The Pregnant Bride

by Catherine Spencer

  “What’s to talk about?” she said, unmollified. “I thought you said all there was to say, last night.”

  “Last night wasn’t my finest hour.”

  “Well, this morning isn’t mine! At least not until I’ve brushed my teeth. And stop waving that food at me. Crackers and weak tea are all I can stomach this early in the day.”

  “So go brush your teeth and I’ll make your tea.”

  “Just stay out of the bathroom,” she said, tossing the warning over her shoulder as she headed down the hall. “I don’t need you keeping tabs on how well I floss!”

  She didn’t bother trying for a complete transformation this time. His opinion of her couldn’t sink any lower and it was going to take more than a change of clothes or a touch of lipstick to make him view her more favorably. In any event, he was no oil painting himself right now and so in no position to be critical.

  “I’ve put everything out in here,” he said when she showed up in the kitchen. “Your tea’s made and I found the crackers. And I must say that if this is your normal diet—”

  “It’s not,” she said shortly. “It just happens to help me get past the morning sickness brought on by the fact that I’m expecting your baby.”

  “Ah, yes, the baby.” He snapped the lid off one of the paper cups and helped himself to a pastry. “That’s one of the things I want to talk about. I have arrived at a decision.”

  Her hackles rose at the lordly proclamation. “Well before you award yourself the medal of honor, let me tell you that it isn’t going to matter one iota what you’ve arrived at if I don’t happen to agree with it.”

  He raised his dark level brows in reproof. “Are you always this crabby in the morning, sweet pea, or is it just another manifestation of pregnancy?”

  “It’s a manifestation of being at my wit’s end, if you must know! I’m about ready to burst a blood vessel!”

  “Then before you do yourself untold damage, allow me to explain. First, perhaps ‘decision’ wasn’t the best word.” He took a bite out of the pastry and munched reflectively. “Perhaps ‘solution’ will strike a less confrontational note.”

  “I doubt it, but go on,” she said cautiously.

  “The way I see things, your family and friends are going to have a feeding frenzy over your latest crisis. They’ll be merciless in doling out the pity and advice.”

  “If this is supposed to make me feel better, it’s not working,” she said, nibbling at a cracker and wondering how long she could keep it down. “I’ve already come to the same conclusion and I’d hardly call it comforting.”

  “So head them off at the pass. Show up with a husband.”

  This was his idea of a solution? “In case you haven’t noticed,” she said tartly, “they’re a vanishing species where I’m concerned. How do you propose I find one? By running an ad in the newspaper? Or shall I just stand on the street corner and lasso the first likely prospect who happens to pass by?”

  He favored her with what he no doubt considered a winning smile. “Neither. You’ve already got your man. I’m volunteering for the job.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous! You don’t even believe the baby’s yours.”

  He polished off the pastry and selected another. “Don’t judge me by the way I reacted last night. You caught me unprepared. We were together only that one night, after all.”

  “One night was obviously enough!”

  “Yeah,” he said smugly. “We’ll have to be more careful in future.”

  “There is no future,” she informed him. “At least not the kind you apparently have in mind. The most I ever wanted from you was an acknowledgment that you’re this baby’s father. I never asked or expected you to marry me.”

  “Don’t be so hasty in turning me down, Jenna. The idea has definite merit.” He took a mouthful of coffee. “The way I see it, we could both do a lot worse.”

  For a man who, just last night, had as much as told her she was on her own, he was being altogether too agreeable. “Both?” she said suspiciously. “Why, what’s in it for you?”

  He buried his nose in his coffee cup again and took his sweet time answering. “Let’s look at it from your viewpoint first,” he suggested, when he came up for air. “First, am I right in assuming you want to keep this baby?”

  “Of course I want to keep him! What did you think? That I intended to sell him? I love children! I’d have half a dozen if I could!”

  “Calm down, Jenna. I’m just trying to establish where you stand on this, that’s all.” He tossed his empty cup in the empty bag and helped himself to the one he’d bought for her. “So the big question surely is, wouldn’t it be easier for you and better for him if I was part of the equation and living under the same roof?”

  He couldn’t be serious! “It’s always better for a child to have two parents, Edmund, but for us to get married is preposterous. For a start, we aren’t in love.”

  “But we like each other,” he pointed out, “and good marriages have been based on much less. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say liking is more essential than being in love. And you can’t deny the physical chemistry between us. The sex that night at The Inn was great and at least you know my equipment works the way it’s supposed to, which is more than you can say about the last man you almost married.”

  “That still doesn’t explain what you’d get out of the deal.”

  “I was coming to that. The thing is, you’d be doing me a favor, too. You already know how I feel about Molly, but what you don’t know is that ever since the accident, I’ve been thinking of suing for full custody. The problem is that even if he can prove himself an exemplary father, a single man doesn’t stand much of a chance against a stay-at-home mother with a husband in tow. But if you and I were to make application, the odds might well swing in my favor, particularly if I were to produce documented evidence to support my very real concerns for my daughter’s well-being. Bud Horton might be able to keep Adrienne happy where I failed, but he’s also the one who backed a tractor over my daughter and damn near killed her. In light of that, I can’t see a judge dismissing my claim, can you?”

  “You’d go to such lengths just to have Molly living with you?”

  “If that’s what’s necessary to keep her safe.” He stretched out his hand and placed it flat against her stomach. “Wouldn’t you do the same if someone threatened the baby you’re carrying?”

  She closed her eyes. “I’d give my life, if I had to.”

  “There’s your answer then. So what do you say? Shall I go out and buy a licence and we’ll make it a fait accompli before you start sticking out a mile in front?”

  “No!” she cried. “I need to give this some thought before I make any decisions.”

  “What’s to think about? You get to save face and have two children for the price of one, and I get my daughter back. Seems to me neither of us has anything to lose and plenty to gain.”

  “What if Molly doesn’t like me? What if the courts don’t award you custody even though you’re married? Where does that leave us?”

  “They’re risks I’m prepared to take,” he said. “Don’t forget, I’ve got more at stake here than just winning custody of Molly. There’s another child to think of, too.”

  “Does that mean you now accept that you’re my baby’s father?”

  He shook his head ruefully and covered her hand with his. “I accepted that right away, sweet pea,” he said. “I just didn’t want to admit it. I told you once before, your face is an open book and the truth is there for anyone to read. Pigs would fly before you’d lie about something this important. So, do we have a deal?”

  Well, why not? It might not be a marriage made in heaven, but nor would it be made in hell. And truth to tell, the prospect of being Edmund Delaney’s wife caused a strange thrill to course through her blood.

  Still, instinct urged her to be cautious. “Perhaps,” she said. “But let’s try being engaged first and see how that works. I want to get to know
Molly and make sure she’ll accept me, and you ought to meet my family before you become legally tied to me. They won’t make the easiest in-laws.”

  “Okay. If that’s the way you want to play it, I guess we can afford to wait a bit longer. But I’m warning you now, Jenna, once I make up my mind about something, I don’t change it easily. And from where I stand, there’s no doubt this is the best solution for everyone involved, especially the children.”

  The children. In the end, everything came back to them.

  Edmund left about half past eight with the promise that he’d be back around six that evening, and the minute the door closed behind him, the doubts descended and the tug-of-war began.

  In terms of time together, they’d known each other less than a week. They were crazy to think they could base a marriage on such short acquaintance. It was almost indecent!

  You conceived his baby when you’d known him less than two days. Where was your sense of decency then?

  They weren’t in love.

  They were doing this for the children.

  He was using her as a means to gain custody of Molly.

  Wouldn’t she do the same, if the situation were reversed?

  Oh, yes! He’d scored a fatal shot when he’d asked her how she’d feel if she thought her baby was in danger. She knew without a doubt that she’d go to any lengths to protect her child.

  Then stop looking a gift horse in the mouth! You’ve made the commitment, now live up to it!

  A long nap, a hot bath, and a visit to a beauty salon to get her hair done went a long way toward boosting her belief that she was doing the right thing. The flower arrangement from Edmund—stargazer lilies and roses—delivered just after she returned to her apartment, didn’t hurt, either.

  If they both tried, they could make this work. They had to. For the sake of the children.

  She dressed in a pale green linen skirt and jacket, wore pearls around her neck and matching studs in her ears, and was ready when he knocked on her door again right on the dot of six.

  “My, my!” he drawled, eyeing her up and down. “Is it safe to assume, from the way you’re all gussied up, that the engagement’s still on?”

  “It is, unless you’ve got cold feet.”

  “Not a chance, Jenna. I already warned you, once I make up my mind, I stick with it. Which is why,” he said, producing a gold foil bag from his pocket and dangling it before her eyes, “I’ve been shopping. Are you going to ask me in, or do I have to drop down on one knee out here and beg you to accept my ring?”

  “Ring?”

  “To replace the one given to you by the unlamented rooster.”

  “Oh!” She pulled the door wide and ushered him inside. “Come in, of course. But a ring? You didn’t have to go that far!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s not necessary, given the circumstances.”

  “I don’t follow your reasoning,” he said, taking a seat next to her on the couch in her living room. “The circumstances are that you and I plan to get married very soon. It’s customary in such instances for the groom to give the bride a ring. You accepted Armstrong’s, so why not mine?”

  “Because what you and I are planning isn’t…the same.”

  “If, by that, you mean I won’t back out at the last minute, then you’re right. It isn’t the same.”

  “But it isn’t real.”

  “It’s real all right! As real as this.” And tipping the bag onto the coffee table, he let a velvet jeweler’s box roll out. “There,” he said, snapping open the lid so that she could view the contents. “What do you think of that?”

  A solitaire diamond of exquisite color and cut set in platinum and yellow gold winked up at her.

  “What do I think?” She pressed a hand to her throat in shock. “I think you’re out of your mind! This is far too extravagant. I’ll feel like a fraud wearing it.”

  “Get over that idea and fast,” he said evenly. “There’s nothing fraudulent about this marriage, Jenna, and I expect you to wear my ring as proof.” He took it from the box and dropped it into her hand. “Put it on and let’s see if it fits.”

  It did, so well that it might have been custom designed expressly for her. Everything about it was exquisitely perfect.

  “You shouldn’t have spent so much money,” she said, awed and bewildered by his generosity.

  “It was affordable,” he said brusquely. “Don’t make a big deal out of nothing. If you like it, I’ll have a wedding band made to go with it.”

  “Oh, I like it. I like it very much! What woman wouldn’t?”

  “Then it’s settled. Now let’s get down to business. First off, have you seen a doctor?”

  “A week ago last Wednesday,” she said, wishing he wouldn’t keep staring at her midriff as if he expected the baby to pop its head out and say hello. “I’m healthy and she doesn’t anticipate any problems. The baby’s due sometime between the end of January and the beginning of February.”

  “Okay. Next item—we need to find a place to live.” He cast a glance around the room. “This is a beautiful apartment but it’s not designed for children. We’ll have to look for a house. Any particular area you fancy?”

  “I haven’t given the matter any thought.”

  “What about style? Old? New? Rancher? Two story?”

  “Edmund, I don’t know! And I think you’re rushing things too much. We aren’t even sure this arrangement’s going to work out.”

  “It’ll work out,” he informed her flatly. “I won’t have it any other way. What about a wedding date?” He inspected her waistline again. “How long before you start bulging?”

  “I don’t know. In case you weren’t aware, I’ve never done this before.”

  “Don’t pout, Jenna,” he said. “It doesn’t suit you.”

  “Then stop pushing me so hard!”

  “It’s for your own good.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “We’re engaged,” he said patiently, as if she were none too bright. “Engaged couples discuss these things. When people hear about us, they’ll ask us what our plans are and they’ll expect answers.”

  “Well, I think getting to know each other a bit more should take precedence. I still couldn’t tell people much about you, if they were to ask.”

  “Sure you could,” he said, a wicked, indecent gleam in his eye. “You could tell them I’m a real pistol in the sack and that we make beautiful music together.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, then snapped it closed again as the intercom buzzed announcing she had another visitor waiting to be let into the building’s main door. Flinging him a repressive glare, she went to answer.

  A moment later, she came back to where he sprawled on the couch as if he owned the place. “You might want to think of some other reason I find you so fascinating,” she said faintly. “That was my mother. She’s on her way up.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  JENNA looked about ready to bolt—headfirst off the balcony, if necessary. “So what’s the big deal?” he said. “From the look on your face, anyone would think we’d been caught romping naked in the street.”

  “You haven’t met my mother!” More rattled than he’d ever seen her, she flitted around the room, whisking the jeweler’s bag and box into a desk drawer, fluffing the cushions he’d disturbed, repositioning the flowers he’d sent so that the vase sat exactly in the middle of the coffee table.

  “You haven’t met mine, either,” he said, “but I can promise you that when you do, I won’t start running in ever diminishing circles and foaming at the mouth. Calm down, for Pete’s sake! She can’t be that bad.”

  She was that bad and worse! Bleached, permed, thin as a rail, and doing her best to pass herself off as closer to forty than sixty, she breezed into the apartment on a wave of perfume that just about knocked him over. “Your father and I are having dinner downtown and thought we’d get you to join us. He couldn’t find parking so he’s waiting in the car,
” she chirped fruitily, then skidded to a halt when she clapped eyes on him. “Good gracious, it never occurred to me you’d be entertaining, Jenna. I trust I haven’t come at an inconvenient time?”

  Both her tone and expression suggested she’d walked in on something too bawdy to bear the light of day.

  “Well,” Jenna said, looking as if she was going to throw up again any second, “as a matter of fact, Mother, Edmund and I were in the middle of something.”

  “Edmund?” Eyebrows plucked into near extinction shot up to meet fluffy blond bangs. Pale blue eyes skewered him.

  “Edmund Delaney.” Jenna waved a distracted hand in introduction. “This is my mother, Valerie Sinclair, Edmund.”

  He moved a little closer to Jenna and stroked her back reassuringly. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Sinclair. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Which was a lie, but who was counting!

  “It’s more than I can say of you,” she replied frostily, nostrils pinched with displeasure at the familiar way he was pawing her firstborn. “I’ve never heard Jenna mention your name.”

  Jenna’s insides gave an ominous gurgle. “That’s because Edmund and I…haven’t…um…”

  She petered into silence and flung him a beseeching look.

  “Broadcast our relationship,” he finished for her, pasting on his most obsequious smile. “We wanted to keep it just between the two of us a bit longer, but now that you’ve caught us, I guess we might as well go public. We were discussing wedding plans. Jenna just agreed to marry me.”

  Valerie Sinclair spared him a glance which, though brief, conveyed her opinion that he needed a lobotomy in the worst way, then fixed Jenna in a beady-eyed stare. “What’s he talking about?”

  “I’d have thought it was plain enough, Mother,” she said, groping for his hand. “Edmund and I are engaged.”

  “I see. And where does that leave Mark?”

  “Nowhere,” Jenna said firmly. “I’ve tried telling you that for weeks, Mother, and you refused to believe me.” She thrust out her left hand to show off the diamond. “Maybe this will convince you otherwise and prove that I, at least, have moved on to better things.”