The Bargain

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The Bargain Page 3

by Jessica N. Lane


  He stood from the bed, and reached his hand out to help me do the same.

  I reached mine out to take it, but something... something that felt a lot like fear stopped me at the last second. “I'm sorry,” I said, my voice smaller than I'd ever heard it, and I brought my hand back down to join the other in my lap. My eyes remained on them as I said what I did next. “And I have to work Adam. I need the money.”

  “You already have it,” he said gesturing to the room full of elegant trappings.

  “No, you do,” I corrected.

  “Which is the same as you having it now that we're married. Lira, I want to take care of you. Let me.” And with a sad smile curving his lips in place of his usually sunny one, he leaned down, and kissed my forehead, his lips lingering against my skin. “I told you before that you don't have to do everything on your own anymore. You have me now, and someday I'll have you too. You'll be completely mine just like I've always been completely yours.”

  Chapter 7

  Humming softly I stared out the nursery window at the falling snow, the blazing fireplace at my back as I rocked Clara to sleep in the rocking chair made of gleaming caramel-colored wood Adam had brought home after conducting some business in the village earlier in the day.

  The house was still now: the tutors were gone, dinner had been eaten, the children bathed and put to bed, and the last I'd seen of Adam, he was quietly reading over a stack of papers on his desk in his office. All was still except my mind. It turned over and over what had happened that morning between Adam and me. Yesterday he'd offered me one scenario of what life with him would be like. One where I'd suffer though my heartbreak in silence knowing that he'd never love me back, and sucking it up for the sake of security for my brothers and sisters. I'd convinced myself -rather unconvincingly- that I could live with that.

  And this morning, he'd offered me a second scenario. One in which ours was a union built on love instead of obligation. Had he really pined for me just as long as I had for him? I wanted so badly to believe that what he'd said to me about his feelings were true, but how could it be? It was the stuff of those romance stories Mama used to love so much, and things like that... things like knights in shining armor and happily ever afters just couldn't exist out here in this harsh world of death, hunger, and air so cold it froze the air in your lungs. It was just too good to be true, therefore, it wasn't, or if it was, it wouldn't last. That was how it had always been. I'd loved the little injured lamb I'd nursed back to health as a child, and a wolf had come into the makeshift pen I made for her, and killed him. I'd loved my humble, happy life under the love and protection of my parents, and They'd both been ripped away from me, and now, I had a chance to be happy once more with Adam, but this time, I wouldn't take the bait. I I knew that it would only end in agony just like all the times before.

  “It's beautiful, isn't it?” A dulcet voice came from the doorway to the left of where I was sitting.

  I glanced over, and found Adam walking toward me. His dark hair was mussed in the front as if he'd run his fingers through it several times, and there was a tightness in his shoulders -a rigidity in the way he carried himself- that told me something was bothering him.

  “The snow? Yes, it is,” I answered. “You'll probably think me a touch mad for saying this since you it was the very thing that threatened to kill me just yesterday, but winter always has been my favorite season. This time of year is so enchanting; not everyone can see it though. Winter is a harsh sort of beauty.”

  “Like you,” Adam said with a half smirk to let me know he was mostly teasing.

  “Hey!” I complained on a laugh. “I'm not harsh.”

  Adam folded himself down to sit on the floor in front of me, but he was so tall that even with him sitting on the floor, the two of us were almost at the same eye level. “I beg to differ, Love. You sure cut me to the quick this morning.”

  I grimaced. “That wasn't what I meant to do at all. I just. Honestly, what you said scared me,” I admitted.

  The look in Adam's eyes softened. “I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I know you don't feel the same way for me as I do for you yet, but I just wanted you to know where I stand-”

  “It isn't that. Honestly, I feel the same way about you as you do about me. I have for a long time,” I confessed. After all, what was the point of keeping it a secret. I was going to spend the rest of my life with this man. Even if I wasn't as much of an open book as my mother had always told me I was, I doubted I'd be able to keep my feelings hidden for that long.

  “Then why are you fighting me on making our marriage more than just a bargain?”

  “Because I've learned from experience that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is. Every time I have something in my life that brings me happiness, it gets taken away from me.”

  “Your parents,” he deduced softly, eyes sympathetic.

  “Yeah,” I sighed.

  “That's not going to happen with us, Lira. I'd like to see anything, even death, try to take me away from you. Look, you don't have to decide anything tonight; just promise me you'll try. Promise me you won't build walls to keep me away. Promise me that you'll give us a chance to be happy the way I know we can be together.”

  I hesitated. Could I really do that? Could I actually throw caution to the wind, and give my heart to this man fully who'd offered me his in return even though he could break it, even though tragedy could strike at any moment, and extinguish the light of our happiness, even though this all seemed way too good to be true? Yes. I could. The answer came to me as clearly as if it had been spoken in my ear. I could simply because there was no way I could not. There was no way I couldn't take this chance at love, and happiness, and not wind up regretting it for the rest of my days. “Okay. I promise,” I said with a soft smile curving my lips.

  Clara cooed in my arms, and I leaned down to kiss her on the nose, resuming humming the tuneless melody that never failed to lull her to sleep.

  “May I hold her?” Adam asked hesitantly.

  I fluidly transferred the two-year-old in my arms to his, and watched as Clara blinked up at Adam curiously. Adam stared down at her with an adoring smile on his face, and it was obvious that my darling, baby sister had enchanted him the way she did all who met her.

  “You're a natural,” I complimented. “She's small for her age, but Clara will be three in the summer. Though I'm sure she'll catch up to the others soon enough with all the delicious food she's eating regularly now. Pretty soon, she'll outgrow that little bassinet altogether.”

  “We'll have to get her a bed of her own then. Why don't we all head into town tomorrow as a family. The children don't have their lessons again until the day after.

  I nodded, liking the way that sounded.

  As a family.

  Chapter 8

  The stares were more blatant than I'd imagined they'd be, the whispers even louder, and I was currently in the process of sending a silent prayer of thanks up to God for the fact that the children seemed to be too distracted by all that was happening around them to notice. Ours was a small village, so maybe I shouldn't have been as surprised as I was that news of my marriage to Adam had already traveled far and wide. However, I was surprised with the... creativity of some of our fellow villagers when it came to them coming up with reasons why Adam had married me.

  “Well, I heard he owed her father a favor.”

  “Nah. She must be pregnant.”

  “She was over there at that fine house of his every day. Wouldn't surprise me.”

  “Why else would a man like Mr. Marshall saddle himself with a woman who's barely more than a girl, and has five little ones hanging off of her already.”

  And though mother would roll over in her grave if she knew, I turned to look at the pair of women gossiping rather loudly to my left with the stoniest glare I could muster before rolling my eyes at them in a very unladylike manner. Considering the circumstances though, I'd say my actions were more than justified.

/>   “Ignore them. I do,” Adam murmured into my ear as we continued on our way, Clara -bundled in her new winter clothing like the rest of us- perched in one of his arms while the other was wound around my waist, and resting on my hip. “They talk about you because you're interesting, and they're boring. If anything, they are in need of your pity more than they are your scorn.”

  I giggled. “You're right,” I said with a smile, taking Sammy's hand in mine to steer him away from a booth selling quilts. As Christmas approached, the village square was packed with more and more vendors, and the children were thoroughly captivated by everything they saw. “Stay together,” I warned Amelia and the twins for the third time in as many minutes.

  “I've got them,” Peter volunteered, walking forward to take Amelia and Josh's hands in each of his, and towing them back in line with the rest of us without them even realizing it.

  We'd already picked out Clara's new bed from the furniture store, and set it to be delivered to the house that afternoon. Since we were already there, and had time to kill, we decided to take in the sights. The village was never more beautiful than it was at Christmas time. Vendors who'd been hard at work making everything from clocks to cloaks to all manner of soaps and perfumes all year long brought their traveling stalls into the village square, and set up shop for a few days before moving on. Anything the children or I so much as glanced at was bought before I could so much as protest, and carried back to the carriage.

  “You'll spoil them,” I admonished after he bought Amelia a pair of white ribbons trimmed with gold thread.

  Adam shrugged. “What are children for?”

  I opened my mouth to protest, and was silenced by a kiss.

  My face flushed automatically. “Adam!” I protested, looking around to the scandalized faces of the village women.

  He chuckled. “Relax. If it makes you feel better, I won't make a habit of it.”

  “Which one? Spoiling the children rotten, or causing more gossip about us by kissing me in public?”

  “Definitely the first one. I plan on doing a whole lot more of the second one in the foreseeable future in private and public.” The blush in my cheeks deepened further. “Let people talk all they like. It doesn't change the fact that you're my wife, I love you, I could never kiss you enough, hold you, talk to you, just be with you enough for my tastes. I am madly in love with my wife, and I don't give a damn who knows it.”

  And this time, when he leaned in to kiss me, there wasn't even a hint of a protest on my lips.

  The softly-falling snow, and the golden sunlight that made the icy powder that covered the ground and every stable surface sparkle like glitter made our surroundings appear magical. Glancing up at my husband, I noticed that despite the beautiful atmosphere, and all the gleeful commotion going on around us, his gaze was fixated on me, a soft look in his storm-gray eyes. He looked at me like there was nothing else he wanted to see; and as I stared back at him, I knew the feeling.

  Chapter 9

  “Hmmm, whatever that is, it smells divine,” I told Adam. We'd picked up a chicken dinner from the tavern in town, and eaten it on the way home. The children had gotten changed into more comfortable clothing, and come back downstairs just as Mr. Andrews -the gentleman who owned the furniture shop in the village- tipped his hat at us in farewell after setting up Clara's bed in the nursery.

  I sat in a chair in the kitchen knitting new scarves for the twins, and watching through the doorway as Clara toddled along after Joshua as he darted around the living room. Amelia sat reading in the chair by the fire. Sammy was asleep on the couch, and Peter -brooding as usual- had draped himself in the window seat. Ever the protector, his sharp, onyx eyes scanned the room every now and again, keeping his siblings under his watchful gaze. Adam stood at the wood-burning stove adding milk, sugar, and cinnamon to something bubbling in a small pot that smelled heavenly.

  “A winter treat my mother used to make for me and my brothers when we were boys. She called it hot chocolate. He then retrieved seven mugs from the cabinet. I absently noted that they all matched, and were in pristine condition unlike the chipped and mismatched ones we had back home thanks to a series of hand-me-downs from neighbors who'd left the village, and wanted to travel as light as possible.

  Steam wafted up from the mugs as Adam poured even amounts of the liquid deliciousness into each og them. He then turned, and produced seven small plates from the cabinet, and as if I could read his mind, I brought the glass jar of ginger cookies I'd baked yesterday over, and placed three on each plate. I was just about to replace the lid on the jar when Adam snaked his hand out, and swiped another cookie.

  “Adam!” I chastised on a giggle, swatting his shoulder in teasing reprimand.

  He just chuckled in response as he shoved the entire cookie into his mouth, and pulled me close to drop a kiss against my lips. Glancing up, I noticed that Peter's eyes were now on the two of us, but instead of the hostility I'd become used to seeing on his face whenever he regarded Adam, there was now... a contemplative look there. I gestured for my little brother to come into the kitchen, and he helped us carry the cookies and hot chocolate into the living room. I sat on the floor with Clara, helping her eat her snack while I listened with the children to Adam tell a story about a peasant girl who fell in love with a prince who was cursed with the body of a polar bear.

  “The prince promised to take care of the peasant girl for the rest of their lives as long as she agreed to become his wife. You see, the bear prince had loved the peasant girl more than he ever imagined he could love anything from the very first moment he saw her walking through the village square.”

  “And did she love him in return?” Amelia asked dreamily, hanging on every word of the fanciful love story.

  I wasn't blind to the similarities between the tale Adam was telling and our own unconventional love story, and feared my dusky-brown cheeks would be permanently stained red from all the blushing I was doing over the way he described the bear prince's love and devotion for the peasant girl. It was clear to anyone listening that he was adding to the story, making certain that I knew it wasn't just the bear prince's love and devotion he was speaking of, but his as well. How had I not noticed this amazing man pining for me from afar all this time?

  “Not at first,” Adam answered my sister. “See, the bear was afraid of the peasant girl rejecting him, and kept her at arm's length. He had been alone for such a long time that he didn't know how to be close to someone else. But once he showed her his heart, she found the truth of her love for him in hers as well.”

  “And what of the curse?” Sammy asked, pale-brown eyes wide with interest. It was the longest I'd seen him sit still all his life.

  “Their love was strong enough to break it.” Adam's words were for Sammy, but his eyes were focused intently on me.

  There was a message in his words meant for my ears only. Not only did he speak of the cursed placed on the bear prince by an evil fairy, but of the curse of sorts that I felt tainted my own life, that little voice in the back of my head that saw fit to constantly remind me that all good things come to an end eventually, that insidious thief that snuffed out every tiny bit of happiness meant for me.

  The fear was at he back of my mind that the same thing would happen now, because I couldn't remember a time when I was even close to being this happy. And though I'd long-since stopped believing in fairy tales, I sent up a silent prayer that my husband was right about the effect love could have on curses if it was only strong enough, and vowed to myself that I would love him with everything in me from that moment on for good measure.

  Chapter 10

  The sight of the snow falling back-lit by the periwinkle light of dawn outside the expansive bedroom window told me that it was cold outside, but as I lay there watching it, I remained toasty warm. It had nothing to do with the crackling fire in the fireplace made of dark stones in the far corner of the room, or the blankets made of silks, velvets, and furs that swaddled me.

&nbs
p; It was because of the man who'd wound his naked body around my own as if he couldn't get close enough to me even in sleep. The man who'd made love to me so tenderly the night before, and fallen asleep whispering heartbreakingly-sweet things into my ear. The man whose heart currently beat in time with mine, and whose warm breath tickled the back of my neck. The man that cared for the children that had become mine as if they were his as well, treating them as blessings rather tan burdens like I'd feared. The man who -by some miracle- loved me just as much as I loved him, ad looked at me as if I was some kind of treasure. The man fate had somehow guided me to.

  Adam Marshall.

  I rolled over in his arms, and was surprised to find him already awake. “Good morning,” I murmured, a slow smile curving my lips.

  “Morning, my beautiful wife,” he greeted me in a sleep-roughened voice. “How did you sleep?” I grimaced slightly at Adam's words before I could stop myself, and even though I schooled my features a second later, his sharp eyes missed nothing. “What was that for?”

  “Oh, it's nothing,” I said automatically. I was so used to keeping my problems -no matter how big or small they might be- to myself. There was hardly any use in complaining about things I could do nothing about. Come to think of it, I couldn't even remember the last time I'd focused on my own troubles. There was literally always something else that required my attention more.

  Adam gave me a skeptical look that let me know he didn't believe me. “You promised me you'd try to make this marriage more than just a bargain, Lira. That includes letting me in.”

  I sighed, realizing he was right. “It's just that... well, you don't have to do that, you know.”

 

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