Kate had no idea who he was but obviously he saw her as a no-nonsense intellectual, a bluestocking pursuing a career in a man’s world. As a woman who cared nothing for romantic love.
The situation would have been laughable if it wasn’t so very sad.
“So what do you think?” Colin turned to her and before she could respond, he took her hand. “Should we join forces, Kate? For Belle Fleuve and the children?”
She was twenty-nine and had no other marriage prospects. She’d never wanted anyone else. Adding Marie and Damian’s fears and concerns for their future along with her promise to Amelie, Colin’s proposal made her wonder if perhaps a marriage of convenience might be the best thing for all of them.
Is a one-sided love enough? she wondered. Did she have enough love in her heart for both of them?
Before Amelie died the old Kate would have found the courage to hope that one day she and Colin might fall in love like Marie and Patrick. Sitting beside Colin in the dappled sunlight on the porch of the abandoned cabin, she missed the old Kate — the Kate who refused to take no for an answer, the Kate who believed dreams did come true. That Kate wouldn’t have hesitated to try. She wouldn’t have had to convince herself that a marriage for the sake of the children to the man she already loved would work. She would have believed.
She would never know unless she tried.
“When?” she asked.
“As soon as possible, I suppose.”
“I’m sure there are formalities. A minister. Not until the weekend, for certain.”
“Does that mean yes?”
At last she met his eye and managed a smile.
“That means yes.”
She had once dreamed of being wed in a beaded gown of ivory silk faille and Valenciennes lace. On the day of her wedding, however, Kate wore a black satin mourning gown with three-quarter sleeves and black satin-covered buttons. There would be no honeymoon trip, no grand reception, no teas held in the coming days so that she might gather a circle of society friends.
The morning of her wedding, she and the children had gathered ferns and flowers and palm fronds and arranged them in large ceramic crocks around the room. Coffee and fruit ambrosia would be served immediately after the simple ceremony, which was performed by a local minister and witnessed by the Boltons. Eugenie and Simon and the children were there to watch Kate and Colin exchange their vows in the larger of the two sitting rooms. The entire ceremony lasted less than eight minutes.
When the minister pronounced them man and wife, Marie and Damian started clapping and jumping up and down. The minister hushed them with a stern eye before he turned to Colin and announced, “You may kiss the bride.”
Kate hadn’t thought past saying “I do.” In fact, the days before the ceremony seemed to pass as if in a dream. Throughout the exchange she tried to focus on the minister but found that nearly impossible. She’d handed her spectacles to Marie at the last minute. The preacher stood before her in a haze.
After an awkward pause, Colin gently touched her elbow and Kate slowly turned to him. She barely made out that he was smiling, but she felt his hesitancy.
She nodded ever so slightly. He reached for her, held both her hands, and tugged her closer. He lowered his head and gave her a quick, chaste kiss. For a moment she thought it was over, but before she knew it he was kissing her again, slower this time and with more feeling. It wasn’t her first kiss, but it was the first to make her tingle all the way to her toes.
When Colin finally drew back, his face was a blur. Was he as shocked as she?
“Congratulations, Colin.” Jason startled Kate back to reality as he began to pump Colin’s hand.
Cora and Eugenie crowded close to congratulate Kate. Marie pressed Kate’s glasses into her hand. Kate slipped them on as Damian wedged his way into the circle to stand beside the men.
The small knot of well-wishers surrounding her was her family now. A lightness of spirit that she hadn’t known in weeks came over her. Kate found herself smiling at Colin. He nodded and smiled back. A shiver ran down her spine at their silent exchange.
Belle Fleuve was finally her home. Without Amelie, though, her joy was tempered.
“Everything’s ready in the dining room,” Eugenie announced. “I’m sure Miz Bolton would like to set down a spell.”
Cora patted her extended belly and sighed. “Not much longer, Eugenie. In fact, I think all this excitement might just hurry this child along.” She sounded nervous as she added, “I hope I can still count on your help.”
“You just send for me and I’ll be there,” Eugenie said.
The children ran ahead, followed by the minister and then the other adults. Cora and Kate trailed Jason and Colin, who spoke of business as usual. As Kate studied Colin’s broad back she nearly pinched herself to be certain she wasn’t dreaming.
Eugenie served the coffee and ambrosia. The minister chatted with them long enough to be polite and then excused himself saying he had a list of ailing congregation members to visit that afternoon.
Colin walked him out, and when he rejoined them, Kate could tell he needed to rest his ankle. She ushered him over to an empty chair.
“I suppose I’ll have to get used to you bossing me around,” he teased. “Now that you are my wife.”
“I suppose so.”
Cora turned to Jason and announced, “It’s time we left these newlyweds to themselves.” She then invited Kate over to the foreman’s house at a later date. “I can’t wait for you to see the progress Jason has made. We’re nearly ready to move in.”
Eugenie took the children out to the kitchen, and Simon asked if there was anything they needed. When both Kate and Colin said no, he excused himself as well.
Suddenly Kate and Colin were sharing an empty sitting room as large as a hotel lobby.
“I’m sorry I don’t have a ring to give you.” Colin’s voice echoed in the almost empty room.
“It’s not necessary. Really.”
Colin was watching her intently. Whenever they’d had a chance to talk this past week they’d spoken of nothing but business. She was working on preliminary plans to show Jamison next week. Colin kept her apprised of Bolton’s progress at the foreman’s house. They had conferred twice over how best to ensure Damian and Marie’s schooling.
But not once had they broached how to handle the intimacies of their wedding night. Kate had no idea whether or not Colin expected her to fulfill her wifely duties. Theirs was a partnership, a marriage of convenience and not a love match, but he was a man and she was his wife. Their union had been sealed by a minister and witnessed by friends. He had every right to expect her to fulfill her wifely duties, and she would never deny him — if they had married for love.
Her face flamed at the very notion of what Colin might expect of her tonight. She certainly wasn’t expecting any romantic fantasy. Technically, she knew what was supposed to happen in a marriage bed but wasn’t sure exactly how to go about it.
The days were growing shorter faster. The sun was already low in the afternoon sky, and the shadows were deepening in the room. Kate shivered and rubbed her shoulders, chilled more by nerves than from the evening air.
“I’ll get Simon to light a fire.” Colin started to rise.
“That’s not necessary.” How long would they feel compelled to share the awkward silence? A lifetime?
When Eugenie walked in, Kate was so happy she practically ran across the room to greet her.
“You’re invited to the gallery overlookin’ the garden,” Eugenie made a slight bow. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Before Kate could say anything, Eugenie walked out.
Colin rose slowly. Kate handed him his cane.
“Do you know what this is all about?” she asked.
“No, but shall we go see?” He offered his arm.
As Kate slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow she was flooded with warmth.
“Are you all right, Kate?”
“Yes, why?�
� she asked without looking up at him.
“Your cheeks are very flushed. I hope you aren’t coming down with a fever.”
Perhaps a fever would save her from tonight.
They walked outside, where twilight was gathering in the garden, to find the gallery lit with the stubs of twenty candles protected by glass jars, which were placed here and there on the bricks and column bases. A small table set for two was near the garden edge of the gallery. A mended tablecloth was covered with the best pieces of mismatched china and cutlery Eugenie had been able to rustle up.
Simon had donned a faded but formally cut black jacket and was waiting to serve them. Eugenie was holding one of Kate’s wraps. She slipped the wool shawl around Kate’s shoulders.
“I made a special wedding supper for you,” Eugenie told them. “I thought seein’ as how this is a special evenin’ you might enjoy a candlelight supper out here like Miz Marie and Mr. Patrick liked to do.”
Kate knew the minute she saw all the candles and the table that Eugenie had tried to recreate one of the Delanys’ romantic evenings, the kind she once secretly dreamed of sharing with Colin.
The only thing missing tonight was love.
Kate hadn’t time to dwell on the truth as Colin thanked Eugenie and slowly escorted Kate to the table. Kate thought of the nights she and Amelie had spied on Marie and Patrick and missed her friend with a bittersweet ache.
Once they were seated, Eugenie watched over Simon as he poured amber liquid into their wine glasses.
“Where did this come from?” Colin asked.
Still mute, Kate tried to quell her nervousness.
“I made it from dandelions,” Eugenie told them. “Been hoping we’d have a special occasion to celebrate someday. There’s been enough sadness around here to last a lifetime.”
Colin tasted his and nodded. “Not bad, Eugenie. Perhaps we can go into the wine business as well as cane.”
“Simon will serve crawfish étouffée while I keep those children busy to give you some privacy,” Eugenie said to Colin.
Butterflies warred in Kate’s stomach.
As promised, Simon soon appeared with two steaming dishes of étouffée over rice along with warm bread and butter. Kate took a sip of wine but had no appetite. She forced herself to take a few bites of buttered bread and tried to marshal her missing courage.
She set down her fork and looked at Colin.
“Do you remember your parents’ candlelight dinners out here?”
He studied the table and surrounding gallery ablaze with candles in jars.
“They always used the tall silver candelabra, crystal, china, and fine linens.” He shook his head. “Everything they treasured is scattered to the four winds.”
“I like to think they would have been just as happy without those things.”
“Is living here like a church mouse a novelty for you, Kate?”
“If you think this is a game to me, you don’t know me very well.”
He smiled. “Finally.”
“Finally what?”
“I’ve been waiting for a glimpse of that gumption, waiting for some sign that the Kate who stormed the garçonnière not long ago is still in there somewhere.”
Unnerved to be so captivated by his smile, Kate studied a particularly large crawfish on her plate.
“I wasn’t an infant when my birth parents died. I still remember being poor quite well. My parents fled the Irish famine and died in the yellow fever plague.” She touched the rim of her plate, too nervous to take another bite.
“What of your sister?” he asked between bites. “The one left at the orphanage with you.”
Kate stared into a candle flame trapped inside a jar. “She was adopted shortly after we arrived there. She was younger, only four, and very beautiful. I’ve no idea what happened to my older sisters.”
“Older sisters?” Colin rested his fork on the edge of his dinner plate and studied her carefully.
She blushed and nodded. “Lovie and Megan. My uncle told us they were taken in by a wealthy family and were living like princesses.” She shrugged. “I suppose that’s why I wasn’t in awe of the Keenes’ wealth when they adopted me. I expected to be as lucky.”
He was finishing off what was left on his plate. If he noticed she hadn’t had more than a few bites he didn’t comment on it. Kate filled the silence.
“I tried to find them but there’s no record of them anywhere. Sometimes I’m surprised they haven’t ever looked for me, but then again, the war turned everything upside down.” She shrugged. “Who knows where they are or even if they are still alive.”
“Maybe you’ll find them one day.” Colin finished his wine and leaned back.
“Maybe so. No matter what, I’ll always remember them.”
He frowned and gazed over the land, which was now bathed in darkness. “Do you really think Jason and I can bring in a crop next year?”
“Of course.”
“You say that without hesitation.” His voice low, he added, “I wish I was as certain.”
If only she were as certain about their future together. Uncertainty about what was to come tonight overshadowed everything else in Kate’s mind. Colin seemed perfectly at ease as he finished his meal. But, skittish as a frog on a hot griddle, Kate ate very little and declined coffee when Simon offered it.
Simon had just served Colin a cup of coffee and a plate of almond cookies when they heard a shout followed by a loud thud inside. Then they heard Marie scream.
Kate jumped to her feet and dashed across the gallery and into the dining room. Marie was at the far end of the room kneeling beside Damian. The boy lay spread-eagle on his back staring at the ceiling. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, and his hand still clutched the handle of his wooden sword.
“Is he dying? Help him, Aunt Kate!” Marie leapt to her feet.
Frantic, Kate knelt beside Damian, but he didn’t move. She heard Colin limp up behind her.
“What happened?” he demanded.
Marie cried, “He was jumping off the sideboard but he slipped off the edge and landed on his back. Is he dead?”
Suddenly, the boy’s mouth began to open and close, but he didn’t say a word.
“Damian.” Colin was calm but firm. “Damian, look at me.”
Slowly, Damian rolled his eyes toward Colin.
“Oh, Colin, do you think his neck is broken?” Afraid to touch him, Kate fought the urge to pull the boy into her arms.
“I think he’s knocked the wind out of himself,” Colin said. “Breathe, Damian. Take a slow, deep breath. You’re all right.”
Damian focused on Colin. His chest rose and fell. Tears replaced the fright in his eyes.
“Are you all right?” Kate brushed the dark curls back off his forehead.
Finally, Damian nodded. Gasping for breath and crying in earnest, he tried to sit up. Kate took his hands and pulled him up with care. She wrapped her arms around him.
“I think it’s time you surrendered your sword,” Colin said.
Damian let out a wail. “How will I storm the bulwarks or carouse like a real pirate without a sword?”
“You are not to storm the bulwarks or carouse, especially in the house.”
“You could have been killed.” Marie was white as parchment, her hands fisted at her sides.
Kate took one of Marie’s hands but kept an arm around Damian.
“Damian is just fine. He simply knocked the wind out of himself.”
Colin asked the boy, “Is this the first time this has ever happened to you?”
Damian wiped his face and nodded.
“Then let’s hope it’s your last. Now, do as I say and hand over your sword for safekeeping.”
Damian’s lip quivered. “Will I get it back?”
When Kate saw the corner of Colin’s lips twitch and knew he was holding back a smile her heart did a somersault.
“Only if you can obey the rules of your pirate commander.”
“You mean
Aunt Kate?”
“I mean me.”
“Oh.” Damian reached for his sword. He cradled it for a moment. “Simon worked very hard to make this for me.”
“I’ll take good care of it.” Colin took the sword and tucked it under his arm.
“Will it be a long time before I can have it back?”
“That depends on how well you follow the rules around here. Show us you’ve given up leaping off the furniture, and you’ll be a buccaneer again before you know it.”
Damian let Kate help him to his feet to dust him off. Marie kept an eye on her brother as if she thought he might keel over again. Damian tugged up his pants and straightened his shirt.
Marie finally separated herself from Kate and took Damian’s hand.
“I’ll help you upstairs,” she said.
Before the unarmed pirate left the room he stopped and looked up at Colin.
“You were nicer before you got married,” he said.
“Just remember,” Colin said, “it was your idea.”
Colin hoped Kate hadn’t taken his words as an insult.
“You know I didn’t marry you simply because the children insisted,” he said as soon as the children were out the door.
“I know how complicated this is.”
He looked at the sword and shook his head.
“So much for our first crisis. I think we handled it very well, don’t you?”
“Do you mean for two people who have no idea what they are doing?”
“Speak for yourself.”
“By the way, when were you promoted to commander?”
When Colin saw the sparkle in her eyes he was happy for another glimpse of the old Kate.
“It was a self-appointment,” he said.
Her smile faded too quickly.
“When I saw him lying there like that …” She didn’t go on, but her silence said more than words.
“It scared me too. But having been a boy once myself, I’m fairly certain this won’t be the last time he gets hurt.”
“I’m not sure I can take many scares like that.”
“I’ll be here to help.”
“Will you?”
He nodded.
An awkward silence lengthened, much like the moments that had passed between them outside.
Heart of Glass Page 16
