An Arranged Marriage

by Susan Fox

  But the things that made her different were turning out to be things that threatened him. She’d knocked him between the eyes with her little wedding night speech about wanting to love her husband with all her heart and hoping he’d love her at least as much.

  Because he didn’t want to love her, what she’d said had put a burden on him. He didn’t trust love, couldn’t depend on it. As pretty as she was, as gentle and refined as she was, it shocked him to realize that her expectations had made him a little wary of her. And the more he thought about what she’d said, the closer that wariness came to fear.

  Though he was a man who was used to hard times and had faced miles of life’s bad roads, fear was an emotion he hadn’t felt since he was a small child. And yet that old bugaboo had raised its ugly head. When she’d come out to the ranch that first time, her declaration about wanting to marry for love had started it. But by the time he knew she was his and she’d started the plans for the wedding, his old fears had slipped back into some forgotten crack in his feelings and stayed there.

  Until he’d heard her say, I hope to be able to love my husband with all my heart, and I hope he can love me at least as much…I want it to mean something profound…an expression of mutual love and tenderness and trust…

  The sick feeling had started again then. He could never admit to her that he also wanted those things, that he craved them—probably far more than she did. But the old wounds, which he’d thought had scabbed over and faded a long time ago, had opened up and started to ache.

  He’d tasted the first bitter tang of fear then. That old fear of hoping and needing and loving, then having all that hope and need and love burned away by indifference and want and hate.

  He didn’t trust love. He trusted a solid handshake, a signature on a legal paper, a good horse and the terrible power of a man’s heart to choose bad and do wrong.

  He didn’t trust Allison Lancaster Sumner. However sweet and perfect she was, he couldn’t afford to love her, though she was free to love him as much as she wanted. Being the gentle person she was, she’d probably be happier if she thought she was in love with him. But he could never love her. He couldn’t let himself.

  She belonged to him now. She was his wife, but someday, she’d leave and find someone more worthy of her, someone more refined and well-bred like herself. Some man who wasn’t afraid to love a woman and own up to it. A man who could truly love her back.

  When she left him, he didn’t want to hurt over it, he didn’t want to eat his heart out and crawl into a bottle. He’d keep his kids—he’d give them the love he’d had so little of—but he’d let their mother go.

  A fresh whiff of another old nemesis—despair—came in on his next breath. Clamping down hard on the feeling, he strode determinedly toward the house.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ALLISON was pleased by the fresh cut flowers in the crystal vase at one end of the dining-room table. The vase had been a wedding present. Two place settings of their new china, which had been a gift selected from her bridal registry, were set at the end of the long, polished table.

  Blue would be sitting at the head of the table, with Allison to his right. Several heights of brass candle holders flanked the flower arrangement, their lit candles setting a romantic mood beneath the dimmed light of the grand chandelier above.

  Allison had showered and changed into a flowing chiffon dress that was fitted at the bodice, then flared to a full, soft hem that ended just above her knees. The sleeveless dress with tiny rolled chiffon straps was several pale shades of yellow and was very feminine. It was one of the dresses Blue had bought for her in Dallas. She’d worn her hair up, with a few curly tendrils around her face and above her neck.

  Blue had come into the house a half hour ago. Edward had informed her that her new husband had gone up the back stairs and would be down for supper shortly.

  And so she waited, occasionally finding a reason to lean across the polished wood to adjust a bloom of the arrangement or slide a candle holder a fraction of an inch to a slightly better spot.

  Nerves made her fuss. Now that they were home, would Blue still be content to only sleep with her beside him? Would she still be content?

  The question heightened her edginess and sent a prickle of anticipation through her that made her glance toward the mantel clock over the fireplace at one end of the large room.

  The gift she’d planned to give Blue on their first night home—if she felt optimistic about things between them—lay next to his place setting on a satin square artistically rumpled to display the small box.

  Though she now doubted the wisdom of the gift, she left the gaily wrapped box where it was. The gift was as much a sentimental one as a valuable one. The gold cuff links with onyx settings had been her father’s.

  Her wedding gift to Blue, purchased with her own money, would be delivered the next day. Though she’d made arrangements for it prior to the wedding, she’d thought he would enjoy it more if they were home from their honeymoon before she gave it to him.

  Because he’d spent so lavishly on her during their honeymoon, she now regretted the planned wait.

  The mantel clock striking the half hour made her jump. At almost the same time, she heard Blue’s booted step in the hall.

  Blue walked into the formal dining room, caught off guard by the dim lighting. The light of the chandelier had been turned down in favor of the tall candles that sat on either side of the vase of flowers.

  His bride stood near the head of the table, the pretty yellow dress he’d bought her glowing as if it were faded sunlight. Allison was so beautiful she stopped his breath. He saw the anxious, hopeful look on her face and felt a rush of heat.

  The sense he had about her, that she’d begun to feel something for him, stirred his emotions. But a lifetime of craving love and never having it, sent a chill over him that froze everything tender in him except lust.

  He resisted the urge to touch her. Instead he passed the head of the big table and walked behind her to pull her chair out in a silent invitation for her to sit.

  The delicate, now familiar scent of her perfume wafted up to him. His fingers tightened on the chair back in silent resistance before they relaxed and fell away. He took his place at the head of the table and sat down.

  Blue’s rugged face was stern—as stern as she’d ever seen it. Once he seated her, Allison glanced in mute worry toward the small gift next to his plate, then forced herself to meet his gaze as he sat down. The fact that his expression didn’t alter made her force a pleasant smile. Perhaps something had gone wrong. But things had been going well between them that day. What had happened to change that?

  “Did everything with the ranch run smoothly while we were gone?” She couldn’t seem to help that her eyes wavered a fraction from his in the direction of the gift.

  His taciturn, “Smooth enough,” sent an edge of disappointment through her that she made herself ignore.

  “I had something I’d planned to give you on our first night home,” she said, then waited for him to notice the box. “It’s a sentimental sort of gift,” she went on, her nerves twisting tighter as she made a small gesture toward the box, then watched nervously as he looked toward the spot she’d indicated.

  Her soft, “They were my father’s,” nearly choked her.

  The breath she’d just taken felt as if it had caught in her chest. Blue’s stern features seemed to harden as he stared a moment at the gay ribbon and paper.

  The seconds that passed made the air around them grow heavy and dull. Blue didn’t react to the gift. He didn’t reach for it, he didn’t show a flicker of interest in it. Allison was suddenly filled with remorse.

  His gruff, “My thanks,” was the only appropriate reaction he made. The happy little box on the rumpled satin square now appeared forlorn. Allison’s emotions started on a slow slide downward.

  Edward appeared then with a large tray. Efficiently he served them both. His, “Will there be anything else madam…sir?” pr
ompted Allison to shake her head.

  Blue’s low, “Thanks, no,” made Edward disappear as quickly as he’d come in.

  Allison looked down at her plate. She reached for her linen napkin and spread it across her lap. Tense, battling hurt feelings because Blue seemed to have spurned her gift, her appetite vanished.

  Nevertheless, she picked up her fork and determinedly began to eat. The heaviness between them grew thicker. Tension made her feel stiff and awkward.

  Weeks of wedding preparations, days of being alone with Blue and finding potential for deep, loving feelings between them, suddenly seemed the foolishness of a romantic who had more fuzzy notions than common sense. Everything, from the wedding ceremony to their honeymoon and their return home to Blue’s grand ranch mansion, now seemed to have been no more than an elegant stage production of a doomed play. One with all the right costumes, all the right stage directions, but no real heart and no real story that would ensure it would last much past opening night.

  But Charles had bargained for a financial arrangement that he was almost certain to get, and Blue had gotten himself a sort of trophy wife that he’d chosen and virtually purchased so he wouldn’t have to bother to court her. Or bother to learn to.

  The sense that she’d been trapped into something far more difficult to solve than Charles’s troubles at the bank made her spirits swing lower. The reminder that she’d married Blue to ease her Aunt Pet’s worries made her feel only marginally better.

  She’d had such hopes. Blue’s reaction to her gift had crushed them and seemed a grim portent of things to come. He’d heard her tell him the gift had sentimental value, that it had belonged to her father. She’d confided to Blue days ago how close she’d been to both her parents. Surely he’d realized the importance of her giving him something that had once belonged to her father.

  It was inevitable that she’d start thinking about the gift that was coming tomorrow. If she felt regret and remorse for giving him the small gift, her regret and remorse for the second, much larger gift was even stronger.

  The door chimes sent a melody of rich, perfect tones into the silence of the large house. An unaccountable sense of dread seeped into her. Uneasy, she quietly set her fork down and lowered her hand to her lap as they heard Edward walk briskly down the hall to the entry and the front door.

  It seemed to take an eternity before he walked back down the hall and stepped into the dining room.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Charles Wallace to see you both, sir. They are waiting in the front parlor. I’ve informed them that you’re still sitting dinner and that I shall bring them a coffee tray while they wait.”

  Alarmed that Charles had burst in on them uninvited on their first night home, Allison’s gaze streaked to Blue’s face.

  His expression was stony. His low, “Thanks, Edward,” made the butler nod curtly before he started off down the hall to the kitchen for the tray.

  Allison couldn’t help watching Blue’s face as he finished with his steak and calmly reached for the coffee he’d preferred to wine. Though he didn’t say a word to her and didn’t lose his temper, it was clear he was angry.

  Charles’s pushiness had been honed over a lifetime of lording it over others. She knew suddenly that Blue might be one of the few people of her acquaintance who had the ability to push back. A life of hard living and scrambling to survive had no doubt made Blue quite formidable.

  The precarious position that placed Aunt Petula in sent a fresh breath of alarm through her. She might also be in the middle, but at least she was now Blue’s legal wife. Surely there was only so much he could do to her.

  Every worry she’d had about Blue’s possible desire for vengeance against Charles came storming up and she gripped the napkin on her lap with shaking fingers.

  “My apologies,” she said, her voice so soft it was barely above a whisper. “It’s really quite rude for uninvited guests to drop in, particularly since it’s our first night home. I hope—”

  “Worried that I’ll spoil the deal with Charles?”

  Those intense blue eyes of his shifted and met hers. The impact of that burning gaze made her quail inwardly. There was no mistaking his anger now.

  Her soft, “I don’t know what you’ll do,” seemed to have some small impact. The fire in his eyes eased for a moment, but then blazed even higher than before.

  “You got something you want to say to me before we go in there?”

  Blue’s question took her aback. “I don’t understand—is there something you want me to say?” She gave her head a small shake. “I’m sorry for the intrusion.”

  With a calm that was chillingly opposite the anger she sensed in him, Blue pulled his napkin off his lap and tossed it beside his plate. He slid his chair back and stood, then stepped over to pull her chair out for her.

  Allison wordlessly rose and laid her napkin aside. As she did, her gaze fell on the shiny little curls of ribbon that decorated the gift. The small bright cluster seemed to sparkle one last time, then fade. She made herself glance away, all too aware that the crisis ahead made everything too precarious to dwell on Blue’s rejection of her gift.

  Together they walked to the front parlor where Charles and Aunt Pet waited. The moment they stepped into the room, Charles ceased pacing the center of the floor and came straight toward Blue. Allison slowed, her attention going briefly to Aunt Pet, who was perched stiffly on the edge of a brocade chair.

  Charles’s smiling, boisterous, “Welcome home, Blue!” and his outstretched hand as he approached was met with cool silence. Instead of shaking Charles’s hand, Blue caught Allison’s elbow and prevented her from crossing the room to her aunt.

  “Miz Allis? Might be you and your aunt would like to have a private visit somewhere, catch up on things.”

  Blue’s suggestion sounded mild enough, but he was clearly ordering her to take her aunt elsewhere. Because Allison knew neither she nor Pet would be able to mediate anything between the two men, she said, “Yes, Aunt Pet. We did some shopping in Dallas. Perhaps you’d like to see what we bought.”

  Pet was so nervous that she immediately stood and came toward Allison. Her wary glance at Blue revealed her trepidation. As if she meant to stay out of arm’s reach, she kept a careful distance from him before she stopped with Allison slightly between them. Her properly worded, “Welcome home, Mr. Sumner, I hope you had a nice trip,” was accompanied by an uncertain smile.

  Blue merely nodded, his gaze shifting from Pet to her husband.

  Allison took her aunt’s hand and the two of them exited the parlor. Pet stepped closer to her as they walked toward the staircase, then glanced back as if to make certain they were safely out of earshot before she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Allison. I didn’t say a word to Charles about your return. I have no idea how he found out, but he refused to wait until tomorrow or Monday.”

  Allison squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry he didn’t wait, but there’s nothing either of us can do about it now.” She made herself smile and thought of a way to distract them both. “Let’s walk out to the garage first.” They bypassed the big staircase to walk down the hall to the back of the house. “Blue has been quite generous.”

  Even as she said the words and tried to give Pet the impression that she felt at ease about what was going on in the front parlor, Allison couldn’t help that she felt sick.

  She didn’t know what to expect from her new husband. Marrying a man she didn’t know gave her almost no confidence in what he’d choose to do about Charles and the bank. Charles had wronged Blue more than once. How could any of them expect him not to return the favor?

  The question caused a twinge at the back of her neck. It wasn’t long after she’d shown Aunt Pet her new car and they’d gone upstairs to see her new clothes, that the twinge began to intensify to an ache.

  Once they were in the master bedroom, Aunt Pet closed the door, turned to Allison and took hold of her hands.

  “Has he been decent to you, dear?”

 
Allison smiled. “Blue’s been quite decent to me, Aunt Pet. He’s really a polite man.”

  Petula gave her a searching look. “Forgive me for bringing this all up again, but…he’s not been brutish…in that way?” Her cheeks glowed a crimson color at her reference to sex.

  “Not at all, Auntie. He’s been very patient. He understands that we don’t know each other well enough yet.”

  “You’re certain?” Pet persisted anxiously.

  “I’m certain. Blue has been more a gentleman in some ways than a lot of men who are considered well-bred.” She smiled again to reassure her aunt.

  Pet stared deeply into her eyes a moment, then appeared to be satisfied with her answers. “All right, dear, but please, if there’s ever a moment that he mistreats you or you feel frightened of him, please don’t hesitate to come right home.” She gave Allison’s hands a firm squeeze. “And I mean that.”

  “Thank you,” Allison said softly, touched at her aunt’s concern for her, “but it won’t be necessary.”

  By the time Edward came upstairs to inform Aunt Pet that Charles was waiting in the front hall to leave, Allison’s headache was worse. It was all she could do to conceal her discomfort long enough for Pet to be gone so she could take something for it.

  The moment Pet left the bedroom, Allison went directly to the medicine cabinet in the master bath. She didn’t often get stress headaches, but when she did, they were excruciating. The well-stocked cabinet yielded several analgesics to choose from, and Allison quickly downed a full dose.

  She’d managed to weather the stress of the past few weeks, but Charles’s behavior that night—and her secret worry over what Blue would do about it—seemed to have been the last straw.

  She debated about going down to find out right away what had happened between Charles and Blue, but decided it was late enough now that Blue would be coming upstairs. She knew he meant to return to his early work routine now that they were home, so she assumed that also meant an early bedtime for him.