Mr. Montgomery had glowered at her most of the time at the dinner table. Though he did not intimidate her, it was still uncomfortable to have his blatant hostility directed at her. Yet, with no outward sign did she let him know that he rankled her. Sterling had pushed his food around on his plate, barely eating. For some reason, she’d known that if she allowed herself to show one sign of weakness, any at all, Mr. Montgomery would find some way to use it to his advantage. She thought of Mevrouw Ter Bane. If she were a matchmaker, she’d pair those two together and watch to see which one would dominate the other.
“You will be attending church with us, won’t you?” he’d asked as Gijs took away their dishes.
“Of course.”
“What is your denomination?” He barked at her.
“Reformed,” she told him. “Although I place little value on denominational divides as much as relationship with the Almighty.”
His brow had arched at that. “Have you heard about what happened here in ’57? The dissension?”
“Yes, Mevrouw Ter Bane told me on the way here today.”
“Do you agree with it?”
They spoke about the doctrinal split that ripped the community. The Dutch were a family-oriented race. Committed to their God, their country, their family, and their commitments to each other. Though she agreed with neither side, she hoped that one day, they would come back together again as one unit.
“You’re incredibly learned for a woman,” Mr. Montgomery grumbled out as she expanded on a section of scripture which both sides of the dissension had quibbled over.
“Magnificent,” Sterling had added, a light of pride in his eyes. “She’d be a better preacher than I would.”
“Don’t speak such nonsense,” Mr. Montgomery snorted. “Women can never lead and preach in church.”
“Oh?” Moira had arched a brow. “Pray then: what was Deborah doing when she judged the nation of Israel? Plucking chickens?”
Mr. Montgomery shoved away from the table, his eyes cold and hard. “You’ve a sharp tongue, young lady. You may have married my son but I assure you, I am still the master of this house. Be careful how you respond and talk to me.”
Her mouth had pressed into a thin line. “As long as you afford me the same courtesy.”
His nostrils had flared like a horse and with a last glare he’d got up. “I’ll be at Mrs. Cooke’s home, Sterling. She asked me to pray for her daughter who is sick. Don’t wait up for me.”
Once he left the table, and she heard the slam of the door, she slumped against the back of the chair, feeling drained.
“How can you handle my father like that?” Awe had filled his voice. “You barely flinched. And your words and insights into the scripture—truly thought provoking.”
“Each of us are called to know the holy scriptures for ourselves. We can’t depend solely on each other for enlightenment.”
“I’ve never seen my father challenged like that. Perhaps I should call you my warrior angel.”
They laughed together and spent the rest of the evening in each other’s company.
“I’m glad you had my things sent for,” she told him as they started up the stairs. Earlier that day Sterling had sent his man Gijs to Mevrouw Ter Bane’s home to pick up the rest of her things. She’d no desire to go back to that woman’s home although she knew sometime soon, she’d be seeing her to make the first payment of her debt.
“Oh my,” she breathed out, rubbing her arms as a sudden chill skittered over her skin, coming out of her memories. The matchmaker had known exactly what she was doing when she paired her and Sterling together. Mr. Montgomery, if he knew about her past, would use it to cause trouble for Sterling. She couldn’t allow that to happen.
She was his angel.
Moira got up and went back to the bed and pulled the covers all the way to her chin. The one memory she tried to hide away had been the kiss they shared.
She closed her eyes, remembering the way that his blond lashes lay against his pale cheekbones. Her mouth had prickled slightly from the faint scratch of his hair above his upper lip. His masculine scent which enveloped her. The tender onslaught of his mouth pressed to hers.
Her first kiss with the man she’d always wanted to experience it with. And he was her husband. When she had agreed to marry Sterling Montgomery by proxy, she had prepared herself to accept his touch. After all, she wanted children like most women did.
But things had become complicated with their reunion.
She turned to the side, thinking of what Sterling had said a few hours ago when he escorted her to her room. “I’ve no intention of exercising my marital rights, Moira. Although we’re married, I want to court you as if we weren’t. If I ever gain your trust and regard again, then, perhaps, we will stop pretending we’re just courting.”
A hungry look came into his eyes then. The heat of it struck an odd note in her, like her own heart clamored up in a desire to assuage his appetite.
He leaned forward and spoke gently into her ear, his warm breath sending a tingling sensation along the curve of her lobe. “You will always be my angel, Moira. Yet, you’re more alluring now than you were at ten and three. You are my temptress, weaving a most curious spell upon me. I hope soon, I may fall prey to your temptations.”
Moira’s cheeks flamed in the semi-lit darkness. Yes, things had definitely changed from ten years ago. The boy had grown into a man who had a man’s appetite for his wife. And what of her? Could she ever let Sterling get that close to her? Though she understood more clearly the circumstances which had encumbered him from seeking her out, she saw the way he nearly capitulated to Mr. Montgomery.
If a man couldn’t stand up to his father, how could he defend her? Should she just give herself to him for the sole purpose because she was his wife?
No, it would take more than words for her to succumb to his embrace. Just as it would take more than before she would admit that even now, with their challenges between them, that she had never, ever stopped loving him.
CHAPTER FIVE
By the time the line of parishioners dwindled to a few people, Moira knew she wasn’t cut out to be a minister’s wife.
The congregation of Elder Collingsworth’s church had swelled to near bursting. People came from all over to be a member of his church. Why so many came was a mystery to her but, if she had to look at it from merely that angle, she understood why an ambitious man like her father-in-law wanted to be named successor to such a congregation.
Standing next to Sterling in the receiving line, she plastered yet another smile on her face and accepted the welcome from another couple. She had no idea what they were saying. All she wanted to do was go back home. Although maybe she could call the house where she lived a battlefield.
Mr. Montgomery, at every opportunity did his best to ridicule her. From critiquing her clothes to how she handled the household, he had something disparaging to say to her. Every dinner at the table was grounds for war. Skirmishes between them filled with subtle sarcasm or blatant insult.
Each night, she went to her room, licking her wounds like some pathetic animal. Though she decided not to show weakness before her father-in-law, it tired her out. After all, life wasn’t meant to be a constant battle with one’s family.
Today, while he stood before the congregation and preached his sermon, she had to admit he preached well. She found nothing wrong with his theology. Any differences from her own point of view were minor.
Then later as they stood in the receiving line, Mr. Montgomery’s countenance was completely different from what she was used to seeing.
Women came to him and thanked him for his prayers. Boys darted and skidded to his feet to ask for an opportunity to go fishing or hunting with him. Older people welcomed his advice.
As she stood by and watched her father-in-law, she realized how much he actually enjoyed being a minister. He laughed, smiled, and ruffled the hair of the children. The more people who came to him, seeking his attention
, the more he basked in it.
It was like watching a fish take to water. This was his calling.
Sterling, on the other hand, tried to do his best to hide behind her. His smile, more often than not, was a tense, crooked thing that barely showed his teeth. There was no doubt in her mind that her husband wanted to get away from the congregation as soon as possible.
He wasn’t cut out for this type of life. How could she, who had lived with him for less than a week, see his discomfiture but not his father. Didn’t Mr. Montgomery understand what he was doing? Putting a too tight shoe on a big foot?
It made her understand her husband a bit more. Often when she sparred with his father, he remained in the background. He rarely defended her, only sought to try to placate the both of them. Moira wished he would be stronger.
But then, maybe she wasn’t being fair. Sterling was a gentle man, a thoughtful one. More often than not, he preferred their own company or his friend, Jasper, who came by often.
Her husband had no occupation that he attended to daily. The family wealth came from his deceased mother’s inheritance. Mr. Montgomery had more or less let the manager, whom he hired to oversee the lumber business, manage it with little input from him. She found it a pity that neither knew about their business, how it operated, or anything else about it for that matter.
Having grown up with a man such as her father, who had his finger in many pies across the country, Griffin Wellington would never be so blind as to not know what his business interests entailed. That lack of accountability, the dearth of responsibility had to have added to her husband’s disposition.
Add his overbearing, dominant father, and it was no wonder Sterling hadn’t married Lavinia when his father first told him to.
“Looks like you survived the wrath of the Revered One, Mevrouw Montgomery.”
Jasper came to stand in front of her, his eyes dark with the perpetual cynicism. “I didn’t think you could, but I have underestimated you.”
“Revered One?’
He gave a nonchalant shrug. “All who bow at his feet must revere him.”
She shook her head. “How well you know my father-in-law.”
“I do. Don’t believe for a moment I’m not aware of the way things are at home. Sterling may not be the strong man of a young girl’s fairytale dreams but once he sets his mind to something, nothing, not even his father, will sway him.”
“Is that so?” The many barbs she and Mr. Montgomery shared rose up to taunt her.
“He refused to pursue Lavinia, didn’t he? Believe me, it took a lot to convince him to get married but nothing in the world would have made him marry her.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
Again, he gave that careless shrug. “Even I can appreciate the hand of God in your marriage. It means your marriage has been truly orchestrated by the Almighty.”
That fact hadn’t escaped her in the past few days.
“Would that the Almighty would take such an interest in my own life.” The cynicism momentarily left his eyes while a bleak expression entered them. “I don’t ask much, just one small thing. It seems as if I am to be always denied.”
Having never seen Jasper in any other way than the flippant disdain, she was shocked into asking, “What is it you have been denied?”
“That is between me and the Almighty, is it not? Surely He knows?” Now the bleakness had turned to anger. Then he glanced behind her and the anger left his eyes as swiftly as it had come. His familiar bored mien once again dominated his face.
“Ah, so you’re Sterling’s bride.”
The voice came from behind her, smug and full of husky, feminine malice. Without ever having seen her, Moira knew exactly who it was that had spoken. Dismissing Jasper’s strange behavior for the moment, she turned around, “And you must be Lavinia Collingsworth.”
Beauty had found a home in this woman, Moira acknowledged in some surprise. She knew she herself was considered to be lovely but Lavinia practically personified it. Dark, lustrous hair, flawless ivory skin, a red rose mouth, and brilliant blue eyes.
Her tip-tilted eyes narrowed at Moira. “I see you know my name. You must have heard so much about me.”
How could she not when Mr. Montgomery went on at every opportunity to detail how inadequate Moira was compared to her.
“Yes. Pleased to meet you.”
They each gave a light curtsy of greeting. Next to her, stood a tall man with dark brown hair and light-colored eyes. A beaky nose dominated his face but he was attractive in his own right.
“Welkom,” the man beside her greeted. “Mijn naam is Bernard van Vonderen.”
Moira responded in kind, then switching to English. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mijnheer Van Vonderen.”
“I’m rather pleased to meet you as well. I had no idea you existed until Juffrouw Collingsworth related it to me today. Every happiness to you both.”
“Dank u,” Moira wondered if she would have every happiness with her husband.
Sterling had come to stand by her side. “Van Vonderen. Lavinia, you’re looking well.”
“Van Vonderen, is there something you need?”
Mr. Montgomery had stepped up to their group, a smile on his lips but not in his eyes.
“Wonderful sermon today, Dominee Montgomery. Very moving.” He lifted an arrogant eyebrow. “We won’t keep you. I’ll be escorting Juffrouw Collingsworth to her home to share in a meal with Ouderling Collingsworth. He is on the mend, by the way.”
Moira felt her father-in-law’s tension and his anger almost like a moist blanket. “I am aware of our leader’s state of health. I shall be visiting him later on today.”
“Geweldig! I have the ouderling’s permission to take Juffrouw Collingsworth on a short ride so we may not see you there.”
“I see.” The smile slipped from Mr. Montgomery’s face.
“Reverend Montgomery, do you think you can come by later on this week?” Lavinia invited. “Father and I will want to speak to you about some matters. Any day will do.”
“As you wish.”
“Thank you,” she responded prettily. Her blue eyes returned to Moira. “It was wonderful to meet you. Many blessings on your marriage. When my father is well enough to receive visitors, I’m sure he’d like to make your acquaintance.”
“I’ll look forward to that.”
Someone from behind called Lavinia’s name and she excused herself, telling Mijnheer Van Vonderen that she’d meet him outside.
Mr. Montgomery eyed Mijnheer Van Vonderen the same way he often eyed her…like he was studying a bug. But there was something more behind his stare as he and the young man eyed each other. For a moment, just a brief moment, she thought of two stallions fighting over a mare.
But the mare in this case wasn’t a woman; it was the role of successor for the church.
“Sterling, so glad you’ve finally given up on Lavinia. There isn’t a minister in Holland who doesn’t understand that marriage to Lavinia is the most surefire way to gain the pulpit.”
He gave an arrogant smirk. “And it will be me.” He tipped his hat to them. “Daag.”
They all watched him leave. Mr. Montgomery fairly bristled by her side, his rage a tangible thing that made the hairs along her arms stand erect.
“I feel bad for Lavinia, you know?” Jasper said to break the silence.
“Why is that?” Sterling asked as he came and took Moira’s hand into his own. Despite his timidity with his father, whenever he touched her, she always felt so protected.
“Well, most of the ministers, or the ones in training like Van Vonderen, only see her as a means to an end. We all know Elder Collingsworth is going to go meet his Maker sometime. She’ll never be wanted for herself. Just for who her father is and the ‘dowry’ if you will, of this church.”
“Except me,” Sterling replied. “I never wanted to marry her.” He looked down at Moira. “I’m so glad I didn’t.”
Mr. Montgomery pivoted arou
nd and stomped away.
“Shall we go now? Everyone has left and I’m sure Father will do what he needs to do around the church.”
Moira nodded and they all got into the carriage and made their way back to their home. Jasper had come with them so they kept up a desultory conversation until they arrived back at the house.
When they had all settled in the drawing room, waiting for Gijs to bring them coffee and tea, Moira glanced over at Sterling. “She is very beautiful.”
“Not to me,” Sterling refuted, his blue eyes on her. “No one is as beautiful as you.”
“So, you say.” She wouldn’t fall for his words but all the same, they did make her blush with pleasure. He hadn’t kissed her since she arrived to their home. Every night, he escorted her to her room and did nothing more.
“He’s right, Moira. Sterling’s known Lavinia all of her life. He’s seen her from the bundle of joy who once became ill on his clothes—”
“Oh Jasper!” Sterling moaned.
“—to a lovely young woman.” Jasper continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “A young lady who would rather be trampled on by a team of wild horses before anything other than genteel conversation exited her lovely mouth.”
“Not quite,” Sterling disputed. He looked at Moira. “She can be rather forward when out of earshot of Elder Collingsworth.”
“We know that. Alas, your father and the elder don’t have an inkling of that.”
“She certainly puts on the ‘white raiment’ when in their presence, doesn’t she? Not that Lavinia’s brazen.”
“Of course, if—” Jasper stopped speaking and sniffed the air. His eyes widened. “Is Noor making apple pie?”
Moira sniffed the air as well. “I believe she—”
Jasper ran from the drawing room without saying another word.
Sterling grinned at her. “I should tell you, my wife, that Jasper’s weakness is for apple pie. You’ll probably have to go in there and drag him from the kitchen or else he’ll get in her way.”
A Bride for Sterling Page 6
