Take My Heart (Heroic Rogues Series) (27 page)

“You shall always have me,” she muttered into his shirt.

Her warm breath brushed his skin, stirring awareness inside him once again. “Mercy, forgive me.” He kissed the side of her face and she turned and met his mouth with her lips. Holding her head, he devoured her mouth, hoping his love would show with every touch. She clutched his shirt, pressing against him. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. He ravished her mouth, trailed his lips over her tear-streaked face and down her neck.

He pulled away and gazed deep into her eyes. “Are you truly my wife? Are we indeed married?”

She nodded. “My name is on the marriage certificate. The man of God confirmed my belief, that proxy marriages are legal.”

“Please, Mercedes...let me love you the only way a husband can. Now.”

She held him closer. Love burst in his chest, and hope for a new beginning was finally within grasp.

Brandon Kennedy stalked across the office floor, his hands bunched into fists at his side. He kicked his chair from under the desk and it toppled and landed on the floor. Yanking off his overcoat, he cursed. He tossed it toward the coat rack, missed the mark, and it slid to the ground. Kennedy exploded with another set of curses as he marched over, picked it up and latched it on a hook.

William leaned back in his chair, holding back the grin that threatened to sneak across his mouth. Kennedy, along with all the Loyalists, had every reason to be upset today. Last night a prisoner escaped from the jail. Early this morning soldiers searched all of Philadelphia, but neither Mr. Hoskins nor his family was found.

William grinned, then rubbed his hand over his face, trying to wipe off his smirk. Now was not the time to gloat. “What ails you, Kennedy?”

Kennedy spun around, his eyes dark with fury. “You heard about the jail-break, did you not?”

“The jail-break? Oh yes. Mr. Hoskins, correct?”

Kennedy grumbled and fell into his chair. He balled his hands into fists and slammed them on his desk. “Yes. Those men who call themselves Sons of Liberty. Curse them, every last one.”

“Tis a shame.” William
tsked
. “And to think there is no trace of the family or where they have fled.”

“Cowards. All of them.”

William let out a heavy sigh. “Have you heard what the King’s Army will do? Does Captain Wilkes have a plan?”

“Not a word.” He glanced over his shoulder at William. “But I heard they have another suspect.”

William lifted his brows. “Pray tell, who do they suspect now?”

“They think they know the identity of the mysterious writer.”

William lost his breath, his heart plummeted to the ground. He cleared his throat. “Any ideas on whom they might suspect?”

“None. Only that they have someone in mind.”

William nodded and turned back to his drawing. Before now, nagging doubts about the mysterious writer being his wife weren’t conclusive. But he had cause to believe the writer was indeed his wife. Her thoughts had changed, and she’d voiced them to him. She’d followed him to the secret meeting, and was frightened for his life when Wilkes stopped her. Mercedes had confessed to wanting to help. He’d warned her not to get involved, it was too dangerous.

William prayed she hadn’t gone against his word.

This morning another flyer appeared written with the same dedication as the others. He believed his wife had written it, yet she hadn’t confessed.

Silence lasted for only thirty minutes before Kennedy growled and pushed away from his desk. He stormed over to the window, leaning his shoulder against the side. The man’s mouth pulled tight, his eyes dark in anger.

William wanted to laugh over his misfortune, but didn’t. Once the colonists won their fight, men like Kennedy would not be a threat any longer. William closed his eyes, praying for that day to come soon.

A rumble of laughter from his partner snapped him to awareness, and he turned to see what Kennedy found so amusing. The man wore a knowing grin, his arms folded across his shaking chest as he chuckled.

“What do you find so humorous?” William asked.

“Oh, just what is going on down the street.”

“And what is it?”

Kennedy glanced his way and scratched his chin. “It seems your wife has become bored with her latest interest and has gone back to spending time with Captain Wilkes.”

William’s body stiffened, his jaw hardened. But then he recalled what had happened before when he jumped to conclusions, and he relaxed. Kat was dead. Mercedes was his wife now. He couldn’t allow Kennedy to know he was affected or that he even cared.

William pushed himself away from his desk and stood. Taking deliberate slow steps, he made his way to the window. As Kennedy stated, Mercedes stood in front of a shop with a basket hooked over her elbow. Chatting with her was Captain Wilkes.

Without being able to help it, a stab of pain tore through William’s heart. When his wife laughed and touched the captain’s arm, the invisible knife in William’s chest twisted. He breathed slow, calming his heart. Mercedes needed to act this way. They must not make the captain suspicious, especially now.

William forced a laugh. “It does not appear she has gone back to Captain Wilkes. It looks like she is having a friendly conversation.”

“If you keep telling yourself that, perhaps you will believe it.”

William fisted his hands, feeling the urge to punch his business partner. “I must say, Kennedy, the green monster of jealousy has taken hold of you again.” He shook his head. “You must learn to control that.”

He walked back to his desk. Seeing Mercedes with Captain Wilkes was difficult, but it needed to be done. William only had to find a way to keep the doubt from twisting in his gut every time he saw her with another man. After all, she was portraying her sister. Yet, why hadn’t she done so until lately? She’d never acted like Kat until after they’d returned from the Burwell’s estate.

In frustration, he raked his fingers through his hair, wanting to know how he could quit becoming so suspicious.

* * * *

“May we call you Mother?”

Mercedes gasped at James’ question. Her heart quickened, and tears stung her eyes. Amazing how fast she became emotional lately, but James’ sudden request caught her by surprise.

She slowed the horse they’d been riding and looked down into his upturned face. His gray eyes glistened, looking so much like William’s. She smiled. “Of course you may call me Mother.”

“You will not get upset?”

“Why should I get upset?” She stroked her gloved fingers across his cheek. “I love you and
Lizzy
like you are my own children.”

His face beamed. “Indeed?”

She laughed. “But of course.”

“
Lizzy
is going to be happy when I tell her. She said
  
last night how much she wanted you to be our mother.”

Her heart melted, bringing with it a feeling of motherhood she never thought she’d experience. “Then let us hurry home so we can tell her.”

She reined the horse around and urged the animal into a gallop. A smile stretched across her face, and as each minute passed, her heart pounded quicker. Finally, she would have the family she’d always wanted.

In the distance, the figure of a woman darted behind a tree. Mercedes slowed the horse, studying what she’d just witnessed. Scanning the area, there wasn’t another horse in sight, and this would have been a long walk for someone traveling by foot.

She neared the tree. Nothing.

Mercedes shook her head. Perhaps her eyes played tricks on her today. Putting it aside, she kicked the horse into a gallop and continued on her way. When they approached the house, Hyrum ran out of the stable to take the reins.

“Did
ya
have a nice ride,
Miz
Braxton?”

“Yes, thank you, Hyrum. James and I had a pleasant morning.”

“Somebody came to see
ya
while
ya’all
were gone.”

She helped James off the horse. “Who was it?”

“Don’t know,
Miz
Braxton. Just a lady.”

“Did she leave her card?”

“No. Said she’d come back at a later time.”

She shrugged. “I suppose it was not very important, then.”

“
Yessum
, I suppose.”

She dismounted and took hold of James’ hand. They started out walking, but the closer they came to the house, their steps quickened until were running.

Laughing, they nearly slammed into the door. “Mother? I think
Lizzy
wants you to take her for a ride, too.”

“I can arrange that. I think we will have a wonderful time.”

James opened the door and walked in, but before Mercedes could step into the house, a cold chill ran down her spine, causing her to pause. She shivered and hugged her arms around her waist. Glancing over her shoulder, she studied the yard and the stable. It bothered her that she would have these feelings lately, like someone watched her.

Rubbing her arms, she stepped inside, putting the feeling behind her. Certainly it was utter nonsense. She let out a small laugh, remembering her father had become skittish just before...

She froze.
Father’s disease.
He’d been acting strange, thinking somebody watched him, also. Her heart sank. It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t have the same disease. Yet, Kat had it...so why not her?

Mercedes shook her head. She must not think in such a way. If, by chance, she had the same illness as her father and sister, she would have known before now.

“Mother, hurry.
Lizzy
is waiting.” James tugged on her dress.

Taking a deep breath, she smiled. “Coming, my dear.”

With unsteady hands, she smoothed out her bodice and skirt before following James upstairs into the nursery.
Lizzy
and Jane were playing together, and when the little girl spotted Mercedes, she ran to her and threw her arms around Mercedes’ legs.

She laughed and picked the girl up, hugging her tight. “You have certainly made my day,
Lizzy
.”

James jumped up and down in excitement. “
Lizzy
, Mercy says we may call her Mother.”

The little girl’s eyes widened, her smile stretched across her face, making it glow. “We may?”

“Yes, my dear.” Mercedes stroked the girl’s hair. “You may call me Mother.”

Lizzy
laughed and buried her face in Mercedes’ neck. James joined in and hugged her legs. Across from them, Jane stood and clasped her hands to her chest, tears glistening in her eyes. Mercedes’ own eyes filled with moisture from the happy occasion.

Yet fear lodged a hole deep in her conscience. Was there a chance she would someday become like her father and Kat? If so, her dream of a loving family would end soon.

* * * *

“It is good of you to meet me in private, Mrs. Braxton.”

Captain Wilkes opened the door to his carriage and helped her inside. She sat, adjusting her dress around her legs. When he climbed in and closed the door, he slid in next to her, his arm snaking around her shoulders.

Both scarlet curtains were drawn over the windows, but the afternoon light shone through, making the mood perfect for what she had planned.

She grinned. “Privacy is the only way we should meet, is it not, Henry?”

He pulled her against him, burying his face in her neck. Pleasure shivered through her and she clutched his coat, holding him closer. The husky aroma of leather floated around her. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. Her skin prickled with sensations long repressed.

“It has been quite a while since you have addressed me so informally, my sweet.”

“Forgive me if I am out of line,” she said.

“Never, my dear.”

He turned his face and met her mouth for a long awaited kiss. When he pulled away, a deep chuckle shook his chest. “Curse you woman for depriving me of this.”

Tenderly, she stroked his face. “As of late, I have not been myself.”

“True, but I am thrilled to see you have returned.”

He lifted her hand and placed kisses on her fingers. “Do you have any more information for me, my dear?”

“Yes. I know the identity of the mysterious writer.”

Captain Wilkes jerked up his head, meeting her stare. “Indeed?”

She nodded.

“Then pray, do not keep this information from me.”

She gave him a sly grin and a raised eyebrow. “And what prize will I receive for this information?”

Laughing, his chest shook as he pulled her closer. “Exactly what you are expecting, my dear. I know how you adore rubies. But give me the information first because I would love to see this person arrested.”

“The writer is not a woman as you have suspected, but a man.”

Henry’s brows lifted, his eyes widened. “A man you say?”

“Yes.”