The following week,Camilla stayed home and played games with the children. She and James formed an attachment, but Lizzyproved more difficult. The adorable little child played with them, but still refused to speak.
Stepping into the role of woman of the house, Camilla enjoyed planning the daily meals and organizing the staff, just as she had done when she was married to Fredrick. Doing something productive took her mind off her worries.
At first most of the servants seemed afraid of her, but as the days flew by, they warmed up just as James had. Camilla dared to ask them questions about Malcolm, hoping they wouldn’t suspect she was prying for information to see if he was the criminal Kat had mentioned, but the staff only knew Malcolm as a kind, understanding, and hardworking man.
Learning more from Malcolm proved extremely difficult, though. After the little incident with the soldiers in the bedroom, he’d hardly spoken to her. Every day he worked late at the office, blaming it on the new line of ships they planned to build for the navy. In the back of Camilla’s mind, she doubted his story, especially when her maid mentioned Malcolm didn’t build ships—he just drew the plans.
Another evening came with Malcolm staying late at work, so she put the children to bed. James kissed her cheek and gave her a hug. Lizzy only hugged her.
As she left and walked downstairs, the house was too quiet, so she wandered into the library. Not really knowing what she was in the mood to read right now, she walked around the room, touching Malcolm’s belongings, hoping by doing this, she would feel closer to him.
She shouldn’t be so emotional, but she couldn’t help feeling like a love-struck child. The man’s piercing gaze forced her to experience new feelings, things she had no right to enjoy. Since the day they met, his unkind words had struck like a knife to her chest, even though they were aimed at Kat. His treatment of her should have frightened her and hardened her heart against therogue, but it only made her want to show him how different she was. She wasn’t anything like her twin.
A strong knock pounded on the front door, and she jumped. Who could be here at this time of night?
After settling her nerves, she walked into the entry hall and opened the heavy oak door. When she recognized the man standing before her, her heart plummeted to the floor. What was Brandon Kennedy doing here? Wasn’t he at the office working late with Malcolm?
He leaned against the door and gave her a sly grin. “Good evening, Mrs. Worthington. I hope I have not caught you at a bad time.”
He stepped into the house without an invitation and closed the door behind him. Irritation filled her, but she would remain polite. “No, Mr. Kennedy, you have not caught me at a bad time. In fact, I have just put the children to bed.”
The rude man glanced around the corridor, then up the stairs. “Is your husband about? I need a moment with him.”
She hesitated to tell him her husband was working late, because Mr. Kennedy would certainly know if Malcolm was at the office.
“I believe he and Broderick stepped out for a little while.” She paused, hoping she could get rid of him quickly. “Is there a way I might assist you?”
Brandon gave her a mischievous smile, confirming her suspicions. He hadn’t come to see Malcolm at all.
He motioned to the parlor. “May we speak in private?”
“We have privacy now, Mr. Kennedy. I don’t see anybody around.” She primly clasped her hands to stop them from trembling.
He tilted his head to the side and raised his dark eyebrows. “I think you know what I mean.” Without waiting for an invitation,he walked into the parlor. “You have kept to yourself lately, and I came to inquire about your welfare.”
She took a quick inspection of the corridor and upstairs, hoping someone would be around so she wouldn’t have to face this man on her own. She pressed her linked hands against her stomach to cease the sudden churning inside. “Thank you for your concern, but I am well.”
His bold gaze raked over her, and her stomach lurched. Thankfully, she had chosen to wear one of her own gowns instead of her sister’s.
“Actually, Camilla, I have noticed a change in you, and I don’t think you are well at all.” He walked toward her. She remained still until he stood in front of her. He rested his hand on her shoulder, lightly caressing his thumb over her sleeve. “Didn’t you think I would notice when my lover shuts me out of her life?”
She knocked his hand away. “Mr. Kennedy, I don’t think it’s my place to hear about what happens between you and your wife.”
He laughed, and then stepped closer, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. She lifted her hand to block the contact, and struck his hard chest. “Mr. Kennedy, I must protest.”
“Oh, my dear Camilla, you can be so coy when you want to be.”
“Well, right now, I choose to be uncooperative.”
She pushed harder, and when that didn’t faze him, she stomped on his foot. Releasing a small yelp, he let her go. She hurried out of the room and to the library. The rude man followed with a slight limp. She moved around one of the sofas, keeping it between them.
“Mr. Kennedy, I don’t welcome your attentions,” she said, out of breath. “I have a good relationship with my husband, and I would like to keep it that way.”
Anger lines creased his forehead and around his pursed lips. A spark of fire lit his eyes.
“You thought you would use me to get what you wanted then discard me like some wealthy man’s leftovers?” He shook his head. “I think not, Camilla. We had a bargain, one you were quite eager to see through, may I remind you.” He folded his arms. “I took your husband on as my partner just as you wanted, and now you refuse my attentions?”
“I have decided it was a mistake, and I wish to withdraw.” Anger swept through her, making her breathe faster. How long could she hold out before screaming for assistance?
