In addition, when she pictured the father of her mist-shrouded future children, it was not Hayden Atherton who stood at the cradle, gazing fondly into it.
The man was Jamie Mackenzie, who at present was resting against the piano while he watched his sister play. Jamie would lift his son or daughter, holding the babe carefully, the love in his eyes the same that Evie saw now in Ian’s.
Jamie’s pose at the piano was casual, but Evie read his tension. She saw similar tension in Beth and Belle, the two now residing on a sofa, quietly talking together. The only one untroubled was Megan, who swayed a little with her playing, her face taking on the glow of one lost in beauty.
“We should ease their worry,” Evie whispered to Ian.
For a moment, Evie thought he did not know what she meant, then the smile flashed again, the Mackenzie roguishness shining through.
Lord Ian rose, assisted Evie from her chair, tucked her hand through his arm again, and led her back to the center of the room.
Jamie breathed easier when Evie returned with his father, the agitation in Evie’s eyes nearly gone. Jamie’s acquaintances, men and women alike, had frozen in fear of Ian Mackenzie, leaving his presence as fast as they could, using any excuse to go.
By contrast, Evie rested her hand on the crook of Ian’s elbow, a smile pulling at her lips. She and Ian might have been old friends stepping aside for a chat to catch up on things.
Ian’s gaze went straight to Beth, as usual. He took Evie’s hand and placed it on Jamie’s arm, then stepped to Beth and gathered her to his side.
“Supper,” he said. “Miss McKnight will be staying.”
Evie started, but she didn’t protest. She also did not remove her hand from Jamie’s arm.
“Indeed, you must,” Beth said to Evie. “I’ve told Curry to have a bedchamber prepared for you as well. It is late, and there is no need for you to squeeze into the little house in Chelsea.”
“Gavina will be disappointed,” Belle said. “But I’m happy to have my bed to myself again. I’ll go assure her that all is well.”
“After supper, miss,” Beth said sternly. “It’s not often I have all my ducks at home for a meal. We promise not to overwhelm you, Evie, dear.”
Beth gave her one of her warmest smiles then waltzed away, Ian’s arm around her. Ian leaned to Beth as they went out the door, pulling her closer as they walked.
“One of Mrs. Grafton’s suppers is not to be missed,” Belle informed Evie. “I promise, you will not regret it.” She hastened after her parents, gray skirt swinging.
Behind them, Megan continued to play. She became absorbed in the music, as usual, forgetting that anyone else was in the room.
Jamie rested his hand on Evie’s, her fingers warm. “My father can complete an interrogation without saying a word.”
Evie glanced up at him in surprise. “There was no interrogation. He is lovely.”
She hadn’t realized what had happened in that corner, then. Jamie also knew from Evie’s answer that Ian had been gentle because he’d wanted to be.
A glow spread in his heart. Ian was an excellent judge of character—Jamie had known his father would like Evie, as would his mother.
And why wouldn’t they? With her snapping blue eyes and ready laughter, anyone would be glad to have Evie in their home.
As Jamie was.
Megan’s voice floated across the room above the melody. “If you wish to kiss each other, do not mind me.”
Evie jumped. “Indeed, no—”
Jamie stopped her denial with his lips.
Under him, Evie went still. Jamie slid his hand behind her neck, coaxing her up to him, and brushed kisses to her lips, tender ones, demanding nothing.
Just when he thought she’d push him away, Evie responded, opening to him, making that delicious little sound in her throat.
Jamie tasted her sorrow, but also her passion, a need she’d kept buried for a long time. Perhaps she had done so because of her grief, but Jamie also sensed she’d locked it away where Atherton wouldn’t find it.
Now Atherton was gone, expunged from her life. Her passion flared, and Jamie touched it.
He knew Megan wasn’t watching them. She’d either be gazing at her fingers flying over the keys or staring off into space, going wherever the music took her, mere mortals unable to follow.
Jamie cupped Evie’s waist, his thumb sliding to skim her breast. Evie tugged him closer, which put his growing cockstand against her. She’d feel that through her thin skirt and his kilt, and Jamie wasn’t one bit ashamed.
Evie McKnight was beautiful, Jamie wanted her, and he’d do whatever it took to have her.
He was tempted to rush her upstairs to his bedchamber, high in the house and away from those of his sisters and parents. But Ian, Beth, and Belle would be waiting in the dining room, and Curry would find them, in that uncanny way of his. The man knew where everyone in the family was at all times.
Jamie eased from their kiss, though he kept Evie pressed to him. He touched her cheek, fingers in her silken hair.
“You are beautiful, lass.”
“Always ready with a compliment, Mackenzie.” Her voice was faint, cracked.
Jamie couldn’t stop his grin. “I’ll be making many of them, McKnight.”
He forced himself to release her, took her arm, and guided her from the room in search of supper.
Megan Mackenzie gazed blatantly after them. She hadn’t missed the kiss and how much desire it had contained, though she’d pretended to concentrate on the music.
Lovely to see Jamie captivated by a woman, and a sweet one at that. Belle had told Megan the tale in her cursory way—Belle thought the fewer words used about anything the better—but Megan had read that Evie was vivacious, kindhearted, and very interested in Jamie.
Megan hadn’t failed to note the way Evie’s gaze had rested on Jamie the entire time she’d been in this room, except for the brief interval with their father. When Ian had led Evie back to Jamie, Evie had smiled the moment her eyes met his.
Evie would do Jamie good, and Megan could cease worrying about him.
Whether anyone would ever show the same sort of devotion to the eccentric Mackenzie sisters was another matter. Megan sighed and went back to deciphering Alkin’s Les Quartre Ages.
She had her music. Belle had her studies of science and medicine. That should be enough, should it not?
Megan scowled at the piece, notes dancing before her eyes, quit the piano, and hurried to rejoin the warmth of her family.
Chapter 22
The supper was full of laughter, chatter, and wonderful food, all of which calmed Evie’s turmoil, or at least pushed it aside.
She did not argue that she’d already dined at Gavina’s—that meal seemed long ago and far away, and her hunger had returned with a vengeance. Likewise, Belle had no qualms about tucking into another supper.
The footmen served Evie first, at Beth’s direction, and seemed eager to offer her the best of everything. Evie sipped blissful soup, ate tender beef in a savory gravy, vegetables roasted to perfection, and buttery sauces that slid across the tongue.
She could eat as slowly or quickly as she pleased, as Beth did not adhere to the rigid rule that no one consumed a bite after the lady of the household laid down her eating utensils.