Bride by Chance

by Marilyn Shank

  * * *

  A sleepy Lancelot greeted Liza as she opened the cottage door. “You mean you’re still awake?” she asked the pup. He wagged his tail but not with as much velocity as usual. He’d obviously been sound asleep until she walked in.

  Liza glanced at the clock on the mantle. Ten thirty. When she returned to real life, she’d be sleeping by now. But she didn’t want to think about going back home. Would she be happy as a Kansas City attorney living in an upscale condo? Or had this time with Martin changed her life forever?

  She scooped the drowsy Lancelot into her arms. “Come on, sweetie. You and I are turning in, and the sooner, the better.”

  She entered Meg’s bedroom and placed the pup on his blanket at the foot of the bed. If anyone had told her a week ago that she’d be sharing her bed with a canine, she’d have said they were nuts. But so many things had changed since she’d come to Meadow Springs—more things than she could count.

  Lancelot snuggled into the warmth of the blanket and closed his eyes. This should be her dog, not her sister’s. She and Lancelot kept the same hours, unlike Meg, a perpetual night owl, who often got just five hours sleep. “Snooze away, little guy,” she said as she patted his soft head. But Lancelot didn’t hear her. He was in dreamland.

  Liza couldn’t wait to get there herself. The hours she slept were the only time she didn’t feel troubled and heaped with guilt.

  As she thought about the evening she’d spent with Martin, she could still feel the dreamy sensation of his arms wrapped around her. And when she slipped off her blouse, she smelled traces of Martin’s musky scent clinging to it. She buried her face in the fabric and took a long, deep breath. Martin Landsburg. The man she would give her heart to in an instant, but she couldn’t. Not when he belonged to her sister.

  This farce just couldn’t go on. If she could solve complicated court cases, she could figure out a way to escape the fantasy world she now lived in and resume her own life.

  There had to be a way.

  * * *

  On Sunday evening, Liza returned to Meg’s closet, hoping against hope that some new, plain-colored clothing had appeared since she’d last looked. Martin was taking her to the Carriage House for dinner, and while she couldn’t be certain, the place sounded fancy. If she were choosing from her own clothes, she’d wear her best little black dress and a string of pearls. But as she scanned Meg’s closet yet again, there wasn’t a black dress in sight.

  All she saw were flowered dresses, dresses with paisley patterns, even dresses accented with--heaven forbid--ruffles! The last time Liza had worn ruffles she was six years old. And she wasn’t pleased about it then.

  Toward the back, she spotted an A-line dress of teal-colored satin. While the fabric was too shiny for her taste, at least it was a solid color. And, thankfully, ruffle-free.

  Liza showered, re-curled her hair then went into the bedroom to slip on the dress. “What do you think?” she asked Lancelot who’d stayed faithfully beside her as she’d explored Meg’s closet.

  Maybe she’d received that miracle, after all. This dress was much closer to her classic style than anything Meg owned. For once, she felt like herself, instead of her twin sister.

  A knock sounded on the door, and a moment later Martin called out, “Meg? I’m here.”

  His deep voice echoed through the cottage, sending tingles of pleasure zipping up Liza’s spine. She tried to pretend her body wasn’t misbehaving. But when she headed for the living room and saw Martin standing there, she couldn’t still the thudding of her heart.

  His charcoal-gray sports jacket and black flannel slacks made him look like the in-charge man he was. Martin Landsburg looked so incredibly handsome she forgot to breathe.

  Then he smiled, and laugh-lines formed around his mouth. He surveyed her with obvious approval, and Liza’s heart fluttered faster than a nervous butterfly.

  “Good evening, gorgeous.” His resonant voice wreaked further havoc on her emotions. “I see you’re wearing my favorite dress.”

  Liza swallowed hard, unable to believe that in the vast flower garden of Meg’s closet, she’d chosen Martin’s favorite dress.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice. It would probably come out as an embarrassing squeak or not at all.

  As they headed for Martin’s SUV, Liza wondered where her composure had gone. She was known throughout Kansas City as a polished trial lawyer: a woman who could control a courtroom by the tone of her voice. Where had her skills gone? And how could she get them back?

  After a drive into the country, Martin pulled into the parking lot of the Carriage House. The two-story restaurant built of weathered gray boards had tall windows lining the front. The shutters were painted barn red and flower boxes filled with pansies and petunias were mounted beneath each window.

  Once inside, Martin approached the hostess. “Landsburg,” he said. “Party of two.”

  “Right this way, Mr. Landsburg.”

  The hostess wore a long black skirt and a white satin blouse. Apparently satin was the fabric du jour, Liza thought as she followed the woman to a cozy table near a back window. White linen tablecloths and centerpieces of yellow orchids added to the ambiance.

  Martin pulled out her chair, and she sat down. Below them, a rushing creek tumbled over rocks that jutted out in every direction. “The view is lovely,” she said.

  “You always say that. I bring you here because you appreciate the wonders of nature.”

  Funny, Liza hadn’t appreciated a single wonder of nature in more years than she could count. She kept her nose buried in law books, and spent far more time in courtrooms than the great out-of-doors. And for the first time ever, that nagged at her. Was she too obsessed with her career? Was she missing out on life?

  A waitress brought menus, and Liza glanced at Martin as he studied his. She now understood why Meg planned to marry this man. He had rugged good looks, creative genius, business expertise, and a charming manner. If those weren’t credentials enough, he was also acting mayor and loved and respected by the townspeople.

  Quite a resume.

  “Are you having your usual tonight?” he asked.

  “Nope,” Liza affirmed. “I’m branching out.”

  Meg’s “usuals” were getting her into heaps of trouble.

  The waitress returned. “Good evening. I’m Amber and I’ll be your server. The chef highly recommends the prime rib. And the chef’s specialty is salmon with a dill sauce. Are you ready to order?”

  “I’ll have beef stew,” Liza said, praying it contained lots of vegetables.

  “Prime rib and a baked potato,” Martin affirmed as he passed their menus to Amber.

  Martin shifted nervously in his chair. How she wished she could be upfront with Martin. This decent, honorable man didn’t deserve to be fooled.

  He shifted again. “What’s bothering you, Martin?” she finally asked.

  He cleared his throat, and a flush brightened his cheeks. “I’d planned to wait until after dinner but maybe now is the time.”

  “The time for what?”

  When his gaze caught Liza’s and held on tight, her heart picked up a staccato beat. “Let’s go out to the waterfall. It’s private there.”

  Private? Uh-oh. Liza’s heart felt like it was turning flips on a trampoline.

  Martin stood and helped her from her chair. She followed him out the side door and down a flight of steps without asking a single question—quite an accomplishment for a trial lawyer!

  She heard the sound of rushing water, and when they turned the corner, a magnificent waterfall came into view. She stopped herself just before declaring how amazing it was. No doubt Meg had admired it many times before.

  The air felt balmy, and the aroma of honeysuckle scented the air. Martin stopped at a spot where the view was breathtaking. Then he reached for her hands, and his gaze held a definite sparkle.

  He took a deep breath then said, “I love you, Meg O’
Malley, and I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

  Panic rippled through every cell of Liza’s body. And mixed into the panic was excitement. Martin Landsburg had just proposed!

  Her vocal chords still weren’t cooperating, and her hands grew clammy. After several false starts, she said, “Oh, Martin, I didn’t expect this.”

  “We’ve talked about marriage several times. I know you’ve been considering it.”

  “I, um, was. Yes, I was.”

  The gleam in his eyes dimmed. “Does that mean you aren’t anymore?”

  “No, no, that’s not what I mean. But are you sure the timing is right?”

  He shrugged. “Hey, I’m thirty-two years old, and you’ll soon be thirty. I know you want children, Meg, and so do I. We get along great and make a wonderful team. Why wait any longer?”

  Liza’s pulse throbbed like a psyched-up drummer hitting the bongos. She could hear it pulsating in her ears.

  What should she say? What could she say? After all, Martin wasn’t proposing to her. He was proposing to her twin sister!

  “Say something, honey. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  Deep breath, now another. “I think you’re an amazing man, Martin. You’re talented, successful, and I’m honored that you asked me to marry you.”

  The sparkle left his eyes. “I’m glad you feel honored. But I’d rather you felt happy. Or even excited.”

  “Oh, I do, I do.” Mixed into the confusion swirling through Liza’s body were threads of both happiness and excitement. And some insane part of her wished Martin was proposing to her!

  He cupped her chin and pulled her close. “If you’re happy, prove it to me.” Before she could stop him, Martin placed his mouth firmly over hers.

  As their lips met, the noise of the waterfall was drowned out by the pounding of Liza’s heart. His kiss weakened what little resistance she had, so she kissed him back. While she knew she should pull back, Martin’s mouth on hers made moving impossible. Discipline deserted her like a kid racing from class when the bell rang.

  They broke off the kiss, and a grin as big as Texas spread across Martin’s face. “Now that’s more like it, honey.”

  As he held her tenderly, Liza drew a ragged breath. Only one other man had kissed her so gloriously and so thoroughly. Travis Randall had turned her emotions topsy-turvy and she’d accepted when he’d proposed. But he’d betrayed her even before the wedding. And it had taken years to recover.

  Martin reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He flipped open the lid, took out a to-die-for ring, and reached for her hand. “I’ll be a good husband, Meg, and a good father to our children. You have my word.”

  Suddenly, it was over. Liza glanced down at the diamond and amethyst ring sparkling on the third finger of her left hand. She expelled an excited breath. “It’s magnificent, Martin. I’ve never seen a more beautiful ring.”

  He smiled, assuming she’d just agreed to marry him. And since she couldn’t figure out a way to refuse him without ruining Meg’s chances with Zach, she guessed that she had. At least she’d given Martin a temporary yes -- a “for-the-moment” yes.

  He kissed her again, sweetly and tenderly this time. By now, Liza’s ability to think had completely disappeared. She felt like she’d stumbled into a dream.

  Someone else’s dream, her conscience prompted. Certainly not yours.

  He took her hand. “Let’s go back inside. Our food has probably arrived. Are you ready?”

  She tried to flash a happy smile, an engaged-woman smile. Maybe Martin wouldn’t notice that her hands were trembling—and not from caffeine overload. She nodded. “I’m ready.”

  Ready for what? she wondered as they headed back. Ready to eat? She doubted she could ever chew or swallow again. Ready to be an engaged woman? Absolutely not!

  Liza prayed her legs would carry her back up the stairs and into the Carriage House, and somehow she made it. She let Martin do most of the talking during their meal. He spoke of possible wedding dates and other marriage-related topics while Liza smiled and tried very hard not to scream.

  She’d been so focused on having Meg fall in love with Zach she hadn’t realized how complicated things could get with Martin. But they had. And now, to her horror, Liza was engaged to him!

  * * *

  After she watched the news, Liza decided to call Meg. While she couldn’t say a word about her engagement to Martin, she needed to touch base with her sister. Hopefully, Meg was coping with her pretend world far better than Liza was.

  “It’s a good thing you’re five hundred miles away, Liza,” Meg said when she answered her phone. “If you were here, I would strangle you. Barehanded!”

  So much for Meg’s coping skills. “What did I do?” Liza asked innocently.

  And for the next five minutes, Meg told Liza about the confusion in her life. And since Zach thought Meg was Liza, it was considerable. When Meg explained how she’d gotten lost in Zach’s mansion of a house, Liza could vividly picture the scene. And when Zach had asked Meg to drive his new stick shift Cadillac -- Meg never could drive a standard transmission -- she’d put both their lives in peril. Liza could imagine the shocked look on Zach’s face as the Cadillac lunged along. She tried to stifle her giggles, but couldn’t manage and burst out laughing.

  To her amazement and delight, Meg laughed, too! Just like when they were kids, once they started giggling, they couldn’t stop. Both twins laughed until their sides ached.

  “There’s nothing funny about the mess I’m in,” Meg said, turning suddenly sober. “Sometimes I’m not sure which twin I really am.” She sighed.

  “I heard you sigh. What’s the matter?”

  “I’m so confused. Part of me wants to end this farce as quickly as possible. But another part of me doesn’t want the playacting to stop.”

  Liza’s heart skipped a beat at Meg’s comment. Her plan was working! “Aha. Face it, sis,” she said. “You’re falling for Zach. And it’s the head-over-heels kind of love.”

  “I most certainly am not. That’s pure nonsense.”

  “Why else would you want to keep pretending?”

  “Because I like Zach. I enjoy his company as a friend.”

  “It’s more than that. You have deep feelings for the man. And it’s time you own up to them.”

  “I have deep feelings for Martin,” Meg snapped. “You do remember Martin, don’t you? The man I’m practically engaged to?”

  Guilt hit Liza with the force of a lightning bolt. If Meg knew about Liza’s shenanigans, she would be horrified.

  “Yes, Meg,” she said quietly. “I do remember Martin.”

  Martin was Meg’s boyfriend—Meg’s loyal, caring boyfriend. If Meg really was falling for Zach, what would happen when Martin found out? Liza couldn’t bear to think of it. The challenges she faced now were child’s play compared to what would happen if—make that when—Martin learned the truth.

  She and Meg talked a little longer then ended their conversation. When Liza climbed into bed, she knew she wouldn’t get much sleep tonight. Things were spiraling out of control at an alarming rate. Was there any way to keep the impending train wreck from happening?

  The only positive aspect of the whole jumbled mess was that Meg was falling for Zach. That was the one bright star on the horizon and the reason Liza had set up the charade in the first place. If Meg and Zach fell in love and committed their lives to each other, would the rest of the problems resolve naturally?

  While the jury was still out, Liza doubted that was possible. If she’d known how reconnecting Meg and Zach would upend Martin’s life, she might never have done it. Martin had been deeply hurt when Melissa betrayed him just before their wedding, and he’d never fully recovered. What would happen when he learned about the complicated charade Liza had set in motion? All because she’d thought Martin wasn’t the right man for Meg?

  The house of cards she’d been building would soon crumble. Hearts would be broken in the fa
ll. And when that happened, the man Liza now loved would take the hardest hit of all.

  CHAPTER 9

  Liza stretched and yawned as she awoke from a beautiful dream. In the dream, a handsome man had proposed to her in a lovely garden beside a waterfall. Liza still felt excited about those magical moments. Her dream had seemed incredibly real.

  Suddenly she shot up in bed and stared at her left hand where a gorgeous diamond surrounded by amethysts sparkled on her finger. “Oh, no,” she moaned. “The ring is real. And so is my engagement.”

  And of all the eligible men in the world, Liza had gotten herself engaged to Martin Landsburg -- Meg’s Martin Landsburg. She sprang out of bed and started to pace.

  Her outcries had frightened Lancelot, who barked as if the cottage were on fire. “I didn’t mean to startle you, sweetie,” she said as she scooped him into her arms and dropped into the overstuffed chair by the window. “It’s just that I got myself engaged, Lancelot. To my sister’s boyfriend.”

  The pup wagged his tail and seemed delighted by the news. He gazed into her eyes, and Liza could have sworn he smiled.

  “I know you’re crazy about Martin. And this is an amazingly beautiful diamond, isn’t it?” She flashed the ring at the dog’s eye level so he could get a good look.

  Always the diplomat, Lancelot barked his approval.

  Liza held up her hand again and studied the ring. The diamond glittered in the morning sunlight, and the amethyst stones surrounding it nearly took her breath away. This particular shade of purple was her very favorite color. Had Martin chosen the amethysts just for her?

  You’re delusional, her conscience chided.

  And that was true. Martin had chosen the ring for Meg. The irony of the situation was that Meg now had two men who were crazy about her—two wonderful, handsome, successful men who both idolized her.

  And Liza had zero.