by Kris Tualla
There it was.
With a cry and a sob, Kirsten fell against him. Reid’s arms wrapped around her hips, his face was pressed against her bosom.
“I’m sorry, Reid. I’m sorry,” she said, weeping without restraint. “Please forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” he replied, his voice hoarse. “We both made the path difficult.”
“Then we must forgive each other,” she insisted.
Reid let go of her and climbed to his feet. “We have. And now, there is one more thing which needs to be said.”
Kirsten’s emotions were too raw for her to anticipate what that last thing might entail. Fear surged through her again. “What?”
Reid took both her hands between his work-roughened palms. “Kirsten Sven, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife on the morrow?”
A relieved laugh burst from her. It was followed by another, and another, until she was giggling uncontrollably.
Reid leaned down to meet her eyes. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes!” she yelped.
Reid lifted her in a tight bear hug and spun her around in giddy circles. “Thank God!” he shouted. When he set her down, he added, “My journey back to Missouri was going to be indescribably dismal if you refused me still!”
He kissed her again. Though less lengthy, this kiss was no less intense.
“I love you, Kirsten,” he whispered against her mouth, his forehead pressed to hers.
“And I love you Reid,” she answered in kind.
They stood still, leaning on each other, sharing the quiet peace of the moonlit evening for several long moments, before the reality of their agreement forced Kirsten to move away.
“I suppose we should inform my parents,” she said quietly.
Reid gave her an amused smile. “And your displaced fiancé.”
Her mouth rounded with a sudden and unpleasant realization. “I’m breeching our promise! They will have to give him what they agreed to when he married me!”
“What is that?” Reid asked. “Your inheritance?”
She nodded, horrified. “Half, anyway.”
He shrugged. “I don’t care. I will take care of you.”
“But—it’s—a lot of money!” she sputtered.
Reid chuckled. “It’s not important. All I care about is taking you to wife. Unless…” His expression darkened.
“Unless what?” she demanded.
He glanced at the mansion. “Unless you aren’t willing to live under less luxurious circumstances.”
For the split of a second Kirsten wondered if Reid could have somehow heard her earlier thoughts. “No! I mean no, that’s not a concern. I am willing to live with less.”
He looked down at her. “Washing our dishes? And our clothes? Sweeping our floor?”
Kirsten looked over her shoulder at the huge house and its gleaming windows.
“This house has held my secrets for long enough. It’s time for me to come out from under its protection.” She faced Reid again. “Tomorrow I’ll become a new person—your wife. I’ll happily begin my new life with you. And I’ll embrace everything which that new life entails.”
He grinned. “I guarantee this will be an adventure like none you ever imagined.”
“I’m frightened enough as it is,” she chided him. “Don’t make it worse!”
Reid pulled her close again. “I will protect you always, Kirsten. Never forget that.”
She shook her head against his chest, unable to find her voice.
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
Reid let Kirsten enter the house first. He saw her shoulders straighten when she did so.
The coming scene was not going to be a pleasant one. Not only was Kirsten’s fresh decision at odds with her parents’ wishes, but Reid—her newly intended husband—had argued with them quite vehemently just before Kirsten reappeared.
“They are all in the drawing room,” she murmured, looking up at him. Her light blue eyes were hard as glaciers.
All Reid could do was pull her close for a quick, quiet kiss. “Jeg elsker deg. I love you so much that I crossed a continent to marry you. Remember that.”
Kirsten smiled and her cheeks pinkened. “Jeg elsker deg, også.”
“So go tell them,” he whispered.
His soon-to-be wife nodded and strode purposefully toward the drawing room door. He followed close behind and, though his longer strides felt less urgent, his heart was marching in pace with her.
“Mamma, Pappa.” She greeted her parents before turning to the room’s third occupant. “Lord Helland.”
Three pair of eyes lifted their regard over her head and slammed into Reid. He gazed blandly back at them, not allowing any clues to show in his expression.
Kirsten waited for her silence to draw the curious attention back to her. “I want to assure you all that I am still getting married tomorrow.”
“Thank the Lord!” Marit exclaimed.
Emil looked suspicious.
Henrik clearly wasn’t convinced of her meaning. “Are you certain, Datter?”
She nodded. “I am Pappa. But there is one detail I need to clarify.”
Reid almost laughed at the drawn out manner in which way Kirsten was presenting her news. Either she was thoroughly enjoying the moment, or she was terrified to state her recent decision aloud. Even so, the confused looks of concern which each of the three fixed on her were quite amusing.
“What detail?” Marit snapped.
Kirsten faced her mother. “I shall stand at the altar with Reid. Not Emil.”
The room exploded, reminiscent in Reid’s mind of the impact which brought him to Kirsten in the first place.
“No!” Marit cried. “I’ll not allow it!”
Emil jumped to his feet, looking stricken. “Are you breaking our agreement?”
Kirsten stared at him. “Don't worry. You will still be paid. That’s why you wanted to marry in the first place, was it not?”
“Kirsten!” Henrik bellowed, obviously appalled.
“Give him the money, Pappa,” she said in a kinder tone as she turned to face her father. “I don’t need it.”
Marit rose to her feet, glaring at her daughter. “You were gently raised, Kirsten. You are not prepared to live the life of a pauper!”
“I’m not a pauper,” Reid growled.
“You are not nobility, either!” she snapped.
“I am better suited to care for your daughter than any man she has ever met,” Reid countered. “Why do you think she has never agreed to marriage before?”
“She agreed to marry me,” Emil declared.
“Only to satisfy her parents,” Reid stated. “She told me about your arrangement.”
Emil paled and sank back into his chair.
Kirsten’s alarmed gaze bounced to Reid’s.
“What arrangement?” Henrik queried, looking from one man to the other.
Reid waved his hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. The point is moot now.”
“He is right, Pappa,” Kirsten interjected. “Reid is the only man I ever truly wanted to marry.”
“But he walked out on you!” Marit’s outrage flowed in waves off her trembling frame. “And he did so twice! What’s to stop him from abandoning you again?”
Kirsten rounded on her. “You sent him away the first time, Mamma. You cannot deny that.”
Marit’s chin lifted. “Not the second time. He did that on his own.”
“No. He did not.” Kirsten’s voice dropped so low that the room’s inhabitants stilled in order to hear her words. “That time I sent him away.”
“Why?” Henrik asked gently.
Kirsten looked up at Reid, her regret shining in her eyes. “In my own pride, and my own stubbornness, I mistook the words of his proposal.”
“He proposed?” Henrik frowned at Reid. “I forbade you from courting her.”
“And I told you I would court her anyway, don’t you recall?” Reid asked, his tone blunt. “I
was a colonel in the army. I didn’t take orders, I gave them.”
“Such insolence,” Marit grumbled. “It’s unthinkable.”
“Mamma, I’m twenty-seven. Reid is thirty-two. We are hardly errant children to be ordered around,” Kirsten pointed out.
Henrik shook his head and ran his hands over his thinning hair. “I have my reservations, Datter, and so many of them,” he said. “Are you very certain?”
Kirsten gave her father a tender look. “I am, Pappa. I love him very much.”
Reid stepped behind Kirsten and rested his palms on her shoulders. “And I love Kirsten. Beneath all the wealth, the title, and her royal status, lies an intelligent woman of strong and resilient character, independent thought, and with a fine sense of humor.”
Marit shot one last volley. “And she’s beautiful. Don’t forget that.”
Reid chuckled at the memory of how that played out between him and Kirsten. “If you will recall, Madame Sven, I was blinded when I became acquainted with her.”
“Even so, her appearance must influence your affections,” Marit pushed.
Reid felt Kirsten stiffen under his hands. He shot the woman with a sharp gaze. Anger fizzed through his veins.
“I didn’t cross a continent for just a pretty face, I’ll guarantee you that,” he warned. “And for you to suggest such a thing is an insult to your daughter. I suggest you apologize.”
Marit gaped at him. “What?”
“Darling, that was a bit harsh,” Henrik agreed.
Marit glared at him. “I apologize—but only for trying to ferret out the truth of this man’s motives.”
Kirsten looked at Reid over her shoulder and winked. Her meaning was clear; that was the best apology her mother would give. The clock chimed ten times.
“The hour grows late, Mamma. I’ll send Reid back to his hotel in our carriage,” she stated. “First, we need to discuss some of the details for tomorrow.”
Marit paled. “What will we tell the guests?”
“The truth. That I am marrying Colonel Reidar Magnus Hansen, retired veteran of the Continental Army, and landed estate owner in the Missouri territory.” Kirsten shrugged. “That should make them sit up and take notice.”
“Are you suggesting that we move forward as if nothing has happened?” Marit’s incredulity almost made Reid laugh again.
“As the sister to the king of Denmark and Norway,” Reid posited, “I am certain you may call upon your upbringing and experience to smooth over this diplomatic situation.”
Marit gave him a narrowed stare. Obviously she understood the double edges of his pointed statement.
“Of course I shall,” she responded, choosing the higher road as Reid assumed she would.
Reid considered Kirsten. “What were your plans for tomorrow night?”
Her face reddened and she bit her lower lip before she answered. “We were staying here. Emil was to move into the room adjoining mine.”
Reid turned toward the silent man he forgot was even in the room. “That won’t do. We’ll return to my hotel and reside there until we depart.”
“I’ll pack a small trunk tonight,” Kirsten said. “Then I’ll need to return here during the days to pack up the remainder of my things.”
Marit lowered to the settee, her expression somber as fresh realization sculpted it. “You’ll be leaving us.”
Kirsten gave a tiny nod. “Yes.”
She lifted teary eyes to Reid. “When?”
“We can stay a week,” he offered. “I’ve decided to sail back, rather than drag my wife across the rough countryside. We’ll take a ship from here to New Orleans, then a keelboat up the Mississippi River to St. Louis.”
“Can you afford that?” Kirsten murmured.
Reid squeezed her shoulders. “Yes. I received all of my back pay, if you will recall.”
Kirsten smiled and patted his hand. Reid noticed that Henrik watched their exchange, his expression pensive.
Reid stepped away from Kirsten and approached her father. “Will you give us your blessing, Henrik?”
“Would it change anything if I said no?” he asked.
Reid shook his head and held out his hand. “But I’d appreciate it, even so.”
Henrik’s mouth moved as if chewing his thoughts before spitting out his words.
Kirsten came to Reid’s side. Her arm rested against his. “Pappa?”
Henrik considered his daughter. “You are indeed an exceptional woman, Kirsten. I must respect your decision. And yet I pray you will never come to regret it.”
“Thank you, Pappa,” she whispered.
Henrik grasped Reid’s hand firmly. “Don’t keep her away from us.”
“I won’t,” Reid promised. “We’ll come back to visit every couple of years, as long as our situation allows it.”
“Thank you.” Henrik looked at his wife. “It’s done, Marit.”
Emil cleared his throat. “About my situation…”
Henrik faced the man, his expression compassionate. “I’ll have your money the day after tomorrow. You may remain here as our guest for the week, if you care to.”
Emil nodded, looking relieved. “Yes, sir.”
Kirsten slipped her hand into Reid’s. “Will you please summon the carriage, Pappa? Reid and I will wait outside.”
Reid’s fingers tightened over hers. They felt so soft and small in his hand that for a moment he wondered if he was making a mistake by taking her away from the easy life she was accustomed to.
I’ll make it up to her, he vowed.
Bowing politely to Henrik and Marit, Reid led Kirsten to the front door. They stepped out into the balmy night, now brightly lit by the risen moon.
“Crockery,” Kirsten said. “And pewter.”
“I beg your pardon?” Reid responded.
She looked up at him, half of her face in shadow and the other half blued by the moonlight. “China and silver are too fragile and require too much care. I’ll buy a set of crockery dishes and pewter tableware for our cabin.”
Reid blinked at her. “You have already decided?”
She nodded. “And my dresses will be cotton, linsey-woolsey, and wool. Satin and silk aren’t washable.”
“Won’t you miss them?” he asked, examining her reaction.
Kirsten’s brow wrinkled. “Are there balls for us to attend?”
Reid coughed a laugh. “Not unless we host one!”
“Then, no.” She grinned at him. “I am very much looking forward to wearing comfortable dresses and simple hairstyles.”
The thought of Kirsten’s body being freed from such tight restraints sent a different sort of fizz through his veins. Now that their marriage was imminent, he must plan how best to bring her happily into his bed.
“I don’t expect to consummate our marriage tomorrow night,” he said softly. “In case that was a concern of yours.”
Her mood shifted and she pulled back. “You will have the right.”
“Yes, I will. But I promised to protect you, as you might recall.” He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “And that means I’ll take my time. Having you experiencing your full pleasure in my bed is definitely worth waiting for.”
“Oh,” she breathed.
He took her in his arms and kissed her very well.
This is just the beginning.
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
August 4, 1782
Thankfully, Reid’s frock coat was cleaned, and he had a lace stock in his bag. He wore the same trousers and shirt as yesterday because the rest of his clothes hung dripping on the line behind the hotel. He did pay for another shave, however.
When he traveled to Philadelphia he had no assurance that Kirsten would agree to marry him, so it never occurred to him that his wedding could happen less than twenty-four hours after his arrival. Though he wished he could present a more elegant figure, at the least he was neat and clean.
The Sven’s carriage met him at the hotel and transported him to Christ’s Chu
rch. The red brick building stood over three stories tall, with a thick, square tower rising a full story over its pitched copper roof. An elaborate whitewashed wooden steeple doubled the height of the tower and was visible for miles.
Reid climbed the front steps and walked inside. The ceremony was nearly an hour distant, but a few guests were beginning to gather inside the bright, white sanctuary. Dust motes danced in the sun which spilled through the windows as if to celebrate his coming nuptials. Reid smiled.
Thank you, Lord.
A cleric in black robe and white stole approached. “May I help you, sir?”
“Yes, thank you,” Reid answered. “I am the groom.”
The cleric gave him a kind look. “Perhaps you have the wrong church. Today’s wedding is between Kirsten Sven and Emil Helland.”
“Not anymore, I’m afraid.” Reid offered his hand. “My name is Reidar Magnus Hansen. As of yester eve, I am the man marrying Kirsten Sven today.”
“Father Mark.” The man shook Reid’s hand mechanically, one of his eyebrows lifted while the other fell. “I was not informed.”
“The decision was made around the hour of ten last night,” Reid explained. “When Henrik arrives, he can confirm the change.”
Father Mark stepped back and his gaze measured Reid from the hair tucked behind his ears to his tall polished boots. “If what you are telling me is true, I must confess you appear a more suitable candidate for the princess.”
Does everyone know?
Reid dipped his chin. “Thank you, again.”
Father Mark beckoned Reid. “Come with me. I’ll need your information for the new documents.”
“Of course.” Reid followed the cleric into a small room off the narthex.
*****
Kirsten paced in the entry hall of her home until the carriage returned from transporting Reid. She climbed inside with her father’s help and took her seat. He handed her mother in next. Marit sat across from her and Henrik sat beside her.
“You’ll wear yourself out before the day has begun,” Marit chided.
Kirsten smiled cheerfully. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’m glad to see you happy, Datter,” Henrik said as the carriage turned from their long drive onto the road. “I was worried about you.”
