In a normal tone, she said, “Emma, I need to talk to you. Privately.”

  MacRae proved himself useful at something other than flirting when he spoke up. “Hey, Caro? I think I see a rabbit peeking out from the flower patch. Want to walk with me and see?”

  The girl nodded, then darted off. The McBride sisters watched them for a moment, then Emma folded her arms and said, “What’s wrong, Kat?”

  “He knows,” she responded flatly. Then, agitated once again, she stepped off the pier onto the ground, motioned her sister to join her, and walked off in the opposite direction from MacRae. “That wretched pirate saw through my disguise. He knew who I was all along.”

  “Oh.” Emma sighed, then looked over at MacRae. Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip. “So Dair must know, too? Hmm…that explains a couple of things he’s said to me. Oh, well. You knew it was a long shot, Kat, and I can’t say I’m sorry that I won’t have to play the blushing prospective bride.”

  “Afraid it would conflict with your flirtation with MacRae?” Kat responded with a bite in her tone.

  “Why shouldn’t I enjoy an innocent flirtation?”

  Kat shrugged. “Never mind. You’re right. I’m sorry. I guess I’m not accustomed to you acting like…”

  “Like what?” Emma bristled. “Like you?”

  Kat’s chin came up. “I don’t flirt. Not anymore, anyway. But forget about that. We’ll find someone else for you to bat your lashes at, but for now, we need to leave. As quickly as possible.”

  “Did Kimball throw us out?”

  “No. It’s…well…it’s complicated. We can find an inn at the nearest village and stay the night. I want to leave right away.”

  Emma frowned and stuck her hands in the pockets of her dress. Her bare foot kicked at a stone lying just off the path. “I don’t.”

  Kat blinked. “What?”

  “I don’t want to leave.”

  “But, Emma, he knows!”

  “Then we won’t have to pretend. We can simply enjoy ourselves.”

  Kat gaped at her sister. This wasn’t like Emma. Not at all. “What’s gotten into you?”

  Emma’s gaze trailed back along the bank to where MacRae stood skipping stones with Caroline. With both his pant legs and his shirtsleeves rolled up, he waded ankle deep into the water to retrieve the perfect flat stones to throw. Noting the interest in her sister’s eyes, Kat bit back a groan. “It’s him, isn’t it? It’s more than a
simple flirtation. That man has turned your head!”

  Emma’s lips lifted in a smug smile. “I don’t know what it is, Kat. He’s…fun. I’m having fun. It’s been a long time since I’ve had any fun. I think I need it.”

  Fun? She wants to have fun? Now? Kat smoothed her hair back away from her brow. “I won’t argue that you could use a little amusement in your life, Emma, but it can’t be here and now. I have to get away from Jake Kimball.”

  “Why?”

  Frustration blew through Kat like a springtime thunderstorm. “Because I just do. I don’t want to go into details.”

  “I need details.”

  Kat blew out a heavy sigh. How could she explain to her sister what she didn’t understand herself? “He’s just…I don’t know…he’s giving me trouble. I can’t be around him.”

  “Trouble? What sort of trouble?”

  Aargh! “Emma, you are like a dog with a bone. Why the interrogation?”

  “Why not the interrogation? I’m supposed to drop what I’m doing and leave just because you say let’s go? Who made you queen, deciding everything we do, Kat? Hmm? Why is everything always about you?”

  Kat folded her arms. “Please, Emma. We’re not children anymore. Don’t you think you’re too old to be talking that way?”

  “Too old? Too old!” Emma braced her hands on her hips. Her eyes shot fire. “Maybe I am too old. Maybe I’m just old and tired. Tired of always being Emma the poor widow, Emma the dutiful daughter, Emma the supportive sister. Maybe I just want to be a flesh-and-blood woman. Maybe I just want to be Emma!”

  Taking a step back, Kat gawked at her sister. She was shocked. She’d had no idea that Emma had these feelings churning inside her. She wanted to be a good sister and explore her sister’s feelings but not right now. Right now she was in the middle of her own crisis! “He kissed me, Emma.”

  “He kissed you?” Annoyance flashed in Emma’s eyes. “See? That proves my point. I’m the one who comes here pretending to want to marry our host, and you’re the one who gets the kiss.”

  “I didn’t want him to kiss me!”

  “Why not? I’ll bet it was good. He has that look about him.”

  “Emma!”

  Her sister shrugged. “If you want to interrupt my weekend—a weekend you dragged me into, I might add—-just because a handsome man stole a simple kiss, then I’m not going to have it.”

  Kat set her teeth. Simple kiss? Not hardly. “It’s more than the kiss,” she said softly, calmly.

  “Then tell me.”

  Kat resumed walking, picking up her pace. Emma let out a frustrated sigh, then followed along. “Slow down, Kat. I’m barefoot.”

  “I noticed,” Kat grumbled. Then, in the way of sisters, she added, “You have a lot of nerve, Emmaline, having fun while I’m in the middle of a crisis.”

  “I know,” Emma replied, flashing a quick, wicked grin. “Now, what’s the crisis? Spit it out. What is it you’re trying so hard not to tell me?”

  “He picked me!”

  “Picked you for what?”

  “As the winner. The winner of his stupid contest.”

  “The bride contest?”

  “Yes!”

  Emma’s brows winged up. “But it’s barely started. And you’re Mrs. Peters, for goodness’ sake. I don’t mean to be insulting, honey, but you’re not at your best in that outfit.”

  “Apparently, that doesn’t matter to Jake Kimball.”

  “Hmm…” Emma resumed walking, her brow knitted in thought. “Of course, he has met you previously. You must have made quite an impression on him, Kat. Still, I’m surprised he’s calling a halt to the game this soon. Personally, I had my money on that Miss Starnes. Why would he pick…? Oh. The children. You saved his niece from the tiger that day at the zoo. He thinks you’ll take good care of the children when he’s gone.”

  “Exactly.” Kat glanced around on the ground until she spied another small rock, then she gave it a hard, satisfying kick. “Even if I were silly enough to consider his audacious proposal, I couldn’t do it. You understand that, Emma. Right?”

  “Well…”

  “Look how I overreacted a few minutes ago. You know I couldn’t bear to be responsible for those children.”

  Emma reached out and brushed a dragonfly off her sister’s shoulder. Gently, she said, “Do I know that? Do you know that?”

  Eyeing her sister warily, Kat asked, “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe that’s exactly the challenge you need.”

  “Children?” she squeaked.

  “Yes, children.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Kat shut her eyes against the frightening mental vision of herself, standing at a London intersection waiting to cross the street, attempting to hold the hands of four little girls while carrying a baby. “Look, I’m sorry to interrupt your fun, Emma, but I simply cannot stay here. Let’s go pack our bags. We can be out of here within the hour.”

  Emma stooped and tugged a daisy from the dirt. She plucked the white petals from the flower one by one. Finally the green stem plucked barren, she tossed it to the ground, dusted her hands and said, “I don’t think so.”

  “Em?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve already told you I’m not leaving just yet. This is a huge estate. If you want to dodge Jake Kimball, you can find plenty of places to hide.”

  Kat couldn’t believe her sister was being so stubborn. It wasn’t like her. Why, this was the first time she could remember Emma refusing any request of hers since…well… since Susie died.

  While Kat mulled over that bit of insight, Emma turned back toward MacRae and the girl. “I want this weekend, Kat. If you absolutely must leave, then leave without me.”

  “You’re being as hardheaded as—”

  “You?” Emma replied with a mischievous grin.

  Kat sighed. “If I hide in my room, will you promise to bring me food?”

  “Double desserts, even.”

  “All right, then. I’ll hold you to the double desserts. And I want…oh, my. Look at that” Kat pointed toward the manor house where Mrs. Hartman, the woman who’d retired to the music room to play a game of checkers with Belle, rushed down the west wing steps and headed straight toward the fountain. “Surely she’s not going to—”

  Mrs. Hartman jumped into the fountain with a splash.

  “She did,” Emma observed. “I wonder why?”

  “I can hazard a guess, and I’m impressed. If you’re bound and determined to stay here, I suggest you beware. I’m beginning to suspect that those girls could out-Menace the Menaces.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FROM THE THIRD-FLOOR window of a storage room filled with medieval armor, Kat looked down upon the lawn where Jake Kimball, his sister’s children, their new nanny, Miss Parker, and his guests played an unusual variation of croquet. Oh, they used balls and mallets and wickets, but their rule book must have come handwritten from tablets in the schoolroom. Watching Miranda pick up an opponent’s ball, then whack it with her mallet like a baseball against a bat and send it flying into a marble fountain, Kat couldn’t help but grin with nostalgia. She’d once done the exact same thing while playing croquet with her cousins, only she’d batted the ball into the Trinity River.

  It was the second day of their three-day visit, and Kat was beginning to relax. The room she’d chosen as her daytime hideout had proven safe enough so far. Jake Kimball hadn’t found her. In fact, from what she could tell, he hadn’t put himself out to look for her. So much for thinking he might be plagued by memories of her kiss.

  Kat insisted that wasn’t why she was feeling rather peevish. She hadn’t slept well last night. Instead of sleeping on a hard wooden pew in the chapel, she should have risked a bed in one of the unused guest rooms. But she’d been afraid Jake would find her and weave his sensual spell around her before she was entirely awake. Uncertain how she’d react in such a circumstance, she hadn’t wanted to risk it. She hadn’t thought he’d look for her in church
.

  Apparently, judging from comments he’d made to Emma over breakfast, he hadn’t looked for her anywhere. She sniffed, then muttered, “The rat.”

  It didn’t help her mood that she’d failed in her attempts to pick the lock to his room—a lock not even utilized the day before. She knew the cross was in there. She’d bet her necklace was, too. Being so close and yet so far fired her temper.

  Maybe she should have told him she knew he had it and demanded its return. That’s what she wanted to do, but she didn’t trust the man to do the right thing and hand it over. If she let on that she knew he had it, he’d surely hide it somewhere she’d never find it.

  She feared he’d already done just that. He’d known her identity from the beginning. He wouldn’t leave the necklace lying around for her to find. Not after he’d gone to the trouble to steal it.

  That’s something else she wanted to know. Why had he taken it? The man had baubles galore, many much bigger and more valuable than hers. What had made Jake Kimball sneak into Willow Hill and rob her?

  “I could ask him,” she murmured. Maybe she should just do it. Get everything out in the open. What’s the worst that could happen? She’d leave Chatham Park without her necklace. Kat was beginning to fear that might prove to be the case, anyway.

  Or maybe Emma could enlist the aid of Dair MacRae. The way the rogue looked at her sister, he might be willing to steal the Crown Jewels if she batted her eyes and asked sweetly.

  Outside on the lawn, Jake and his remaining guests appeared to be enjoying themselves. Yesterday’s pranks had thinned the ranks a bit. In the wake of their “accidents,” the Misses Walker and George had surrendered the field and departed Chatham Park.

  “They’re the smart ones,” Kat muttered, her breath fogging the window as she leaned closer to get a better look at Jake, who stood just at the edge of her vision. He threw back his head and laughed at something that Miss Yancy said. Kat couldn’t help but notice how broad and strong his shoulders looked or the way his trousers hugged his tight, firm buttocks as he put his back to the house. But when he moved to stand behind the shop girl, then reached around her and gripped her croquet mallet as though teaching her how to stroke the ball, Kat’s stomach took a funny dip.