His eyebrows drew over his eyes and muscles ticked along his jaw. Tension, which had been absent previously now hovered over the table.
She thought on his words. No, there was no need to offer marriage for a blacksmith. There was one when a woman in her position found herself betrothed to a scoundrel on account of her brother’s lack of honor!
“That is true.” She moistened her lips which had gone dry. Should she tell Mr. Clayborne the true reason she put the ad in the Groom’s Gazette?
No, don’t do it, some inner part of herself ordered. If she did, he’d hightail it so fast out of Silverpines she wouldn’t see his spurs for the dust.
“So why did you send for a husband?”
A prick of guilt stabbed her chest but she pressed on with part of the narrative she planned to tell him.
“My brother is gone, Mr. Clayborne. He has been my guardian and protector since my parents died.” She caught the questioning look in his eyes. “My mother died from cholera when I was a child. I wasn’t allowed to see her due to the dangers of infection. My father died several years later due to stomach complications.”
No need to tell the man her father had drank and gambled himself into an early grave.
“So your brother became the head of the house.”
Elena’s lips twisted in irony. “Head of the house? I suppose you could say that. My brother did his best, I suppose.”
But it wasn’t enough.
Her cheeks flushed in shame. Bo was cold in the ground, unable to answer the accusations she more than once wanted to hurl at him.
“My brother’s forge is available for you to make an income. Before the earthquakes, my brother did a lot of work for the miners and the loggers. Making new tools, repairing their old ones, and things of that nature. Ranchers in Astoria and the surrounding areas came to him as well.
“We’re trying to rebuild Silverpines to what it used to be and we need the help of the men we send for to get it there. My brother performed all the manual labor but I kept the records up to date and accurate. It was one of the few things my mother would allow me to do.”
“I see,” Mr. Clayborne said enigmatically.
“If you’d like, I can do the same for you as well.”
A silky eyebrow arched over his right eye. “Wouldn’t you be uncomfortable in the smithy?”
Elena allowed a small smile. “Perhaps, but I’m needed there nonetheless.”
He pursed his lips. “I see no reason to alter that arrangement. Is the forge fired now?”
She nodded. “Sarah Gillam, I mean, Mrs. Dekkum’s husband, Mason, is using it temporarily. He’s a gunsmith and they will be building their own forge.”
“Interesting. Tell me, Miss Somersville, why only a marriage of convenience?”
“I have my reasons, Mr. Clayborne. Our acquaintance is new. Wouldn’t it be presumptuous in being so forthright?”
He leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps.”
“Yet, I would know something of you. What is your Christian name?”
“My name is Tobias Daniel Clayborne. I am twenty-five years old. My parents are both dead. I have no family, save an aunt I haven’t seen in a few years although we corresponded regularly through the post. I’ve been a blacksmith since my uncle taught me the trade.”
The fact he corresponded with his aunt on a regular basis showed her he had some concern for the woman.
“How old is your aunt?”
Tobias, she liked the sound of his name, gave her another surprising grin.
“My aunt Patricia would never reveal that to me. I know she’s upwards of seventy but she looks closer to fifty. She’s healthy.”
His aunt sounded like a formidable woman although Tobias had not chosen to elucidate on his aunt’s disposition.
“Will you be seeking approval from her regarding our nuptials?”
“No.”
That was all he said. No, she didn’t suppose a man like him would ever seek approval from anyone about anything he did. Elena couldn’t determine whether it was a trait a man of honor should have.
“And your reason for agreeing to this marriage?”
Tobias held her gaze once more. “Let’s suppose for a moment that I’m on a mission. A mission that could only be carried out here. And in order to do that, I need the…influence a wife, such as yourself, would give me.”
Influence? The idea sounded strange to her. No one in her family had ever considered Elena important enough to be of help. She was her father’s second child, her mother’s daughter, her brother’s responsibility.
The idea of anyone needing her struck Elena in an odd way. She didn’t know what to make of it. Though she knew there was more to Tobias’ motivations than what he said, she allowed him to keep his secret.
He gave her the same courtesy.
“How old are you, Miss Somersville?”
“I’ll be nineteen in a month’s time.”
“For a moment, you didn’t look any older than twelve years.”
Elena cleared her throat. “In our correspondence, we stated we would marry each other, Mr. Clayborne. Now that we’ve had our little talk, do you still intend to?”
He pursed his lips. “I’ll have to sleep on it and let you know.”
Elena started. She hadn’t expected this at all. A strange panic assaulted her senses.
“Is there any particular thing you’d like to discuss? Have I given you cause to doubt this marriage?”
“No, Miss Somersville. It’s not that. Just that, to be honest, you’ve given me much to think about. I’m a man who doesn’t like to rush into things. I like to consider an idea from all sides. An offshoot of being a blacksmith, I’d say.”
For some unknown reason, she wanted, no, needed Tobias Clayborne to accept her offer of marriage. And not just because she felt he would be able to protect her from the clutches of Mace.
She didn’t want to put another ad in the Groom’s Gazette in search of another mail-order husband. Why should this be the case? She didn’t know.
“Very well. I look forward to your answer tomorrow.”
Dear God, he had to say yes!
Tobias found a small comfort in the maelstrom of emotions that assailed him as he lay in the clean bed in the room he’d procured for his stay. Elena Somersville would never be the kind to marry a man like Mace Thorne.
He turned over and stared out at the shadows of the trees as they stretched across the interior of his room. Ever since he met Elena, all his plans had been thrown into chaos.
Just like a woman!
He felt stirrings inside of his heart that he knew were dangerous. They’d met today and yet, during the conversation, he felt a closeness to her that he did not want. He saw the vulnerability in her eyes, saw the delicateness of her features, and something overwhelmingly protective rose in him.
Tobias jerked upright from his bed and pushed the covers off. Thrusting his hands through his hair, he went over to the window and gazed out at the night.
Moonlit devastation. Rubble still littered the town streets. Pieces of buildings lay strewn about. Logs, washed up from the mudslide, blocked the area. It would take a lot to rebuild this town but its inhabitants were unlike anyone he’d ever known.
When they finished their discussion for the time being, Miss Somersville, along with Mrs. Edmondson, took him to view the forge. They met the gunsmith, Mason Dekkum and had a chance to go over particulars with him. With approval, Tobias noted the smithy was well stocked with extra wood and the charcoal bin was full.
After which, Miss Somersville took him on a tour of the town. At least what was left of it. They met the mercantile owner, Millie Messer with a passel of mischievous but good-hearted children, four in all. The woman wore a pinched, harassed expression on her face and he wondered if maybe he could help her in the store at some point while he was here.
Then they ran into the local doctor, a woman by the name of Hattie Richards. It didn’t take much guessing to know she w
as of mixed blood, white and Indian. A beautiful woman who greeted him in a cool, dispassionate way and then hurried on to the next sick or injured person who needed her help.
They met the marshal again but this time he was strolling along the walk with his wife. The women visited for a moment, clearly animated about something although he didn’t quite catch what it was. He stole a glance at the marshal who stared at his wife with something close to adoration.
It was a look he’d seen often in his father’s eyes as he gazed with frustrated love at his mother. On his father, his adoration reminded him of a lost dog, looking for his own. The marshal could never look like that. He didn’t give the impression that he would be led by the nose. He was a man one instantly knew you could trust to do the right thing.
Was he doing the right thing by being here?
Tobias turned away from the scenery and went back to his bed.
His resolve had been clear: go to Silverpines, find Mrs. Mace Thorne, kidnap her and then lure Mace to his death.
In the space of a day, he was thinking about really becoming a part of this community.
And he knew why. It was because he laid his eyes on Elena Somersville.
Tobias reached under his night clothes and grabbed the bottle of laudanum. He could not allow these feelings, whatever they were, to blossom simply because he’d been held captive by the beauty of her.
But…if he didn’t accept this marriage, then Miss Somersville would have to accept another man.
Tobias’s stomach lurched. The idea of another man accepting Miss Somersville’s marriage of convenience raised all kinds of conniptions in his mind.
And in that moment, he knew what his answer would be tomorrow when he met up with her again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Four days later, they were married.
Despite all of Tobias’s misgivings, his mistrust, nothing gave him as much satisfaction as hearing the minister say, “I now pronounce you man and wife.”
He’d taken one look at Elena Somersville, now, Clayborne and knew that for better or for worse, they were in this marriage for the duration.
“I’m so happy for the both of you,” Mrs. Edmondson cried out. Great big tears trailed unashamedly down her cheeks. “Who would have guessed?”
Tobias wondered the same thing. When Elena had come down the aisle of the church, his heart leapt at the sight of her in her bridal finery. The wedding gown was slightly old-fashioned with three rows of satin ribbons down the middle, the right and the left of her dress. A high neckline framed her throat while the tapered waist showed a feminine form of shapely proportions but still managing to keep her appropriately demur.
“Congratulations, Mr. Clayborne,” Laura Winters, owner of the horse breeding ranch, White Oaks said while she stood next to her husband, Max. “All the happiness,” Max Winters added.
“Thank you.” Tobias accepted their good wishes while inside, a tiny seed of doubt sprung a root.
Would he be happy with this convenient wife? Over the past four days, it was a question that came to him more often than not. He only had to remember how his father had been treated by his mother to make him wish he’d never agreed to be Elena’s husband.
And then, each time that thought came to mind, a dark thing whispered in his ear, “She’ll have to belong to another man.”
Tobias knew he’d rather be slathered in honey and chased by a bear than allow another man to have even the opportunity to lay claim to this woman.
This woman…who was now his wife…in name only.
“Beautiful ceremony,” another well-wisher said. It was the mercantile owner, Millie Messer. She carried one child on her hip while the other three rushed about in the small church.
“Thank you, Mrs. Messer,” he told her.
“Not for long,” she murmured. The words were spoken low but he still heard them anyway.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked her.
Mrs. Messer gave him a tight smile. “Nothing, Mr. Clayborne. Just speaking my thoughts out loud. Every happiness to you and Elena.”
“Thank you again.”
More people came to congratulate them until the line died out. They had decided that instead of having a large reception, he and Elena would pack a basket and spend the rest of the day in each other’s company.
It was a plan he thoroughly agreed upon.
“Tobias?”
His name never sounded so good until Elena called him. Did angels sound like she did?
“Yes, Elena?”
“Are you ready?”
An odd note of panic struck him. It was worse than train travel which absolutely terrified him. He was married now to a woman. Would she be anything like his mother? Would he succumb to her like his father?
She looked up at him expectantly, her wide, dark eyes heavily fringed by thick lashes. Her hair had been brushed until gleaming and then curled until the fat, sausage rings lay on her delicate shoulders.
Her mouth—
Tobias tore his gaze away. They had talked to the preacher before the ceremony and requested to leave out the part that said, “You may now kiss the bride.” After all, Tobias had rationalized, physicality of any kind had no bearing on their relationship.
At least that’s what he thought then.
But the moment the ceremony was concluded, he’d seesawed between keeping his distance and wanting to drag her into his arms.
“Yes,” he croaked out of a dry throat. He cleared and then tried again. “Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go see if Mrs. Donlinson finished with the basket.”
“All right,” Elena said, gifting him with a beautiful smile that showed off her wide, deep dimples.
She looked enchanting…and he was enchanted.
He frowned, upset at the absurd directions of his thoughts.
They left the church but not before they were doused by a smattering of rice and well-wishers as soon as they opened the door.
Elena laughed. “Fannie Pearl!”
“Is she the one who planned this, you think?”
“Of course. She’s a sly one, she is.”
Tobias’s gaze darted around until it landed on the instigator. Her face looked as innocent as a cat with a feather sticking out of its mouth.
“Kiss her! Kiss her!” The old woman suddenly chanted.
The smile dropped from his face, replaced by a burgeoning excitement he couldn’t contain.
“Kiss her! Kiss her!” the crowd around them took up the chant, smiles all around.
Did they have any idea what they were asking of him?
From the knowing look in Mrs. Edmondson’s eyes, that was a yes.
Their cries got louder, deafening almost. “Kiss her! Kiss her!”
Tobias’s heart thudded in his chest as he glanced down at his wife.
His wife.
His wife in name only.
Elena’s eyes stared deep into his own, unreadable and yet, not rejecting him either.
Sweat broke out over his palms. How could he kiss her when he’d never kissed a woman in his life? Well, maybe his aunt counted but only so far as kissing her on her powdered cheek.
He’d avoided entanglements with women for so long. He thought it would always be this way.
But four days ago, he met Elena Somersville and knew that despite his deeply held beliefs, he was willing to break them all for just one, single taste of her apple red mouth.
Just once. Surely that would be enough to satisfy him?
The crowd cheered as his arm came around her waist. He drew her closer, his breath coming out in short gasps. A wonderful floral scent emanated from her person. It made his head spin.
The cheers of the crowd faded into the background. All that existed in the world was the woman in his arms.
Her eyes had widened and then slowly, oh so slowly, they narrowed until they were mere slits. Her thick lashes fanned out over the arcs of her high cheekbones. Her lips parted and her sweet-smelling breath blew across his face.
He touched a finger to the cleft in her chin and raised her head so he could fit his mouth to hers.
Stars exploded on his brain. Her lips were pillow soft, but still firm and warm. He trembled as he pressed his own lips just a tad bit harder against hers.
Tobias had thought he was above all the other men of the world who were held captive by a woman’s touch. He thought himself superior to them because he always resisted the wild dictates of his body and never succumbed like other men had.
But with this, his first kiss, his long-held notions teetered off the pedestal he placed them on and crashed into a million pieces.
Elena trembled against him. Or maybe he was the one reacting so violently. He drew away and opened his eyes.
A delicate rosy flush cascaded over her cheeks. Her lips looked plumper and her eyes carried a dewy sheen to them.
She looked beautiful. Irresistible.
But he had to resist. Once was enough. He loosened his hold on her.
Why did that make him feel so empty?
Elena should not have allowed him to kiss her.
With the press of his lips against her mouth, she found herself split into two very different people.
Elena Somersville, the daughter of an heiress and a drunkard who knew men could not be trusted.
Mrs. Tobias Clayborne, the wife of a man who made her wonder if Elena Somersville ever really knew anything about men.
A knock on the door brought her head up from the contemplation of the floor in her bedroom. She and Tobias had spent the day together as planned, picnicking in a shady grove under the arms of a large oak tree. Surprisingly, it hadn’t rained all day so they were able to enjoy the companionship of each other and the outdoors.
When they arrived back to the house, she kept up a calm façade as she gave him a tour of the house and showed him to the room where he’d be sleeping.
Then she hid in her room with the intent of not coming out until dawn.
But now, her husband sought entry into her private chambers.
She stood, gulping in air as nerves attacked her sensibilities. After all, they were married. She was his wife, his property. If he chose to—
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