It was her values, her beliefs which had shaped him much more so than those of his father. Yes, he had learned everything he knew about business from the man, but his mother had taught him how to live.
He set about clearing out the empty crates and the excelsior which had been used to protect the items within once Phoebe had finished with them. “I don’t know how to thank you,” he said more than once.
“Yes, I know. My sister and I have already discussed that.”
He looked her way, catching her in the act of eyeing him with suspicion. He could only imagine what she must think of him, and his shame was unspeakable.
Yet his pride and shame were of little concern at the moment. “Is there anything I can give you?”
She stared at him, standing in the center of his study after plumping the pillows on two wingback chairs. “Give me?”
Just when he thought he could not embarrass himself more. “Yes, that is, something for your trouble?”
She set her jaw at a determined angle, her chin jutting forward. “Mr. Jenkins. You might be accustomed to spending money quite freely, but it does not erase all debts. Do right by my sister, that is all I ask.”
She humbled him. He hadn’t the chance to express his regret for having chosen his words so foolishly before Cate floated through the front door with Violet in her basket.
“I came as fast as I could,” she breathed.
He’d almost forgotten how fresh and young and lovely she was, how she seemed to brighten the room upon crossing the threshold. She was nothing less than a savior to him, and he could have lost control of his emotions with happiness at the sight of her.
Behind her was a tall man, his long hair held back by a length of leather cord, and his face dark with what could only be anger as he glared at Landon.
“You coerced her into marriage?” the man demanded, storming into the house.
“Roan, please stop!” Cate hissed, clearly thinking of the baby.
Phoebe took the stranger by the arm. “This isn’t necessary. The man has good intentions, and if anyone is to be blamed for all of this, it is our sister.”
“She is only trying to help me.” Landon stood his ground in front of the tall man, all but daring him to strike.
Landon would guarantee the man would come to regret it. For while Landon’s business did not require much physical activity, he’d been a member of the boxing team at Harvard and would like nothing more in his current state of mind than to use his fists against a willing partner.
There was no need. “Roan, I am fully able to take care of myself. I make my own decisions. There was no coercion involved.” Cate’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. “Now, both you and my sister have seen my husband and my house for the time being with your own two eyes, and you know I am not in harm’s way. I can manage from here. Thank you both very much.”
“And just what do you think Molly and Holly will think when they find you gone?” Phoebe folded her arms, shaking her head at her younger sister. “Honestly, Cate, you don’t think things through.”
Cate’s face turned an alarming shade of red, almost reminding Landon of Violet just before she was about to unleash a torrent of screams. He suspected that was exactly what he wished to do. She wished to scream at her sister, to rail against her belittling comments.
Instead, she smiled. “I still believe you shall be surprised. Both of you. If you’ll excuse me, I must attend to the baby’s welfare while preparing for the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins. We can settle all of this once my time here at the house is complete.”
Phoebe and Roan exchanged a look Landon could not understand, though their apprehension was clear.
Roan shrugged. “I suppose there’s nothing else for us to do. She’s made her bed, and it’s time for her to lie in it.”
For a moment, Landon felt terribly sorry for Cate. It was clear she was treated as the baby of the family. Granted, she had rather flighty ideas, and some of her stranger notions had left him struggling not to laugh. He could only imagine how many times her sisters had laughed at her over the years.
When he thought of that and recalled the way Mr. Witherspoon had dismissed her before hearing her out, he wished he could console her.
Roan cast one last disparaging look his way before affixing a wide-brimmed hat to his head and turning to leave. To think, Landon had imagined the sheriff and deputy being his most worrisome adversaries. He’d known nothing of this other brother-in-law.
Then again, he knew nothing of Cate’s life whatsoever. And he had little time in which to learn.
She turned to him, her thoughts clearly following the same lines. “Well? Let us begin.”
“I—I’m sorry to put you through this,” he murmured, downcast after witnessing the dressing down she’d received thanks to him.
“It’s nothing.” She picked up the baby’s basket from the floor, and he was pleased to find her looking happy and comfortable. There had been no reason to fear.
Cate had everything well in hand. She was far more capable than he’d given her credit for. Far stronger, too.
He told himself it was his responsibility to make these next few days as pleasant as he could for her. She deserved it.
“Yes,” he agreed, and they climbed the stairs together. “Let’s begin.”
14
She’d thought a little pretending in front of her sister and brothers-in-law was the greatest performance of her life.
That had been nothing more than a dress rehearsal for this, the night she met her husband’s parents for the first time.
Cate stepped away from the full-length looking glass, admiring her new evening dress. She’d had no chance to wear it before now. There was little reason to impress her sisters and brothers-in-law while dining at home.
It was hardly something she would have worn to the theater where she in Baltimore, but it was far too fine to be worn about the ranch at supper. Dark blue and black plaid, the tight bodice extended past her hips and blossomed into an impressive bustle at the back. The underskirt was of the same fabric, folded in the most exquisite, tiny pleats she’d ever seen.
She had brushed her hair until it shone, then arranged it in a series of curls and braids which she had expertly wound around the back of her head. A few loose tendrils floated free, brushing against the pleated neck of the bodice. A pair of pearl and diamond earbobs which had belonged to her mother danced and sparkled merrily when she turned her head from side to side.
At the very least, she did to her husband proud.
“May I come in?” The voice came from the door which separated her room from Landon’s.
Her heart caught in her throat, for it wasn’t until now that she truly understood how close they would be over the next several days. Only a thin wall and a door separated their bedchambers.
She hoped he would behave as a gentleman ought to.
“You may come in,” she allowed. It was his house, after all.
She caught his reflection behind her own and noted the look of frank amazement on his face. He looked more handsome than ever, somehow, perhaps aided by the warm glow of the fire crackling away just beside him.
“You look lovely,” he murmured. “I must admit, I had worried—”
She smirked. “You worried that I would not do you justice? That I would turn out to be nothing more than an inexperienced country girl?” She laughed when he flushed embarrassment. “Fear not. My mother raised ladies, and I’m certain she would spin in her grave if she knew what life turned out to be for us.”
“They should be here shortly. It’s half-past-five, the train is due to arrive at six. There is something I felt compelled to settle before they arrive.”
She turned to him, expectant. “I’ve thought about this. It would be best for me to remain silent for a while. In fact, your father might regard me favorably if I held my tongue. This will help me avoid getting into any uncomfortable situations straightaway.”
He nodded,
distracted. “That is very wise of you, but it’s not why I’m here. At the moment, I wish to give you this.”
When he reached into the pocket of his waistcoat, she forgot to breathe. There was only one thing small enough to fit in there. One thing which would legitimize their entire arrangement.
He withdrew a gold band set with a single pearl, nestled between two sparkling rubies. She let out her breath in a slow, silent stream, transfixed by the ring’s beauty.
“You see, when my parents met, my mother’s family was not well-off at all. They lost their entire fortune just before my grandfather’s passing. The only item my grandmother could not bring herself to sell that she might keep her children fed and clothed was this ring. It meant far too much to her to ever let go. She gave it to my mother, her oldest daughter, and my mother gave to me in the hopes that I would one day place it on the hand of my wife.”
He’d been looking down at the ring as he delivered this speech, and only looked up at her once he finished. When he did, he grimaced.
“Did I upset you?” he asked, suddenly alarmed.
For she couldn’t hold back the tears his story inspired, tears over the great suffering and sacrifice it must have taken to save that ring when it could have easily fed and housed a number of children for any number of days.
She could only imagine the love and devotion which the ring’s owner had imbued it with, and now she would wear it upon her own finger.
For a moment, wrapped up in the romance of this notion, was a deep pang of guilt. The woman who wore this ring ought to have done so while in love. With a pure heart, with pure intentions. Not in the service of some elaborate lie.
Now, for the first time since they’d begun, she understood the enormity of what they were about to embark upon. She had to convince Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins that she was the sort of woman who could appreciate the beauty in this ring, that she deserved to wear it on her hand.
She was a good actress, but was she that good?
When she made no move to extend her hand, Landon took it and raised it on his own. He slid the cold band over her second to last finger, smiling.
“I had so hoped it would fit,” he murmured with a soft laugh. “It would seem in keeping with our luck thus far if it didn’t, would it not?”
She could not speak. She could hardly imagine anything to say that would do justice to this moment.
She’d just accepted a wedding ring from her husband, and yet she felt nothing for him but vague admiration and perhaps some inkling of attraction. He was a very handsome man, after all, and he had been very kind to her.
“Have I upset you? Is this too much?” Yes, he was a fine man, for he searched her face with true concern in his eyes and voice. Such blue eyes, too. He deserved a bride who would look up into them with nothing but the deepest love and devotion.
She was beginning to understand that she deserved eyes that would look down at her with nothing but the same. Not this sham of a marriage, which up to this point she had convinced herself was nothing more than a performance.
A single ring had brought everything to light in her heart. What a charlatan she was. Little wonder Phoebe and Roan were so cross with her.
“No,” she murmured for his sake. “It isn’t too much. It is just perfect. I’m glad you told me the story behind the ring, in case your mother mentions it.”
He smiled, proud of himself. “Yes, I thought that was best. Now, I take my coffee black. I enjoy brandy after dinner, but I do not smoke cigars or a pipe, as I cannot stand the things.”
She nodded, swallowing back the lump in her throat. Yes, she had to know about him. There was no time for sentiment. “Go on,” she prompted.
“I attended Harvard University.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “My, you attended such a fine school?”
“Why not? It is one of the best schools in the country, and my father believed I possessed an intellect requiring such education. I was on the boxing team there and earned several medals. I took the Grand Tour after graduation. I am an avid reader—I’m certain you have already seen the evidence of that in the library. I am my parents’ only living child. Unfortunately, my mother suffered three stillbirths after I was born, and her health was never the same after the last.”
Cate gasped, placing a hand over her breast. The poor woman. “She will be so happy to meet her granddaughter,” she breathed.
He rewarded her with a genuine smile which seemed to stretch from ear to ear. “Yes, that is the one thought that has kept me steady throughout this entire thing. How happy she will be.”
“And speaking of your daughter—”
Violet was happily engaged in opening and closing her tiny fists, staring at them as though they were the most fascinating things in the world.
Cate could not help but chuckle affectionately, in spite of the exhaustion which still plagued her, thanks to the little one.
“I hope she did not keep you up last night,” Landon offered, standing at her side while the two of them looked down into the new crib. A lovely thing, brand-new, its wooden frame draped in the softest white lace.
Cate giggled. “You know she did,” she chided. “I hope you slept.”
He laughed heartily. “You know I did.” He winked.
How she envied him, though she couldn’t help sharing a laugh. It was nice, laughing with him. As if they were friends, partners.
If not lovers. If not man and wife in anything more than name only.
The ringing of the doorbell brought their laughter to a halt and wedged a block of ice into Cate’s abdomen where her stomach had only just been.
“I have faith in you,” Landon said, his fingers wrapping around hers for the briefest moment. Perhaps it should not have come as a surprise that his hand was as cold as hers.
Little did he know what it meant to hear those five simple words. To know someone had faith in her. All her life, she’d been treated like a baby. Spoiled, petted, and she had naturally enjoyed the treatment. Who wouldn’t?
Yet that treatment was, in essence, a double-edged sword. For there was no separating the two—the petted, spoiled child, and the child who was unable to think, speak, or fend for herself. She could not be the adored youngest child of the family and hope to ever be treated as a woman.
Never had they told her they believed in her, because they didn’t. She did not even think they understood what it would have meant to her had they given her just a bit of credit, a bit of respect.
Strange, but knowing he believed in her made her want them to believe in her, too. She liked the feeling of confidence it inspired, hearing someone placed their faith in her.
She knew very well as she lifted Violet from her crib that he was more than likely only telling her what he felt she needed to hear, to bolster her as they descended the stairs and opened the front door. Yet she still appreciated it, for he was kind and thoughtful even while under a terrible amount of pressure. He still took the time to think of her.
She waited at the foot of the stairs while Landon went to the door.
“Courage,” she said with a smile in hopes of bolstering him as he had bolstered her.
He flashed a grateful grin before reaching for the doorknob and turning it.
It was now or never.
15
He told himself this was nothing more than a matter of jumping into a body of freezing water all at once, before common sense could stop him.
In such situations, common sense was a deterrent. It warned a person against leaping, against the cold their body was sure to suffer upon touching the water.
A man could spend his entire life dipping his toes into cold water, questioning himself, thinking he might be better off waiting for the water to warm up a bit.
It was far easier to get the deed over with straightaway, to jump in and allow the body to adjust as it would.
That was what he did when he opened the door to his home. He got it over with all at once.
“Wel
come!” he nearly shouted, and he hoped they would interpret this as eagerness rather than terror. “Welcome to our home.”
As ever, his parents spoke at once, their voices overlapping.
His father, always the practical one, strode inside while leaving his baggage on the porch. He removed his top hat, loosening the woolen muffler around his neck.
“This is hardly the first time we have seen your home, son. Have you forgotten?” He looked and sounded the same as he had the last time Landon saw him. Energetic, boisterous, in spite of the silver hair which threatened to overtake the black.
Meanwhile, his mother had truly heard what he said. “Our home?” She followed her husband, her step a bit less certain. She looked up at Landon, her blue eyes filled with questions.
It pained him to see a greater number of fine lines around the corners which wrinkled when she squinted through her round spectacles.
He nodded, grinning, lifting his arm to gesture toward the young woman and baby at the foot of the stairs.
Looking back at her, for just one moment he found himself believing that she was his wife, that this was all real. How proud he would be to call her his. She made a lovely image, the very picture of young motherhood.
“Mother, Father, I would like you to meet my wife, Cate. And your granddaughter, Violet.”
His parents’ reactions were predictable. Oliver remained in place, gaping at Cate and Violet. He was the type who took a moment to truly understand such occurrences before reacting.
Hermione, on the other hand, did not wait to remove her coat before hurrying across the hall. “My granddaughter?” she breathed, holding her arms out for the baby. “She is my granddaughter?”
Cate handled this beautifully, handing the baby over for inspection with a shy smile and a hint of color in her cheeks. “Yes, she is. This is Violet. She is two months old.”
A Bargain For A Bride (Westward Hearts Book 8) Page 10
