Her Outlaw (11 page)

Relief washed over Emma as she sat up and touched the cool sheets beside her. He’d left the bed some time ago. Good.

Call her a coward, but she didn’t want to face him yet. Last night, she’d acted like a true McBride Menace, albeit a grown-up one. She’d been brazen and bold and shameless. Why, she would have made her grandmother proud!

Her father, however, would have a different outlook. “Well, Papa,” she said into the silence of the room. “You aren’t here.”

Thank God.

Surprisingly, Emma felt no shame this morning. Well, maybe just a little. Her wantonness did go against every principle she’d been taught, every moral truth she believed in. Her mother wouldn’t approve of her actions, but then, Jenny had Papa. She didn’t know what it was like to sleep alone, night after night, year after year. Maybe later Emma would feel worse about her actions, but right now, she simply felt too good to feel bad.

Although, she was glad to have some time to think before she faced Dair again. She needed to understand her own emotions so she’d know how to react to him. Not that she’d have much time to do the reacting. She’d promised Kat they would leave today.

Maybe you won’t even have to see him again.

That thought certainly left her with mixed emotions. The idea of sneaking off without having to face him for an awkward morning after had a real appeal. The idea of leaving Chatham Park without ever seeing him again left her feeling bereft.

“Oh, hang it all,” she muttered as she threw back the bedcovers and headed for the water closet adjacent to Dair’s bedroom where she found the day’s first sign of his presence. He’d left her a single red rose atop a clean change of clothing. Emma smiled at his consideration and sniffed the rose. She’d save it. Press it as a memory, and take it out on rainy afternoons, thinking of the man who called her Texas.

Setting the flower aside, she washed and dressed, her thoughts in a whirl. Of course, she wouldn’t leave without talking to Dair. She needed to see him one more time. She wanted one last look at those eyes, his smile. So, she’d face him and she’d thank him for a lovely night. Period. She wouldn’t have to go into detail. She need not tell him how wonderful he’d been or how delicious he’d made her feel. Frankly, she’d told him all that nonverbally last night.

So, she had a plan. One that made sense. She’d speak to him, then she’d pack up her memories and her sister and she’d head home to Texas, happy to have experienced such a phenomenal man, such a marvelous adventure.

Better do it sooner rather than later. He was the type of man she could fall for if given half the chance. Fall for hard.

“Not what I need,” she murmured as she picked up the hairbrush he’d left with the clothing. Dair seemed like the type of man who’d never settle for home and hearth, and as much as Emma had enjoyed her adventure, adventure is merely that. Family was real. Family was forever.

She stood in front of a mirror while she brushed her hair, debating which hairstyle would work best to cover up the love bite on the side of her neck. Although, she thought, smiling, maybe she shouldn’t cover it up. Maybe she should pin up her hair and dare someone to comment.

Kat was sure to spot it right off, and she’d more than likely give Emma a piece of her mind because of it. Her sister hadn’t always been so distrustful of men, but ever since she found herself with child by a scoundrel, she—

“Oh.” The hairbrush slid from her hand and banged against the floor. “Oh, Holy Hannah. What was I thinking!”

They’d taken no precautions last night. She’d been prepared, had the sheaths her grandmother had given her in her evening bag. Monique always believed in being prepared. But when Dair asked her to go upstairs with him, she’d forgotten all about them! How could she have been so foolish? She was almost thirty years old, for goodness’ sake. She’d witnessed that particular lesson firsthand watching Kat become an unwed mother. Kat, who’d at least had the excuse of believing herself married at the time.

What would she do if she turned up pregnant?

You’d have the baby you’ve always wanted. The child you didn’t get to have with Casey.

Maybe she’d forgotten the sheaths on purpose.

“No!” That sort of behavior went way beyond Menacing to truly self-destructive. She’d wouldn’t do that. Would she?

Maybe it didn’t matter. Gnawing on her lower lip, Emma did some quick calculations in her head. No. This was the wrong time of the month. Or, the right time, considering the circumstances. While accidents could always happen, she thought she was in the clear. She wasn’t the most fertile of women, anyway. She and Casey hadn’t made a baby, and they’d made love every night they were married up until the day he fell sick with pneumonia.

“Don’t borrow trouble,” she said to her reflection. Besides, she was almost thirty, wasn’t she? Often women were done having children by then. Maybe she’d be that way. Maybe she was already too old.

She ran her hand over her stomach as longing swept through her. Too old. With that depressing thought, Emma pinched some color back into her cheeks, then made quick work of finishing her hairstyle. A quick check of the clock showed her she’d slept most of the morning away. No wonder, since she’d managed only snatches of sleep during the night. Still, she was surprised that her sister hadn’t come looking for her yet.

Maybe Kat had checked her bedroom and assumed she was already up and out of the house, as was her norm. That sounded like a good idea, in fact. If she could sneak outside without being seen, then she could turn around and make a grand entrance and talk about the long, lovely walk she’d taken on the estate.

Happy with the plan, she slipped into her shoes, then reached for her necklace on the bedside table. Emma frowned. The necklace wasn’t there. That’s strange. She distinctly remembered when Dair took it off her and set it on the table.

She checked the floor, then beneath the bed. Nothing. Where in the world could it have gone?

Emma spent the next ten minutes giving the room a thorough search. She checked the bedding, the bureaus, and even the balcony. She went down on her hands and knees and examined the wooden floor, rugs and tiles. She even stirred through the ashes in the fireplace. Still nothing. Her necklace wasn’t here.

Someone had taken it. Who? A sticky-fingered maid? Hard to believe that with all the treasures in this grand house a servant would risk their livelihood for the pendant she wore around her neck. Who else, then? Her host? Maybe. Jake Kimball had already stolen one McBride necklace, had he not?

Maybe one of the children did it. They could have sneaked in and swiped it on a dare. Heaven knows the McBride Menaces had done that sort of thing all the time.

Despite those possibilities and more running through Emma’s brain, another suspect came to mind. Dair. The interest he’d taken in the piece had not missed her notice. The engraving obviously intrigued him. Maybe he’d decided to do some research on it in one of Chatham Park’s libraries.

Or maybe he’d stolen it like his good buddy Jake.

No. Emma dismissed the idea as soon as it occurred. He wouldn’t have done that. To make love to a woman for hours, then steal from her? What a betrayal that would be! Dair had to have more honor than that.

Still, he should have left her a note explaining that he borrowed it. He should have known she’d be worried. Men. Sometimes they simply didn’t think.

Emma cautiously checked the hallway for signs of life, then seeing none, slipped from Dair’s bedroom. She checked the rooms she’d known him to frequent first—the library, the study, a couple of drawing rooms. She asked an upstairs maid, a cook’s assistant and a gardener trimming bushes outside the music room if they’d seen MacRae that morning. They all answered no.

She joined two of Jake’s bride candidates doing embroidery in the morning room and managed to ferret out the information that while Jake had been in and out of the house much of the morning, Dair MacRae had made himself scarce. Emma sipped a cup of tea and pondered where to look next. She could find Kat and ask her, but she’d just as soon not have a private conversation with her sister right now. Kat would take one look at her and know how she’d spent the night, and Emma would just as soon avoid the conversation that would undoubtedly follow if at all possible.

The stables. That’s where she should check next. The stablemaster would know if Dair had gone out for a ride. She could wait for him there. And, avoid Kat in the meantime.

Emma made her excuses to the brides, then left the house by a side door. She found the stablemaster at his desk doing paperwork and muttering about the increasing price of feed. Emma pasted on her brightest smile and said, “Excuse me, Mr. Wolcott, but I’m looking for Mr. MacRae. Have you seen him, by chance?”

“Chance had nothing to do with it,” the man grumbled. “I’m an early riser—have to be with my job—but I like to have my coffee before I get to work. Didn’t see why he had to be in such an all-fired hurry. It’s a lot of work to get a coach ready for a long journey like that.”

Emma froze. “A long journey?”

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t wait for the train. Mr. Kimball does have fine coaches and superior teams, but he’d have saved time going by train, and I could have had my coffee!”

Emma opened her mouth and attempted to speak, but nothing came out. Her stomach took a nauseated roll. She cleared her throat and clarified. “Dair MacRae left here early this morning? Headed for where?”

“Scotland. He could have caught a train in town at noon, but no. He had to head out right that minute. Loaded up a bunch of books and a big old basket of food, and asked for a driver willing to travel hard and fast. Took my new man, Charlie. Worries me a bit as the man’s only been here a few days. I haven’t got a measure of his mettle yet. I hope he’ll do right by Mr. MacRae.”

Do right by Mr. MacRae? The idea made Emma want to giggle hysterically. Then because her knees turned to water, she grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself, and drew in a deep breath in an effort to calm her pounding heart.

She remembered Dair looking at her necklace and saying,
I swear I’ve seen something similar before.

He took it. The certainty roared through her. That bastard. That no-good lying thieving rogue. Betrayal sat in her stomach like a bad piece of meat. She swallowed hard, then said, “I see. Thank you, Mr. Wolcott. I appreciate your help.”

Emma exited the stables with a smile pasted on her face. Behind her upturned lips, her teeth remained clenched. She wanted to scream and shout. She wanted to kick something. Break something. Dair MacRae’s head, perhaps. Right after she cut off his dingus.

She felt a sick, slow churning in her gut. He’d used her. She’d given him her body and the horrible, awful, wicked, malicious, mean villain
used
her. The betrayal was beyond anything she’d ever felt in her life. She’d never seen it coming. She, whose judgement of character had never failed her before.

Well, it sure failed you this time.
He’d fooled her. Pulled the wool over her eyes. Bluffed her. Sold her a possum hide for rabbit fur. How could she have been so stupid? So naive? How could she have let him touch her? Hold her? Take possession of her body, her soul? My God, what he’d done to her last night. What she’d let him do!

“I’ll kill him,” she swore, fury pounding through her veins. “I swear I’ll have his guts for garters.”

Emma veered off to the maze where she walked without error or hesitation to the Greek temple where her downfall had begun. She gathered up a handful of rocks from the walkway before taking a seat on a stone bench. Eyeing the chaise lounge, she conjured up his image in her mind and threw a pebble hard. “You bastard.” She threw another rock. “I hope your coach breaks an axle.” And another. “I hope you get stranded in the middle of nowhere.” She threw two pebbles at once. “I hope a robber—”

Emma broke off abruptly. A robber. She let the remaining pebbles fall to the ground. “A robber.”

Rising, she began to pace the temple floor. It was a foolish idea. Really. She wasn’t twelve anymore. But she couldn’t actually murder him, and this would serve him right, wouldn’t it?

Hmm. She couldn’t be certain of his route. She might never catch up with him. Never find him.

However, this might be a good project for Kat. It might be just what she needed to do away with the doldrums for good. Look at how much she’d enjoyed impersonating Wilhemina Peters. She’d get a real kick out of this. During the McBride Menace days, her sister loved this sort of mischief.

“Why not?” Emma murmured. “What can it hurt to try?”

Nothing. Not a darn thing. She gave a pebble she’d dropped a swift kick. As it bounced off the chaise, she left the temple and retraced her steps out of the maze. With a goal now in mind, she knew the urge to hurry, so she picked up her skirts and rushed toward the house. She’d try Kat’s room first.

Upstairs, she gave a cursory knock, then walked inside saying, “Kat? I think it’s time the McBride Menaces rode again.”

But the room was empty, the only sign of her sister a half-written letter lying atop the desk. Thinking it might offer a clue to her sister’s whereabouts, Emma snooped.

Dear Mari,

I held a baby yesterday. A beautiful little boy.

Reminded me a lot of your little Drew. Holding him broke my heart.

I owe you an apology, Mari. I’ve been a terrible aunt to Drew and Madeline. I’m weak and sorry for it.

Kat went on to talk about Jake Kimball’s nieces and her reaction to them. The last lines she wrote struck a chord in Emma’s heart.

I’m trying very hard to get past losing Susie. I think had I a little more time, I might overcome the pain. However, Emma and I will be leaving Chatham Park today. Perhaps by the time I reach Texas I’ll

There, the letter ended. “Oh, Kat.”

Emma returned the page to the desktop and drummed her fingers on the surface. If what her sister had written was true, then Kat couldn’t leave. For her sake, for Mari’s sake, for Mari’s children’s sake, Kat needed to put this fear she’d developed after Susie’s death behind her. If being around Jake Kimball’s dependents a little longer would do the trick, then that’s what Kat needed to do. Emma would give up on her idea.