Alice: Bride of Rhode Island (American Mail-Order Bride 13)

by Kristy McCaffrey

  She and Mrs. Irwin left the private room where she’d dressed and came to the back of the church where the older woman handed Alice a bundle of flowers. Music began to play and fill Saint Anne’s, a French-Canadian parish in Fall River. It was the closest Catholic church to Tiverton. Mr. Irwin appeared and offered an arm to Alice; he would be giving her away.

  About two dozen guests had gathered in the pews, all strangers to Alice. To ease her discomfort at being watched so intently, she shifted her gaze to James standing at the altar, Frank beside him. He wore a dark tailcoat atop a matching waistcoat and trousers, his white undershirt offset by a black paisley ascot tie. He was quite the sight, and for a moment Alice forgot to breathe. He most definitely pleased her in looks, and she said a silent prayer that their marriage would be beneficial to both of them.

  As Mr. Irwin relinquished her to James, she looked into his eyes, hoping to see...what? She couldn’t lie. She wanted James to desire her, if only in the tiniest way. But his demeanor was impossible to read. He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, and they faced the priest.

  The ceremony was longer than she expected and the kiss at the end was simple, not more than a peck on her lips. Disappointment welled up inside her. All week, she’d contemplated what it would be like to kiss James. Apparently, he hadn’t been as curious.

  They turned to face the guests, and the priest concluded the ceremony with, “Please welcome Mr. and Mrs. James Martel.”

  Polite clapping ensued.

  James clasped her hand and led her from the church. White, fluffy clouds hung in the late afternoon sky, the bright blue patches beginning to fade into gray. Exhilaration rushed through Alice.

  I’m married.

  James ushered her into a waiting buggy. As the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves filled the air, James stared at the passing buildings as they left Fall River and headed back to Tiverton. The reception would be held at Whitridge Hall, not far from the train depot.

  Alice folded her hands onto her lap and sought to quiet her nerves. “It was a nice ceremony.”

  He nodded, but still didn’t look at her.

  “Have I done something wrong? You seem displeased.” She couldn’t quite keep the edge from her voice.

  He looked at her, his brow furrowed. “No. You look extremely fetching today.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks from the compliment. “Thank you. And you, too.”

  Finally, a smile tugged at his mouth and she relaxed a bit.

  “Mrs. Irwin was too kind with this beautiful dress she loaned me. She said it had been worn by her daughter.”

  James’ gaze briefly scanned her attire, but he quickly diverted his eyes to continue staring out of the buggy.

  Alice’s heart beat a staccato in her chest. He does desire me. She was sure of it. She felt victorious, but fear also gripped her. Tonight was her wedding night, and she knew precious little of what to expect. Her mama had died five years ago, long before such a conversation could be had. What little she’d heard had been from Lottie and Judith. She would simply have to rely on their advice. She hoped she could remember all they’d said.

  Chapter Five

  James took hold of Alice’s hand, now free of the silk glove, and tried to ignore the race of his heartbeat from a simple touch.

  “Your home is beautiful.”

  You’re beautiful. He ignored the wayward thought. “Thank you.”

  Once she stepped from the buggy, Alice craned her neck to view the two-story dwelling, the white facade illuminated in the moonlight. The overcast skies of earlier had given way to a clear night, starlight twinkling as if in celebration of their wedding. James reluctantly released her hand, seeing no good reason to continue holding it.

  “And all three of you live here?” Alice asked, her soft voice sliding around him.

  James nodded. “There seemed no reason for my brothers and I to leave after our mother and father passed.”

  She paused. “May I inquire as to what happened?”

  “It was a carriage accident, five years ago.”

  “That sounds truly terrible. Please accept my deepest sympathies.” The compassion in Alice’s gaze tugged at James’ conscience.

  He had no idea if Frank spoke the truth about her inheritance, but the possibility that he might own Menhaden Fishing in little more than six weeks strengthened his resolve. The company was rightfully his. If anyone should feel regret, it was Daniel Endicott. James held no ill will toward Alice and was assuaged by the thought that he would behave like a gentleman while her husband. He’d do his best to make her comfortable before divorcing her.

  In an effort to deflect the awkward silence that had descended between them, James said, “This area was part of the original Plymouth colony in the 1600’s. We believe the home was built around 1750 by a man named Otis Almy. You won’t find a better property along the Sakonnet. We added an additional room on the rear west side along with the stone wall and the barn.”

  She smiled. “I look forward to a full tour.”

  “Tomorrow perhaps.” He indicated for her to precede him into the house.

  The festivities after the ceremony had continued late, and his brothers remained at the hall. Alice appeared tired, so James had brought her home—alone.

  My wife.

  Despite his intention to end the union, he couldn’t deny the oddly exhilarating sensation of being officially married. Truth be told, he liked Alice Endicott.

  Alice Martel, he corrected.

  He led her into the foyer, his hand lightly at her back. Her things had been brought earlier from the Irwin’s and placed in his bedroom.

  “Would you like a nightcap?” he asked.

  Tension played across her face. “That would be nice.”

  James knew he needed to explain the separate bedrooms they would be occupying, but he found himself wishing to avoid a lengthy discussion.

  The less entangled he became with his wife, the better. It didn’t help that he found her so damn attractive. She appealed to him in every possible way, and standing near her distracted him far too much for a woman he’d only recently met. The light kiss he’d planted on her mouth during the ceremony had left him wanting in ways he hadn’t expected.

  Veering to the right, he preceded her into the parlor. At a side table he poured two brandies and brought one to her.

  She took the glass and smiled unsteadily then drank the contents in one swift swallow.

  He watched her in surprise.

  She laughed.

  He downed his drink. This is going to be harder than I thought.

  He took her glass from her, his hand brushing her fingers, and tried not to enjoy the satiny feel of her skin. Refilling the beakers with more brandy, he gestured for her to have a seat so that he could more easily put distance between them. Sitting in the chair opposite her, he placed her drink on the table before her hand could get anywhere near his.

  “You have many lovely friends, James.” The sound of his name all but caressed him. He finished his second drink and poured another, taking his seat again.

  Suitably fortified, he decided to end this agony so they could both retire in peace. “Alice, I want to make it clear to you that I don’t expect you to share my bed.”

  The surprise on her face twisted something inside him. “You don’t?”

  All of the chivalrous reasons instantly fled. She was his wife. He didn’t need to keep his distance.

  But a vision of his maman filled his head. He wouldn’t disrespect her wishes, despite that she no longer walked the earth. If he took Alice to bed, the marriage would be real. And forever.

  Once he acquired Menhaden Fishing, he’d have no use for his wife. And he was fairly certain as well that she would have no use for him. He was under no delusion—Alice would harbor a deep animosity for him once this was all done.

  He would procure the fishing company, but that would be all he took from Alice Endicott Martel.

  “We don’t know one another wel
l,” he continued. “Your things have been placed in my bedroom on the second floor, which is now yours.”

  “Where will you sleep?”

  “The servant’s quarters on the first floor, in the addition I mentioned earlier.”

  “Where will the servants sleep?”

  James shifted in his seat. “We don’t have any. Mrs. Irwin will no longer be staying here. She’ll continue to help us a few times a week. I think her husband will be happy to have her back in their home.” The last remark, an attempt to lighten the mood, only increased the confusion on Alice’s face.

  “But...I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to be married.”

  Uncomfortable, James said, “I do. And please feel free to make yourself at home, but I don’t expect anything further.”

  “What about children?” she pressed.

  He was glad for the brandy warming his insides, but it still didn’t take the edge off her questions. “Perhaps in the future,” he lied. “There’s no need to rush.” But guilt reared its ugly head, jolting him. He needed to escape her company. “You look tired,” he said quickly. “Why don’t you let me show you to your room.”

  He turned away as she nodded, her stricken expression more difficult to ignore than he’d imagined.

  He led her upstairs, entered his room, and lit the lamp on the nightstand. Then he fled.

  Chapter Six

  Alice sat in the parlor with Theo. She stared at the chess pieces and considered her next move, but her mind was restless.

  It had been this way for the past week. There had been no honeymoon, just James telling her he didn’t expect anything from her. What he’d really meant was that he didn’t desire her enough to share his bed.

  It bothered her more than she liked.

  She was nothing more than a housekeeper. Not that it was unpleasant—Mrs. Irwin had schooled her in the everyday routine and continued to stop in to help, but Alice was confident she could handle the household chores herself. Besides, she didn’t have anything else to do.

  Why doesn’t James want a real marriage with me?

  It was true they were virtual strangers, but the only solution for that was to get to know one another. The insufferable man, however, refused to be present long enough for a conversation, let alone a meal.

  After supper—if he ate supper with them—he would promptly depart, saying he had paperwork that needed his attention. Frank would also leave, to see Mary Beth. That left Theo to take pity on her.

  “You’re taking a long time on this move.” He raised an eyebrow and watched with a youthful countenance. He had the dark look of the Martel men, but still carried a baby face and lankier build.

  “My apologies.” She moved her rook. “What is James like?”

  Theo smiled. “It’s hard marrying someone you don’t know, isn’t it? Please don’t take this the wrong way, Alice, but you showing up was a complete surprise. I had no idea James would ever send for a mail-order bride.”

  James had decided not to tell anyone, not even Theo, that it had been Frank who had requested her. He felt it was better if everyone assumed he had sent for a wife.

  She exhaled deeply. “Yes, it is hard marrying someone you don’t know.”

  “James has always been serious, but when we were kids, he did look out for me. We moved from Providence to Tiverton when I was eight years old. It was hard settling in, and the other kids picked on me. James was thirteen but tall, so he looked much older. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone teasing me. He’s a good man, if difficult to live with.”

  “James told me what happened to your parents. I’m very sorry, Theo.”

  He stared at the chess pieces and shrugged. “It was James that got us through it. He took over the fishing company. He made it into what it is today.”

  “Is the business successful?”

  Theo nodded and grinned. “We fish the menhaden. Have you heard of them?”

  Alice shook her head.

  “It’s used to make an oil that can be utilized in soap-making and for smearing sheep to keep away parasites and soften the wool. It also makes an efficient compost. We fish mainly in Mount Hope Bay and have a fleet of six ships. James is looking to add more, but what we really hope to acquire is at least one fish oil factory. There are several in this area and it would really grow our business.”

  “It sounds as if you all work really hard.”

  “It’s all any of us has ever known.”

  Alice moved her queen. “Check mate.”

  Theo groaned. “You’ve beat me again. How did you get to be so good at this game?”

  “My papa taught me when I was young. Like you, I’ve also lost both of my parents. But it’s nice to still have a connection to them, isn’t it?”

  Theo silently agreed. “I think that’s why James devotes so much time to the business.”

  Chapter Seven

  Alice placed a freshly-baked loaf of bread wrapped in cheesecloth into the basket, the warm, yeasty odor surrounding her. It sat atop a hunk of cheese and the ham from the previous evening’s supper. She went to the back door, shrugged into a heavy wool jacket and donned a bonnet, tying it below her chin. Midday was chilly in November.

  Under a clear sky and a bright sun, she began the long walk to the wharf to bring lunch to James, Frank and Theo. Well, most days, it was only Frank and Theo. Her husband had a knack for being absent during her visits.

  Seagulls hovered and swooped around her, and Alice took a deep breath of the biting sea air. On bad weather days, she took the buggy. Theo had showed her how to harness the gentle and amiable gray gelding they called Dimitri so that she could go to town if she desired. What she really craved, however, was the company of James. His complete lack of interest in their marriage, and her, left her nerves frayed. So, when she could walk, she embraced the exercise with a determined vigor fed by her brittle temper. She’d silently curse him all the way then pause just outside the door, hoping she might see him, hoping he would change.

  The Martel Fishing Enterprises building—a ramshackle dwelling sided with weather-beaten shingles—sat at the end of a cluster of fishing-related businesses. Fishing for menhaden, called pogies by the locals, was by far the biggest enterprise, although Theo had told her that clams, quahogs, scallops, and oysters were also harvested during the summer.

  Along with running the office, James, Frank and Theo frequently went out with the steamers they owned. On those days, she never saw James, since he arose before dawn and returned well after supper.

  She could only hope that on this afternoon her husband was sequestered at his desk, attending to paperwork.

  As she stepped from the soft ground to the wooden walkway, the tap of her boots matched the increasing pace of her heartbeat in anticipation of seeing her husband.

  Men shouted in the distance. Unease rippled through her as she shifted her gaze to the fishing boats beyond. She set the basket down on the stoop of Martel Fishing and moved toward the commotion.

  A sudden explosion blasted through the air, and she fell back. Stunned, she struggled to stand. Racing toward the smoking boat, she bumped into man after man as they yelled and pushed past her. The sight of a body dragged from the water made her heart stop.

  James!

  “Oh no!” She went immediately to his side as his body was hoisted on to the dock. “What happened?”

  Frank crouched across from her, distress pinching his dirty face. “I told him not to go. He was trying to save Freddy from the fire. There was an oil drum...”

  Alice removed her gloves and placed her hands on either side of James’ head, then beneath his nose. “He’s breathing.” She checked the length of him, looking for any serious injury. Black soot covered him, and his clothing was torn, but—thankfully— he was still in one piece. “We need to get him back to the office and call a doctor.”

  Frank shouted to the men milling about, and they soon had hold of James’ unconscious form, carrying him up to the fishing office. Alice follo
wed swiftly.

  With no piece of furniture large enough to hold James’ large frame, Alice searched a sideboard and, upon locating a blanket, placed it onto the floor. The men laid James upon it. She folded a second blanket and slipped it beneath his head.

  “Get the doctor,” she demanded to Frank.

  He nodded and departed.

  Alice went to work locating a cloth and basin of water and began cleaning James’ face. She unbuttoned his jacket, vest and shirt to assess any unseen injury, surprised by the matte of dark hair that covered his chest. As his wife, she should know such intimate details, and the fact that she didn’t filled her with despair.

  Please don’t leave me, James.

  Soon, a man arrived carrying a black bag.

  “Alice, let Doc Sanford have a look.” Frank gently guided her into the outer room.

  She watched the inert form of her husband until someone closed the door.

  * * * *

  James opened his eyes and found himself in his bedroom, but it had a decidedly feminine touch now. The plain white curtains had been replaced with a light purple lace, the coverlet atop him was in hues of yellows and blues, and a vase filled with flowers sat on the nightstand.

  Alice entered the room, and her striped cotton day dress, despite being buttoned to her neck, revealed curves he’d tried his best to ignore. Since the day he’d married her, he’d managed to avoid his wife quite thoroughly.

  She smiled, set a tray on the table at the foot of the bed, and turned to push the curtains wide. “I’m glad to see you’re awake.”

  He scowled. “Why do you have flowers in your room?” Had he really just uttered such a silly question? Her presence addled his brain, not unlike the queasy sensation of seasickness.

  She returned to the tray. “Although I’ve been into Tiverton several times, I actually found a delightful shop in Fall River that grows them indoors. I’m afraid I couldn’t resist. I’ve always had a weakness for flowers. It’s difficult living in an area that smells like rotting fish all the time. You did give me an allowance and said I could use it however I see fit.”