Renegade (7 page)

She glanced down at herself, and decided that although her blouse was rumpled and her hair was coming out of its bun, she was probably respectable enough to greet her mother’s visitor, and then head upstairs for a rest. There was more to do today, of course, but she could afford an hour’s nap. The weeds in the vegetable patch could wait until this afternoon, and those spring greens she’d promised Lola would still be there in a few hours.

She sighed and smiled slightly. There was always more to do, but she’d do it gladly, because this was her home. Her life.

She didn’t
have
to marry. She could spend the rest of her life here on Beckett if she wanted, caring for Seelay and her siblings, and being cared for by Lola and Moses. And when it came time to worry about who’d care for Beckett after she was gone… why, she could just bear a child without the benefit of marriage. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? Women did it all the time. Of course, even knowing what kind of women did that sort of thing wasn’t too much of a detriment either. Grandmama’s “society” would have conniptions, but Eugenia would laugh herself stupid at the idea. Her mother had always been eccentric, and Becks knew she loved her daughter enough to support her decision to stay on Beckett, no matter the cost. Eugenia understood what it was like to be tied to the land. No, Becks didn’t have to marry.

If Creel really was courting her, why, she could just wait until he proposed, and then turn him down. For Eugenia’s sake, she’d try to do it gently, but for Pearl’s sake, she wanted to do it with a boot to his rear. The man really was a bother.

God willing, his duties would take him off-island, and she wouldn’t have to see him for a while. Perhaps his next visit would be the time she finally would have to tell him that she wasn’t going to marry. She’d hadn’t yet met a man who was worth leaving Beckett.

“So tell me, boy.” Eugenia crossed one booted, bloomer’d leg over the other, completely at ease. “Do you know Major Creel?”

Mac shifted forward to place the delicate china teacup on the table in front of him, hoping to hide his distaste. He wished Eugenia had served the tea iced, like his brother did, rather than in these tiny bits of porcelain fluff that he could crush by sneezing. He kept his expression neutral and focused on the cup, so that she wouldn’t know his hidden grimace was in response to her question. “Only what you’ve told me of him, ma’am.”

“But you’ve never met him?”

Mac had known Eugenia Middleton from the time he was a little boy, although not well. His mother had known her through a cousin, and they’d been close when they were younger. He’d been first introduced to her twenty years ago, but hadn’t seen her again until her mother’s funeral in ’72. He’d been surprised by how… eccentric she’d become. She sat in her parlor in her typical costume of old-fashioned Health Bloomers tucked into men’s riding boots, and her light hair cropped short. She would never be considered a beauty and so, in her later years, had apparently cultivated a devil-may-care attitude.

But no matter how outrageous she appeared, that connection with his mother meant that Mac felt guilt lying to her. Instead, he raised one brow in what he hope was nonchalance, and said merely, “What makes you ask?”

Her slight smile told him she knew he was avoiding the question, but was willing to allow him his pretext. Waving her hand dismissively, she picked up her own tea cup. “Oh, I was just wondering. Recently he asked me who
else
was courting my daughter.”

She paused for a moment, as if to allow him to confess, and her brown eyes narrowed slightly in irritation when he didn’t. “Of course, it was news to
us
that Major Creel was courting Rebecca Beckett, since that was the first he’d mentioned it to
me.
But apparently he is now.” Her lips pursed slightly as if she’d tasted something sour. “And he wants to know who he’ll need to contend with.”

Mac crossed his ankles and leaned back on the settee as if slightly bored by her tale. She didn’t look like she bought it.

“I merely ask, McKee, because he’s claiming that he met one of Rebecca Beckett’s
other
suitors here on Beckett land right around the time you visited last.” She took a sip, her shrewd eyes never leaving his. “Of course, I told him that he was mistaken, but he insinuated that this…beau of hers kissed her.” A pause. “In front of him.” A longer pause. “And then refused to tell him his name.”

Two pairs of eyes locked. Mac had never met a woman he couldn’t bully if he needed to. Eugenia, though, was a different animal. She raised one brow and met his gaze with the intensity born of righteousness. She wasn’t a lady to intimidate easily. Come to think of it, her daughter hadn’t been either.

That daughter hadn’t been far from his mind since that night in Nassau when they’d discussed the future of their business. They’d landed last night, and Eugenia had been waiting for them. He wasn’t sure how she’d always known when they were on their way in, but she was usually seated on one of the rockers on the back veranda, smoking her pipe beside the beacon of the lit lamp. Last night had been no different, but after they’d transferred the barrels to her storeroom as usual, she’d invited them to stay the night. “Some things to discuss,” was all she’d said as she’d led them towards the guest room.

The offer was a first, and so was Mac’s acceptance. He still wasn’t sure why he’d agreed, other than to have a chance to discuss their future plans with Eugenia. Robert kept watch at the storeroom for the remainder of the night, and had fallen gratefully into the bed when Mac vacated it, which left Mac alone to be grilled by Eugenia. About her daughter, apparently.

He narrowed his eyes at the older lady, and managed to hide his scowl at the way her chin just lifted higher. Lord, she was stubborn. But then, why was Mac bothering to lie to her? She was just as practical as he was about their partnership. She’d understand, surely?

It was a risk, to admit the truth to her. To admit that he’d kissed her daughter. He honestly didn’t know enough about this old friend of his mother’s to know how she’d react. Maybe her daughter was the one line he shouldn’t have crossed with her.

But on the other hand, she’d given him no reason
not
to tell her. She’d always been open with him, and their partnership worked well. And she was staring him down now, like he was an errant child. She knew he was hiding something.

So he smiled slightly and folded his arms across his chest. “I didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell him who I was. That could’ve been…
difficult
.”

She exhaled then, and broke eye contact with him to take another sip of the tea. She placed it on the table between them, and he couldn’t help but admire how carefully blank she managed to keep her expression. He had no idea what she was thinking.

Eugenia smoothed her palms across her thighs, as if straightening the material, and took a deep breath. Then, back rigid, she met his eyes once more. “Well, McKee,” she began. He didn’t like the way she could make him feel like a child, as if she had any sort of authority over him. He didn’t think she did it on purpose; she just was used to being in charge of her own life.

So he returned the attitude, squeezing his biceps in an effort to remind himself that
he
was in control of his future.
Call no man master
. “Yes, Eugenia?”

“You’ve been kissing my daughter?”

“Once. I did it to hide why I was here. It’s not like it’s a habit.”

“Hmmm.” That was all she said:
Hmmm
. He resisted the urge to squirm in his seat under her sharp gaze. Then, to his surprise, she smiled brightly.

“Well, that certainly was inspired. If I’d known, I would have happily continued the charade. Unfortunately, I told him I knew nothing about Rebecca Beckett’s other suitors, which will sound odd when he finds out that you’re here now.”

Mac’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no need for him to find out that we’re here now.”

And damned if her smile didn’t seem smug when she told him, “I’m sure he already knows. We’re not isolated here, McKee.
Someone’s
already mentioned to
someone
that there’s a strange dinghy docked at Beckett for more than a tide, and that the
Polaris
is moored off of Peter’s Point.”

Oh Goddammit. She was right. Up until now, they’d kept their visits to Edisto short, no more than one tide cycle and always at night. Mac resisted the urge to sigh in frustration, and just squeezed his biceps harder. It didn’t help.

“You knew.” And dammit, but he should have known, too, that this would happen when she invited them to spend the night. Why hadn’t he thought of it?

“Of course I knew, boy.” Mac didn’t quite growl at her flippancy, but it was close. “Why do you think I suggested you stay?” He had no idea. Why put them all—their enterprise—in danger? “I needed Creel to think that you were a suitor. He’s been back often in the last few months, but not just to court Rebecca Beckett. He’s been talking to our people and the people over on The Neck, asking about strange men and illicit activities.”

Mac cursed under his breath, and she nodded. “Exactly. Your lie and my daughter’s silence didn’t have quite the effect you wanted.” Becks hadn’t told Creel the truth about him? Mac was surprised and vaguely gratified. “Creel suspects that there’s more going on here at Beckett, especially since you haven’t been back. None of our people have said anything—to my knowledge—but it’s only a matter of time before someone does. You being here now lends credence to the claim that you’re courting Rebecca Beckett.”

“How long have you been planning this ambush, Eugenia?”

She
tsk
ed and leaned forward to lift her teacup and saucer once more. “Not so much an ambush, boy, as saving both of our necks.”

“How long?”

“Since Creel asked me about you. Or rather, about Rebecca Beckett’s other suitors, and I knew it had to be you. After all, she was crabbing down in her usual spot the last time y’all came ashore there. She didn’t mention meeting anyone, but it was a good bet.”

Mac scowled. It sounded like she’d set him up in more ways than one if she’d known Becks would be there that night.

Eugenia continued, nonchalantly. “It was a charade, wasn’t it?” His train of thought was derailed. “I don’t suppose you really
were
courting my daughter, were you?”

He sat up then, placing a hand on each knee, and leaned towards her slightly. He might have been properly dressed for tea in a plantation home—he always kept a suit on the
Polaris
, just in case—but he knew that he in no way fit in here. He’d become too rough, too dismissive of the frippery and elegance the rest of the South valued. “And would you have considered me, if I was?”

She smiled then, and Mac was suddenly struck with the desire to see Becks smile like that. Openly. Freely. “I would be thrilled, McKee. You’ve become a fine man, fit to court Rebecca Beckett or any other young lady.”

He couldn’t help it; he laughed then. Loud, and scornful, and her expression didn’t change at all. She just sat there with a faintly knowing grin on her face, like she was proud of him for doing what she wanted. What she expected. He
hated
feeling manipulated.

“You’re wrong.” Maybe his words were harsher than he’d intended, but he wanted her to see, to understand. “Young ladies have no interest in me.” Not
entirely
true, he had to admit to himself, remembering a few memorable evenings. “And I have less interest in them.” Also, not true. He’d thought of Becks a lot since Nassau. “I value my freedom too much to ever court a woman, Eugenia. Remember that. Marriage is not for me.”

She regarded him over the lip of her teacup and then nodded slightly, once. She opened her mouth, but Mac never got to hear what she had to say, because at that moment the door to the foyer opened a crack, and
she
peeked in.

“Mother, I’m sorry…for…” She trailed off when her eyes met his, and Mac had to stop himself from bowing slightly, and when exactly had he stood up? Apparently his mother’s manners hadn’t been beaten out of him.

Becks had pushed her way into the room, but now rocked to a stop a few paces in. He wondered who she’d been expecting… it certainly hadn’t been him. The confusion in her eyes proved that. Those fascinating blue orbs bored into his, and he wondered what she thought, seeing him again.