Seducing the Ruthless Rogue (20 page)

“No,” Mikala said.
 
“I wanted you to dine with us.
 
Send them a note telling them where you are so they will not worry.
 
I’ll have a footman deliver it.”

“I couldn’t impose.”

“You would not be imposing,” Mikala said.
 
“I hope that Abby will join us as well.”

“She has had a rough time.”

“Yes, she has.
 
Please, stay.”

“Perhaps another time,” she said, not feeling comfortable intruding on what would primarily be a family meal.

A knock sounded on the door and Cassie moved out of the way so that the butler could answer it.
 
On the other side stood Mack.

***

“What are you doing here?” Mack demanded.

“Stuart McKenzie, you will not talk to my guests that way,” Mikala ordered.

“Your guest?”

“I came to check on Lady Thompson,” she said.

“
Lady
Thompson?”

“Yes.
 
She was born with the title of Lady because of her father’s title.
 
So, that means regardless of who she marries, she retains that title.
 
You are not so ignorant that you do not understand how society works, are you, Director McKenzie?”

“Yes, Miss Graham, I believe I do.
 
You see, even though your father is a knight, you have no title.
 
Isn’t that correct?”

“And what title do you have, Director McKenzie?”

“I told you,
bastard
is the title I was born with,” he let the word roll off his tongue.

“If I hear you speak that word again, I’m going to find the heaviest thing I can and put a knot on your head,” Judith said as she walked down the stairs.

“Grandmother?
 
What are you doing here?”
 
Mack rushed over to her, lifted her off the bottom step and swung her around, hugging her.

“And to think, a few years ago, he didn’t even know she existed,” Mikala said, a smile on her face.

“I have several reasons for being here, but the most important will be announced at dinner.
 
Now put me down and watch your mouth,” she said, slapping his arm.
 
“I also came to see my darling great-granddaughter, which reminds me, when are you going to get married and start having children?”

“Don’t start,” he growled.

“I was just leaving.
 
I had a wonderful time, Mikala.
 
Judith, it was wonderful meeting you.”

“Are you certain you won’t stay and join us?”

“No, but thank you once more.”

“Ho there,” Mack yelled to the driver.
 
He made a motion and the driver turned the horses and made his way around the square.
 
“Miss Graham,” he held out his arm to her.

“Thank you, Director McKenzie,” she said and lightly took his arm.
 
“Your grandmother is quite a force to be reckoned with.”

“Especially when she and Mikala are together.
 
It is truly frightful,” he said.

The hack pulled to a stop and he helped her inside.
 
“Thank you, Director McKenzie,” she said, trying to be civil.

“My pleasure, Miss Graham,” he said before shutting the door.
 
He called out the address to the driver and then stood there, watching it drive off.
 
Why was he watching it?
 
Was he hoping she might open a window and wave at him?
 
Perhaps she would…
 
“Stop,” he directed himself.
 
“She wants nothing to do with you, and you don’t have the time for a relationship.”

“Mack, what are you doing standing out here?” Gabe asked as he rode up on his horse and dismounted.

“Nothing.
 
Been riding?”

“Yes, but that’s fairly obvious, isn’t it?”
 
He passed the reins to a groom who led the horse to the mews.

“Grandmother is here.”

“Wonderful.
 
What mischief have she and Mikala been into?”

“I don’t know, but I think it might involve Miss Graham and Lady Thompson.”

“Shall we go see?” Gabe asked, clapping the other man on the back.
 
They walked up to the door together.
 
Gabe greeted his grandmother, then his wife.
 
They all entered the parlor to await the announcement of the evening meal when another joined their number.
 
“Hamlin,” Gabe called, and crossed the room, greeting the old family butler.
 
He had retired shortly after Gabe and Mikala had married, declaring they needed someone younger to help watch the children they were sure to have.

“Master Gabriel,” the old man said.

“Oh, please, none of that,” Gabe said, shaking the man’s hand.

“Now that all of you are present, I have an announcement to make,” Judith said.
 
They all looked on expectantly.

“I am no longer, Lady Hawkescliffe or Lady Hawke.”

“What do you mean?” Gabe queried.

“Hamlin and I were married at Gretna Green.”

“What?” The word could be heard echoing about the room.

“I have no plans to return to society, and I refuse to live out my life pining for the man I love.
 
Your grandfather has been gone for years.”

“Judith, I am so happy for you!” Mikala squealed excitedly, hugging Judith tightly, then Hamlin.

“I am shocked but happy for you, too,” Gabe said squeezing her tightly.

“Good for you, Hamlin,” Mack said, shaking the man’s hand, then he hugged his grandmother tightly.
 
“If he makes you unhappy, you just let me know.
 
I’ll take care of him.”

“Mack, you’ll do no such thing.”

“Supper is ready,” Riggs announced.

“Riggs, we are celebrating!
 
We need champagne!” Gabe announced.

“Yes, Your Grace,” the man said, bowing low and leaving the exuberant group.
 
What kind of master is it I work for?
 
If they could hear what he was thinking, they would have simply laughed.

Chapter 11

Cassie felt inspired over the next few days.
 
She wrote article after article about the plight of the poor and the working class.
 
She even wrote an article about what members of the
ton
were willing to go through to have their children find successful matches.
 
Cassie touched on the fact that men were willing to steal and barter human lives for the advancement of their lines with little thought as to what it meant to their children.
 
She despised the social structure and how it rewarded those that were wealthy and did very little in life, and it came through in her writing.

Once she had a sizable stack of articles, she bundled them in a portfolio and left the house.
 
After walking several blocks, she found the boy she was searching for.

“Good afternoon, Alfred.”

“Afternoon, Miss Cassie.
 
You need me to take that to the news office for you?”

“Yes, please.
 
How is your mother?”

“Fine, Miss Cassie.”

“And your sister?”
 
The boy looked down, his lips quivered just slightly.
 
“I will continue to pray for her,” Cassie said, putting a comforting arm around the boy and an extra half pence in his hand.
 

“I’ll deliver this as soon as I sell my last paper.”

“That’s fine,” Cassie nodded and patted the boy on his shoulder.
 
“Thank you, Alfred.”
 
Cassie walked off down the street, her heart heavy for the little family.
 
Alfred’s little sister had been ill for quite some time, and her malnourished body could not fight the illness.
 
It was a situation that saddened her and she felt a sense of hopelessness.
 
She would give Alfred additional money when she could, but she and Chang had barely survived the last year.
 
Now with another mouth to feed, it would be even more difficult.
 
Perhaps Papa could work out something with the government—for every one of his inventions that they used, he would receive an income.
 
She mulled over the option.

She walked, mingling with other residents of her impoverished neighborhood.
 
Cassie nodded to those that she knew.
 
She paused and spoke to others.
 
After walking aimlessly, she arrived at a small park.
 
It was nothing like Hyde Park or Green Park, but there were trees and flowers.
 
The park also lacked children running about because parents that lived here did not have time to take their children out to play, and sadly most of the children were working in some manner themselves.

Cassie found herself drifting, wondering just how the other half lived.
 
The Duke and Duchess of Hawkescliffe were nice, but she knew they were not the normal members of the
ton
.
 
She wondered what it would be like to attend a society event.
 
What would it be like to dress in finery and mingle with the wealthy and privileged?
 
Why are you even thinking about this?
She asked herself.
 
Why would you want to mingle with the people that you despise?
 
But again, she found herself thinking about all the people she had recently met and how warm and welcoming they were.
 
Perhaps they were not all as cold and despicable as she once thought.
 

“You will never have the opportunity to find out,” she said aloud.
 
She started to stand when she saw a familiar figure on the other side of the park.
 
The man who remained uppermost in her thoughts stood talking to a food vendor.
 
Mack exchanged money for a meat pie.
 
He nodded his head at the vendor and entered the park.
 
He must have seen her for he paused then turned around.
 
Anger suffused her.
 
Until she saw him approach the vendor, give the man more money, and receive another meat pie.

He entered the park once more and approached her.
 
She straightened, and pulled her light shawl close about her shoulders.
 
She looked down and realized she had forgotten to tug on her gloves before leaving the house.
 
Ink stains covered her hands, one of the downsides of being a writer.
 
She could do nothing about it now.
 
Her heartbeat picked up a little as he came closer.

“Hello, Cassie,” he said.
 
His Scottish brogue caused invisible shivers to race up her spine.

“Director,” she returned.

“Someday I’ll have you calling me Mack.”

“I doubt that,” she retorted.

“Ach, now, you don’t think so?
 
Hmmm.”
 
He pulled out a handkerchief, popped it open, and draped it on the bench next to him, away from Cassie.
 
He lay the uneaten meat pie on it and folded the corners up to cover it.
 
Then he bit once more into his.
 
The aroma escaped, surrounding them.
 

Cassie’s stomach growled loudly, embarrassingly.
 

“Hungry?” Mack asked.

“Not in the least,” she stubbornly replied.
 
Again her stomach growled as he took another bite.

“I tell you what, lass.
 
I’ll let you have this other meat pie, which I must say is delicious, if you will address me by my name.”
 
He held his hand up, stopping her when she would speak.
 
“Let me clarify.
 
You cannot call me ‘Director’, ‘Director McKenzie’, ‘Stuart’, or ‘Stuart McKenzie’.
 
I want to hear you say, ‘Mack’.”

Silence.

“It is the most delicious meat pie you can find in all of London.
 
His wife makes them, and I know she has a secret ingredient.
 
They are amazing, you really must try them.
 
I know you can say it,” he coaxed.

She pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders and crossed her arms in a huff.
 
How dare he manipulate her with food?
 
Why am I even staying here?
 
“You are a despicable man, and I hope that you choke on that most
delicious
meat pie,
Director McKenzie
,” she gritted out, standing and looking disgustedly at him.
 
Cassie turned to leave when a pop sounded.
 
At the same time she felt a burning in her arm, she went flying through the air.
 
Cassie landed on her back with a large, muscular Scotsman on top of her, and half a meat pie smashed between them.