Ian looked over to his father. Jarrett was not amused; he was concerned. Arms crossed over his chest, he leaned closer to his son, making their conversation private. “The lady seduced you at the pool? Or you seduced her? Are the rumors true?” he demanded quietly.
“No one was seduced, Father,” Ian replied honestly. “It was an accidental situation.”
“Men can survive such accidental situations; Miss McMann is ruined. You do realize that. Teddy McMann stands there, his heart breaking, certain that he has destroyed his daughter’s life through his selfishness in living on an island to pursue his vocation.”
“If you are reminding me, Father, that there is but one honorable way out of a difficulty caused by vicious gossips, I assure you, I have taken the matter in hand.” He hesitated, glad that he’d not had much chance to talk to his father yet, and that he’d never mentioned his intentions to marry the colonel’s daughter, Risa Magee. “Father, Alaina and I have already wed.”
Jarrett started at that, his brows jutting up, jet-black eyes assessing his son carefully. Whatever his thoughts on the matter, he wasn’t going to express them then. “I’ll give you a moment to tell Teddy McMann; I’d not like to see his heart fail when such a surprise is revealed to everyone in this room. I shall ask the musicians to take a break, and allow you to make the announcement as you see fit.”
Jarrett stepped away from his son. Ian turned to Teddy McMann, who was watching him with the eyes of a man who had been kicked—but was still determined to seek good in his attacker.
“Mr. McMann, you deserved much better from me, sir, but I think now is the best chance I have of letting you know that Alaina and I… have married.”
Teddy stared at him blankly.
Tara McKenzie, at Teddy’s side, gasped.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Ian murmured quickly.
“Married?” Teddy inquired. “But how could this be? When did such a marriage take place? My daughter keeps no secrets from me—”
“It’s your right to annul our wedding, sir, if that’s your choice,” Ian told him. Teddy shook his head. “I’d never deny Alaina what she wanted; I’m just so… stunned.”
The musicians had stopped playing again. Jarrett McKenzie stood on the raised dais at the far end of the breezeway where they had played. “Ladies, gentlemen … if I may ask your indulgence for a few moments, it seems we have another announcement this evening, and one quite close to home. I will let my son do the honors.”
Ian turned, seeing where Julian stood with Alaina. He walked through the crowd, which parted obligingly for him. Then he took Alaina’s hand and returned to the dais with her. “Friends, honored guests,” he said, staring across the room, his eyes alighting upon many of those who had most cruelly vilified them. “Circumstances have called upon me to make an announcement I’d intended to share privately with my parents first,” he stated, his tone chagrined. “But since I’m afraid my eagerness to be with the woman I love was prematurely discovered, I must share our happiness with all of you, here, tonight, as well. Ladies and gentleman, I present to you my wife, Alaina Mc… Kenzie.”
The room made a collective gasp. There were whispers of astonishment, and relieved laughter as those friends who wondered at the morals of the heir to Cim-arron Hall and the botanist’s daughter were assured all was well.
“But, but—when did this wedding occur? You mean to tell me your parents knew nothing?”
Ian glanced across the room, recognizing the sweetly concerned female voice. Lavinia’s.
Ian drew Alaina to him. She was staring at him, with those beautifully unique eyes of hers exceptionally wide. Her cheeks were flushed to a startling rose. Her look of horror might have been mistaken for adoration. Her hand fell upon his jacket as his arm circled around her. The silky softness of her hair teased his cheek and lay like pure gold against the dark navy of his uniform. The clean scent of her body seemed to subtly infuse the air he breathed, and holding her thus, he was reminded of every lush, firm curve of her body. A fever was awakened within him, making his story come easily, passionately to his lips. “I’m ashamed to say that my parents knew nothing. Yet I believe they will both forgive me; having seen my bride, they can well understand my feelings.” His voice trembled just slightly.
The perfect touch.
He wasn’t so much an actor; his apparent emotion was actually simple lust.
She pulled away slightly, looking up at him. A pulse beat furiously against her throat. Her breasts rose fashionably above the bodice of her gown. He knew exactly what lay beneath the fabric. He brought his fingers to her cheek, and lowered his mouth to hers. He heard the softest breath of protest, but ignored it. His lips formed over hers; tongue teased, delved. She was warmth, sweet liquid fire. A sudden, knifing ache of desire was awakened in him in a way that left him shaken. She’d aroused him before, naturally—a young, perfect, naked woman in the pool….
This was worse.
He drew his lips from hers. Her eyes spit fire. Her lips were damp and swollen; she was struggling for breath. And he found himself wondering furiously if she was still in love with Peter O’Neill, and indeed, just how and where O’Neill had touched her.
Congratulations were called out to them. Yet among all the kind words came one far different cry. “I don’t believe it; it can’t be, they must be lying!”
Peter O’Neill. Ian saw the man standing then in the center of the room, facing them. He felt Alaina grow tense, and the spiral of emotions inside him tightened dangerously. He manage to ask politely, with just an edge of warning to his voice, “Why, Mr. O’Neill, are you calling me a liar, sir?”
“Peter!” O’Neill’s gruff old father called out the quiet warning.
Peter grated his teeth. He didn’t dare call Ian out. Peter was a fair swordsman, but Ian had gained a reputation in the military for being deadly. Peter also risked his own newly announced engaged status if he made too much noise about another man’s marriage.
Peter rallied quickly. “Ian McKenzie, not on your life, sir, would I call you a liar. Surely you have legal documentation. I confess, I merely express the amazement of everyone here, and naturally, my concern for Miss McMann.”
“I thank you for your concern!” Teddy McMann suddenly called out, his voice strong as he approached the dais. “Quite frankly, I am delighted to discover that there is little I need ever fear for my daughter again, since she is in the care of our Major Ian McKenzie, though I hope she will accept my love all her life.”
“Papa!” Alaina whispered softly. Escaping Ian’s hold, she fell into her father’s arms, hugging him.
“I say congratulations are definitely in order!” Julian cried out. “Champagne, my friends, all around. Here, here! To my brother Ian. And to Alaina, the most elegant, magical creature in the world. Ian, to you and Alaina!”
Bedlam then broke out. Ian didn’t see his bride again for quite some time. He found that champagne was pressed into his hand, and that he was moving through his home, passed from friend to friend, and onward. A very warm hug suddenly assailed him, and he discovered that he was being held by a tall, slender young woman with stunningly dark eyes and hair, and an ivory and rose complexion so perfect that she almost seemed unreal. His sister, Tia.
“Ian! You devil. You didn’t whisper a word to us. I hadn’t even realized you’d seen Alaina McMann in forever. Of course! You’ve been down in the south quite a bit lately, right? But not to tell us, oh, Ian!” She stepped closer. “Or is it a lie? Did that scandalous episode at the spring occur? Ian—”
“Tia!” he moaned. “Behave.”
“Ian!” she returned. “Tell me this at least—are you really married?”
“Yes. Now, Tia, please, act like the charming young lady of the house and don’t get the guests all staring at me again, eh?”
She kissed his cheek. “Did Sydney know before now?”
“No, no one did,” he told her. “Tia, you know that you’ll get the whole story eventually—you’ll
torture it out of someone soon enough. For the moment—”
She smiled, then hugged him again. “Love you, big brother,” she said softly.
His arms tightened about her, then he released her, just in time to find himself being engulfed by his cousin Sydney, his aunt and uncle, and his cousin Jennifer and her husband, Lawrence Malloy, and then his cousins, Jerome and Brent, his best friends since childhood, all of whom were baffled, but discreet.
The night wore on.
He saw that Alaina stayed beside her father, not letting him move away, even though she, too, was being buffeted from well-wisher to well-wisher. Those who had most probably reviled her so soundly just moments before.
But she was married now. Into the McKenzie clan.
His cousin Sydney, friends with Alaina from birth, seemed especially pleased with events, though puzzled. He felt her eyes on him continually as time wore on. He stared back at her, then noted throughout the evening that Peter was watching her as well, as if he meant to corner her.
Sydney McKenzie was stunning. Tall and slim, she had her mother’s emerald eyes and her father’s raven hair. James McKenzie was half-breed Seminole, and his Indian blood had come down to Sydney in a way that made her exotically beautiful. Her eyes were a product of her white blood; her hair was Seminole, thick, lustrous, straight. Her flesh was flawless, golden. If Peter O’Neill went anywhere near his cousin that night, Ian would skewer the man.
He took a deep breath. He was hardly thinking in a civilized, rational manner.
Alaina McMann had done this to him.
Alaina McKenzie. He had married her. He suddenly felt exhausted.
“Ian?” He turned to find his mother before him, her gaze upon him betraying nothing of her thoughts. “Because of the distance to their home, Alaina and Teddy would have been staying here for the night even before… your announcement. Lilly has seen to it that Alaina’s things have been moved out of the guest room, where she would have been staying with a number of the other young ladies, to your room.”
He stared at his mother blankly for a moment. “Ah.”
She frowned, blue eyes studying him carefully. “Ian, you are married?” she inquired softly.
‘Yes, Mother. We’re married.”
“Well, then, you’ll want your wife with you.”
His wife… with him. A part of his world.
He didn’t know if he exactly wanted her with him; but he certainly did want her.
Marriage … so high a price for desire!
What of life, what of tomorrow? What of the colonel’s daughter, and the life he had imagined he would lead?
He inhaled. “Mother, I’m really sorry—”
“Ian, don’t be sorry. You have lived your life in a manner that’s made us quite proud; we trust your decisions. Besides,” she murmured, “maybe one day I’ll tell you how your father and I came to be married. Teddy is a good man; your bride is beautiful. Julian is right. She has surely grown into one of the loveliest young women I have ever seen.”
“She’s indeed lovely,” Ian murmured. He didn’t add promiscuous, reckless, and hot-tempered.
His mother kissed him on the cheek and slipped away. He turned and found himself with Teddy McMann again. Teddy was studying him with his soft, trusting blue eyes and Ian was annoyed to discover himself feeling twinges of guilt. “Sir, I do have documentation that we are legally wed,” he said.
Teddy nodded gravely. “McKenzie, I’m not quite sure what went on here, and quite frankly I don’t want to know. I admit…” He hesitated. “I love my daughter; I would gladly die for her. But I’m afraid that my love has made me indulgent and Alaina has always done what she has pleased. She rides, shoots, fences, swims… I’m grateful she’s found you, McKenzie. For she might well lead a lesser man on a merry chase. God bless you, son!” Teddy said, and moved into the crowd again, perhaps looking for his daughter. Where was she? Ian wondered. Then he saw her. She was with Tara, and she was quite white. She was probably learning that she had been moved into Ian’s room at Cimarron Hall.
“Ian!”
He swung about. His brother Julian and his cousins Jerome and Brent were lined up before him. Julian carried a bottle of their father’s finest whiskey.
“With careful observation, brother, you’ll note that Cimarron’s guests are leaving already, and of those who are staying, most have retired upstairs,” Julian said.
“Before the night wanes further, we McKenzies need to toast you!” Jerome told him gravely. Like Sydney, James’s sons carried their white and Indian blood in a striking manner. Jerome had deep cobalt eyes like Ian’s own, strong, bronze features, and a touch of auburn to his dark hair. Brent was green-eyed with rich, heavy Seminole hair, so dark it seemed to shine blue-black. They were all of a near height, every one of them over six feet, and built similarly as well. Jerome had studied engineering and shipbuilding while Brent had attended medical school with Julian.
“The first of our generation of McKenzies to marry, my good lad,” Brent said. “Well, other than Jennifer!”
“And marry Alaina; how very curious,” Jerome added.
“Come outside, away, to the porch,” Julian urged in a whisper. “This is a McKenzie-only toast.”
Ian found himself propelled outside. They didn’t stay on the porch, but wandered to the lawn, a fair distance from the house, passing the whiskey bottle back and forth as carriages departed from Cimarron.
“So you have married our Alaina—and without a one of us knowing a thing about it!” Jerome said, eyeing him questioningly.
“In a way, of course,” Brent added, “we’re like her next of kin—Jerome, Sydney, and I.”
“She grew up by us,” Jerome reminded Ian gravely.
“Right. If the rumor had come back about her being at the pool with someone else…” Brent said.
“We’d have been called upon to defend her honor, naturally, since she had no brothers of her own,” Jerome informed him.
“However, since we’re your cousins—” Brent said.
“Closest kin,” Jerome noted.
“Excuse me, I am his brother,” Julian interjected. “That actually places me as closest kin.”
“All right, we’re second-closest kin. We want to know exactly what really happened,” Jerome said.
Ian hesitated. Then he shrugged. “We had both decided to go swimming. We ran into each other. We were… seen.”
“So you’re not married,” Jerome said with a frown.
“My dear, closest kin,” Ian said, “if this toast is for me, you can hand over the whiskey bottle.”
Brent, in possession of said bottle at the moment, handed it over. Ian cast his head back and took such a swallow that he burned inside from throat to gullet. He lowered the bottle, took a deep breath, and discovered the three ringed about him in a semicircle, staring, waiting impatiently for his reply. He drank deeply again.
They still stared, patience waning.
“We are really—and legally—married.”
“But how in the devil—” Jerome began.
“Marriage is quite damned easy, and you’ll manage well enough once you get to it. You just keep saying ‘yes’ or ‘I do’ when you’re asked a series of questions.”
Jerome slowly arched a brow, looking to Julian and his brother. “I’m not quite sure why I’m concerned here. I believe, actually, that he and Alaina deserve one another.”
“She’s capable of being every bit as sarcastic,” Brent agreed.
“Determined and stubborn,” Jerome agreed.
“Pigheaded,” Brent elaborated.
“Umm,” Julian murmured. “And he is a tyrant. Ian always thought he had the right to be the leader with us—”
“I was oldest,” Ian said, taking another long swallow of whiskey. It didn’t burn as badly as it had at first, and it seemed to be taking a few of the razor-sharp edges off the night. “I did have the right to lead.”
“Well, there you have it!” Jerome said dryl
y. “My ancient cousin—older than you and I by what, Julian, a little more than a year?—likes to take command. Alaina refuses to do what she’s told by anyone. This is just wonderful. They should get along like oil and water. A marriage made right in heaven. The question remains: When did it occur—and why?”
Ian arched a brow. The night was growing very late; the moon was nearly full and directly above them in the dark sky. He might well stay here forever if he didn’t answer them, and if he could count on secrecy from anyone in the world, it was these three. The whiskey was warming him; he was tired. He’d spent his journey home worrying about the state of the Union, and he’d ended with this. His head was pounding, and he did have a newly acquired wife with whom to come to some understanding before the night ended. “All right, my dear, closest kin, I’ve now been married several long hours at the very least. It occurred because the young lady seemed to be escaping an unhappy situation. It seems she believed that Peter O’Neill intended marriage—to her, rather than Elsie Fitch,” Ian said.
“I’ll throttle him,” Jerome said darkly.
“No—should the need arise, I’ll take care of the man myself. Nothing happened at the spring pool, but since no one other than my family and Teddy would believe the truth, I thought we’d best marry quickly.”
“Ah!” His brother and his cousins stared at him with a collective sigh.
“But it is—really—legal?” Jerome said.
“Reverend Dowd married us.”
“It’s quite legal,” Julian murmured. “But what a strange situation. The last time I saw you, there was a colonel’s daughter involved in your life.”
“And then there had been rumors about Alaina, of course, and I’d been under the impression that she—” Brent began, but broke off instantly.
“That Alaina was involved elsewhere?” Ian demanded with an edge.
“Sydney had thought that she was expecting to marry elsewhere soon, and that she was in lo—interested in someone. I now assume it was Peter O’Neill. Well, that’s over,” Brent said quickly. “Look, look back to the house. The lanterns are being doused.”