Renegade (27 page)

“Holt, please. We’re going to be family.”

“I’m sorry,
Mr. Baird
, but there’s been a mistake. Mac and I aren’t getting married.”

Holt’s right brow rose, and he shifted slightly, bringing his brother under his icy gaze. “I’ve had it from one of the servants of Major Jonathan Creel, to whom you announced your engagement two days past.”

As if she could forget.

In desperation, she turned to Mac, willing him to help her explain. Finally, he got the message and sighed. Then he straightened his shoulders and flashed a summer-lightening smile full of chagrin. “Becks is right. I haven’t asked her to marry me.”

“Then ask her, for God’s sakes! She’s Eugenia Middleton’s daughter! You can’t just assume—”

“This was Eugenia’s idea. She thought that my pretending to court Becks would alleviate suspicion.”

Becks wondered how much, if anything, Holt knew about his brother’s renegade ways. Apparently enough, because he waved one hand dismissively. “I don’t think I want to know details.” But then he pierced Mac with an icy stare. “What I want to know is if you claimed to be engaged to this young
lady
and then took her from her home on your ship for an indefinite period of time, with only your crew as a chaperone?”

Mac seemed almost proud when he nodded. “Yeah.”

She managed not to groan, but it was close. What was he doing? Couldn’t he tell how angry Holt was becoming, at the realization she’d been thoroughly compromised? The state of her virtue shouldn’t matter a bit to anyone besides herself, but from the way the older man was glaring at his brother, copper and ice blue battling for control, Becks knew Holt was livid.

She twisted her hands together, and wondered why Mac wasn’t doing something to appease his older brother. She wasn’t
scared
of him, exactly; Holton Baird might look like the very devil, but surely he wouldn’t hurt his brother? No, Becks was worried about what he would do, as the head of the family.

The scarred man nodded once, his eyes hard. “Then you know what you have to do.”

It wasn’t a question, and Becks didn’t understand it. She shifted her increasingly frantic gaze to Mac, who raised his chin with a small grin. “Yeah.”

“
What
does he have to do?”

Holt might have answered had Bennett not stepped into the room and announced, “Mrs. Eugenia Middleton and her companion, Pearl,” in his stiff voice. Becks swung around in surprise, and sure enough, her mother and sister swept through the door.

Eugenia went directly to Holt, and gave the startled man a hug. Becks ignored her, crossing to her sister. She hadn’t spoken to Pearl before they’d left Beckett the morning before; she hadn’t wanted to, after her sister’s rudeness to Robert. But now she was pleased for an ally. “What are you doing here?” she hissed under her breath, grabbing Pearl’s hand. Her sister smiled weakly.

“I couldn’t let
you
have all the fun, could I?”

“You think this is
fun
?”

Of course Robert chose that moment to stalk through the door, all tense muscles and unspoken anger. He positioned himself against the wall, crossed his arms in front of his massive chest, and glared daggers at Pearl. Beck’s sister pretended to ignore him, and only someone who knew and loved her would notice the color that rose in her cheeks.

So she squeezed Pearl’s hand in both of hers and drew her identical eyes back to Becks. “Pearl, what are
you
doing here?”

Her sister sighed. “I thought Eugenia just wanted to come visiting. It wasn’t until this morning—” She cut a glare towards Robert. “That I found out what all those barrels in the back of the wagon
really
were.”

Becks sucked in air.
Of course
. Of
course
! Mac still needed some way to get his smuggled goods in Charleston. She hadn’t so much forgotten his profession, as pretended he hadn’t existed for the last week on Edisto. Still holding her sister’s hands, she swung to face Mac.

“It wasn’t enough for you to risk Zeb’s life? You had to drag my sister into this?” His jaw was hard, but she thought she saw some uncertainty in his eyes. It didn’t quite go with the impassiveness he was trying to convey. “What would’ve happened if my mother had been stopped? You had to get her involved?”

Mac shrugged and crossed his arms. “Your mother—” He nodded politely towards Eugenia, who stood beside Holt, pretending nonchalance. “Got herself involved.”

“That does
not
make it better! And Robert!” She flung her finger out towards the big man, and even Pearl took a step back at the vehemence in her voice, pulling her other hand free. “What would’ve happened to
him
?”

Another shrug. “Ask him.”

So she swung on Robert, stalking across the room, not caring that she must sound like a harpy. “Why did you go with them, Robert? Could it be that you didn’t trust the ladies with your precious illegal cargo?” She heard her mother’s sharp intake of breath. “Or some stupid sense of chivalry? Were you there to keep them safe at the risk of your own neck?”

Robert could’ve given Mac lessons in indifference. Hell, he probably had. His gaze flicked to Pearl, but Becks didn’t bother to turn to see her sister’s reaction. Finally, he shrugged, and said, “Had to protect my share of the lace, didn’t I?”

“Lace?” She took a step away from him, not quite understanding. “Lace?”

Then it all snapped into place. “
Lace
?” Could she help it that she was shrieking when she turned to Mac? “
Lace!
You put my people in danger—you put my
family
in danger—over Goddamn
lace
?”

She saw her mother pinch the bridge of her nose, a gesture that meant she was irritated with something, but Becks didn’t care. All she could think about was those barrels that—when she’d allowed herself to think about—she’d assumed contained alcohol or guns or something. Not
lace
.

“Becks,” Mac began, but she didn’t want to hear him defend his precious choice of professions.

Instead she rounded on her mother. “Lace? That’s why you’re here?”

“Don’t be silly, Rebecca Beckett!” Her mother crossed her then, taking both of her shoulders in her hands and drawing her in for a hug. Becks resisted, still too angry to let herself be calmed. “We’re here for your wedding, of course.”

And in that moment, Becks realized that her mother had never intended this as a ruse. She’d been
actually
trying to marry her own daughter off to a smuggler she barely knew.

Becks drew back and stared into her mother’s brown eyes. The older woman was smiling faintly, and Becks knew Eugenia would never apologize, because she didn’t think she was doing anything wrong. So Becks straightened slowly and stepped out of her mother’s embrace. Trying to mimic Mac’s coldness, she kept her voice carefully neutral when she said, “I’m sorry, Mother. You’ve made the trip for nothing. Mr. Baird was just explaining to his brother that a mistake has been made.”

She turned stiffly to Mac and raised a brow to him, daring him to prove her wrong. He stared at her for a long moment, and she could swear that she saw hurt in those copper eyes. Hurt? Good. Perhaps he was as bothered by her coldness as she was by his apparent inability to stand up for her.

But finally he nodded and shrugged. Turning back to Holt, he made a show of nonchalance that didn’t fool her at all. “Becks is right. Maybe a mistake
was
made.”

He wasn’t supposed to
agree
with her.

Mac couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d punched her. As it was, Becks felt the air
woosh
out of her lungs as if he’d hit her with a fist, instead of with his words. She wanted to wrap her arms around her middle, to bend over, to let someone else take the weight from her. She wanted to cry. But she couldn’t. Instead, she bit the inside of her lip and pretended that she also thought the last few beautiful days with him had been a mistake.

She prayed he wouldn’t turn and see the lie.

Holt glanced between the two of them, though, and she watched his brows dip down, like Mac’s did when he was thinking. Finally, in that low voice of his, he said, “And I think you’re an idiot, little brother.”

Mac folded his arms defensively. “You heard the lady, Holt. A mistake.”

“I know what I heard, and I know what I see.” Ignoring his audience, Holt pointed one thick finger at his brother. “You may be reckless and irresponsible, but I don’t think you’re as foolish as you’re pretending to be right now. You know how to make this right.”

Becks felt Pearl’s arms around her shoulders, and she leaned into her sister’s embrace, feeling like the world was spinning away from her. Since stepping into this house she’d been nervous, bullied, angry beyond imagining, and now emptier than she had ever felt. She was exhausted, and nauseated, and wondered if she could squeeze her eyes shut and make this all go away.

“Holton.” Becks heard Eugenia speak up. “Everyone here deserves a chance at happiness.”

Becks risked a glance at Mac, and was relieved to see him apparently ignoring her. He stood, arms folded across his chest, staring at his brother expectantly. God help her, he was still too handsome by half.

Holt nodded. “You’re my brother, and I know you’re honorable, Mac.” They seemed to be speaking in a code only the two of them understood. Or at least, everyone but Becks understood. “Mistake or no, your choice was made.” Mac’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look her way,
thank God
. “Now you’ll follow it through, I hope?”

And when Mac nodded, Eugenia breathed a sigh of relief. Well, of course she’d know what the hell was going on, but Becks was surprised when Pearl gave her shoulders a little squeeze. Almost in sympathy. She turned to her sister, knowing that she wouldn’t have to ask the question.

Pearl squeezed again, and then pressed her cheek to Beck’s shoulder. Her whisper was so faint that Becks had trouble hearing it. “He’s going to marry you.” Why did she sound so forlorn? What was—?

Wait.
“Marry me?” She swung towards Mac then, and her sister turned as well. “You think that you can just snap your fingers—” She demonstrated. “And I’ll marry you?”

Mac ignored her. “Bennett? Is the Pastor still nearby?”

Becks had forgotten the servant in her emotional upheaval, but the older man now stepped forward and said in his stately British accent, “I sent Timothy for the Reverend Pitt right after you arrived.” He seemed smug, and no one asked him how he’d known.

Then Mac was crossing to her, and she felt Pearl’s hands drop away as his fell on her shoulders. She tried not to melt into his warmth, tried to remind herself that she was free and in charge of her own future. It didn’t work. All she wanted, at that moment, was to feel his arms around her, telling her everything would be all right.

“Becks. Marry me?”

She had to close her eyes on tears, unable to stand that copper intensity. “No.” Her voice sounded choked even to her own ears. His fingers dug into her shoulders as he tightened his grip on her. She wondered if he was afraid of losing her.

“Marry me, Becks.” It wasn’t a question this time, and his voice was softer, more intense.

She forced herself to meet his gaze then. “I could never marry a man who doesn’t love and respect Beckett.”

He swallowed, but she refused to be swayed by what could almost be regret in those copper eyes. “You think I don’t?”

She almost snorted. Of course he didn’t love Beckett. If he’d respected her people in the first place, they wouldn’t have even met! “You don’t want to get married, remember? I was a mistake, remember?”

She heard his groan then, moments before he kissed her. It wasn’t a deep kiss or particularly passionate, but it gave her some of her backbone back. When he pulled away, she had the courage to look at him again.

“Do you love me, honey?”

Her eyes went wide at his casual question, and she searched his expression for mocking. Men didn’t ask that sort of thing, did they? “No!” She blurted out her lie, and then tried to ignore the way a certain light faded from his eyes.

He stood there a long moment, and she could swear that everyone else faded away, as they stared at one another. Becks held her breath, waiting for what would come next. Knowing somehow that whatever he said next would change her future.

Finally, he didn’t quite sigh, but he gave her shoulders another little squeeze. “It doesn’t matter, Becks.” Glancing over his shoulder at his brother, he clenched his jaw. “We have a
duty
.” The last word was practically spit out, and she ached for him.

He called no man master. He’d left home as little more than a boy to be in charge of his own fate. He hated being told what to do, and here was his older brother forcing him to marry a woman just because it was “honorable.” Her eyes filled with tears again, for him this time.

“No, Mac…” He pretended not to hear her whispered plea, but she saw his jaw tighten again. “Don’t make another mistake.” She tried not to sound as bitter as he had.