A Matter of Marriage (12 page)

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Authors: Ann Collins

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Victorian, #Historical Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #United States, #Historical Romance

BOOK: A Matter of Marriage
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“He’s
a kind and thoughtful man.” She briefly lowered her gaze. “A better person than
I. Alex, I’m sorry for the way I treated you in my office. I was in a fretful
state, and I pushed you away when you were only trying to help me.”

He
admitted he had not reacted well to her rejection. During the ferry ride to San Diego, he had begun to worry that marrying Julia was a mistake. But he had given her
his word, and he would not go back on it. Her apology restored his faith in her
and their future together.

“I
promise I will always do my best to help you. I hope you’ll remember that.
Apology accepted.” He held out his hand to her.

She
took it, accepting him, scar and all.

The
reverend cleared his throat and beckoned them to enter the gazebo lit with a
golden glow.

She
licked her lips. “It’s time.”

“Yes,
it is,” he said, more ready for this than he ever would have imagined.

Hand
in hand, they climbed the stairs and took their places.

Reverend
Spencer began the ceremony, preaching about love and marriage as the sky
darkened into night. Alex’s thoughts strayed to his first marriage and the huge
church wedding Elizabeth’s parents had insisted on. Of the five hundred
eighty-nine guests present, only ten were people Alex had invited. James
Barrett, his school friend and business partner, had been his best man, but
their partnership could not withstand the events that subsequently changed
Alex’s life forever.

“Mr.
MacLean?” Reverend Spencer prodded.

He
jerked his attention back to the minister. “What?”

The
man stroked one sideburn. “The correct response is ‘I do.’”

“Sorry.
I do.”

The
minister continued, then waited for Julia to answer the same question.

“I
do,” she whispered.

Reverend
Spencer squinted one eye. “I’m sorry. My hearing’s not as good as it once was.
Could you repeat that, Miss Fairbanks?”

“I
do!” Her resounding reiteration made the gallery titter. She cringed.

Alex
suppressed a chuckle.

“Very
good.” The reverend grinned like the sales clerk who had sold Dr. Dolan the new
suit. “Please face each other and join both hands.”

Alex
took her hands and squeezed them. Marrying Julia was a new beginning for him.
With her, his life would have purpose and the prospect of happiness. It might
even have what he wanted most—love.

The
minister intoned the vows that Alex happily repeated. “I, Alexander Devlin
MacLean, take thee, Julia Ann Fairbanks, to be my wedded wife, to have and to
hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in
sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part. This is
my solemn vow.”

She
made her vows as well, though she stumbled on the part about loving and
cherishing him.

“The
ring, please,” the minister said.

Alex
released her hands, fumbled in his coat pocket, and brought out the ring she
had given him this morning. He handed it to the minister, who said words over
it and gave it back.

As
Alex lifted her left hand, he felt her trembling. “Don’t worry,” he whispered,
gently working the ring onto her third finger. “It’s almost over.”

She
drew a shuddery breath. “It’s only just beginning.”

The
minister spoke again, and Alex repeated the words. “In token and pledge of the
vow made between us, with this ring I thee wed, in the name of the Father, and
of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

Reverend
Spencer blessed them, raised his voice and said to all the onlookers, “I
pronounce that they are man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and
of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Those whom God hath joined together, let no
man put asunder.”

Applause
and cheers erupted from everywhere. Mary sobbed.

As
Alex was about to turn and lead his bride back down the stairs, the noise
abated and Reverend Spencer’s voice boomed out, “Mr. MacLean, you may kiss your
bride!”

*   *   *

Julia
froze, staring at Alex as he stared back. He looked as surprised by the
minister’s declaration as she felt. Simultaneously, they faced Reverend
Spencer.

He
slapped a hand over his mouth. “Dear me, I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry.
It just came out. Habit, I suppose.”

Julia
heard Kate giggle behind her, then Mary shushing the girl. From one of the
balconies came a yipping sound—Muffie, the little Yorkshire terrier.

“You
don’t have to do it,” the reverend quickly added. “I’ll just introduce you and
that will be that.” He raised his arms and peered around. “Ladies and
gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. MacLean.”

More
applause greeted his announcement, but then a man with a deep, reverberating
voice shouted, “Kiss her!”

Several
other voices joined his, beginning a chant. Hands clapped in a rhythmic beat
that left no question as to what everyone wanted.

Julia
wanted to disappear under the gazebo until the crowd dispersed. Once again,
others were forcing her to do something she preferred not to do. At the very
least, her first kiss with Alex should be saved for a private venue, but
choosing not to kiss him now would disappoint her guests and employees and lead
to questions she didn’t want to answer.

“It’s
up to you,” he said to her.

The
chanting and clapping continued.

“Go
ahead. I’ll try to act convincingly.” Though she told herself she wouldn’t feel
anything, a traitorous flutter of anticipation made her pulse take flight.

“I’ll
try to do the same,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes. He encircled her waist
with his arms, pressing his warm palms against her lower back.

An
expectant hush fell over the crowd.

He
pulled her gradually closer. “Mrs. MacLean.” He spoke the words, acknowledging
their bond for life. Then he smiled, widely and warmly.

Staring
up at him, captivated by the smile she had never seen, Julia felt as if
rational thought had been knocked right out of her head. His smile transformed
his entire being. His face seemed to glow with an inner light. Tiny golden
flecks glinted in the brown of his eyes. His prominent scar seemed to fade
away. He laughed, the sound deep and warm and catching her off guard.

Dizzy,
she grabbed his upper arms for support. His hold on her thankfully tightened.
Without him, she felt sure she would have fallen down the stairs and landed in
a heap of white satin.

His
smile grew as he peered down at her.

Her
breath hitched, and for the first time since she met Alexander Devlin MacLean, she
feared her heart might be in more danger than her life.

His
head lowered, and his mouth covered hers, tenderly at first, then with a
growing sense of possession. His hands pressed deeper into her back, forcing her
hips, stomach, and breasts against his solid build.

Too
shocked by the sensations swirling within her, she did not react at first. But
then a tiny, uncontrollable quiver swept over and through her. She might have
even made a sound, though she couldn’t be sure. Alex smelled of raw masculinity
and the ocean air. She closed her eyes and opened herself to him, willfully
kissing him. Their lips melded together, mouths meeting, opening, exploring,
and tasting.

She
let her senses take over. Her hands, as though of their own accord, slid up to
his shoulders and the back of his neck. She lost track of everything but the
man holding her hard against him, tantalizing her with his lips and tongue.

Sometime
later, whether seconds or minutes she had no idea, Julia registered the sound
of Reverend Spencer coughing and clearing his throat. She also heard loud
cheers, whistles, and laughter echoing around the courtyard.

Her
eyes popped open. She broke off the kiss, bringing her hands to rest on Alex’s
rapidly rising and falling chest. She tried to catch her breath.

He
peered down at her, his eyes so dark with desire that she trembled. What had
she done, losing herself first in his smile and then in his kiss? Kate had been
right. A kiss from Alex MacLean was heavenly. She had not needed to act like a
stage performer. But what must her guests, employees, and minister think of her
after such a passionate display? Some of them might call it wanton.

Her
face flamed, and she pushed away from … her husband. “That’s enough.” She had to
think of the hotel and her reputation.

He
blinked several times, as if he had been as lost in their kiss as she. His arms
dropped to his sides, and he stepped back. The cool evening air rushed in where
she had been warmed and protected by his touch and body.

Julia
quickly discovered that she already missed his touch, and that frightened her.
This man was her husband. Tonight they would share her apartment. Once inside,
they would be alone, on their wedding night.

A
chill skittered over her. She wasn’t ready for this, not at all, not when she
had yet to recover from a single kiss. Fear overwhelmed her tingling senses.
Already, she felt as though she were losing what she had fought so hard to
become—an independent woman. She had lost herself in a kiss, and she was afraid
of one day wanting to do whatever she could to please Alex, just as her mother
had done with Father.

Julia
silently moaned. What was she going to do?

Chapter Eight

 

“One
last toast, my friends.” A bit unsteadily, Dr. Dolan held his champagne glass
out to the bottle-carrying waiter working his way around the table set up
especially for the wedding party.

The
Crown Room buzzed with talk of the ceremony two hours after the fact, and the
string quartet continued to play melodies associated with love.

Alex
did not accept more champagne. Despite the celebration, he had drunk very
little. A threat against Julia’s life still existed. As her husband and
protector, he intended to keep her safe. What he really wanted to do was whisk his
wife upstairs to the safety of her apartment and finish what they had started
in the gazebo. With that one kiss, she had permanently awakened his
long-dormant urges. He wanted her more than ever. She’d been a passionate
partner, soft and yielding, yet also demanding, as hungry as he.

In
the end though, she had pulled away. Alex had seen in her eyes how stunned and
dismayed she was at her behavior. During dinner, she had tried to keep some
semblance of distance between them, but her attempts had failed, thanks to the
maitre d’. Jacques had placed their chairs so close together her tantalizing
wedding dress brushed Alex’s leg every time he or she moved.

Mary
Dolan and her daughter, both smiling broadly, lifted their glasses for another
of the doctor’s toasts.

Julia’s
smile appeared less than genuine, though she raised her glass, too.

“Ladies
and gentlemen,” Dr. Dolan said, “I present this toast to our Julia. As of
tonight, the Hotel Grand Victoria has a long and rosy future ahead. I also
offer this toast to Alex, who made it all possible, and who we welcome with
open arms.”

“Thanks,
Doc.” Alex started to sip from his glass.

“Wait,”
Mary said, her eyes as bright as her husband’s. “I have something to add.” Giggling,
she raised her glass higher, her hand weaving. “To many more kisses and a
future filled with beautiful babies.”

Champagne
sloshed out of Julia’s glass, landing on
the remains of the small wedding cake her pastry chef had baked for them.

Kate
laughed. “Mother!”

Alex
lowered his glass. Wanting to reassure Julia he hadn’t forgotten her fears, he
said, “Mary, it’s a little early to be thinking about children.”

“I
know, but children are so very precious.” She smiled affectionately at her
daughter, and they clinked glasses.

He
felt Julia squirm, heard the rustling of her dress. She set her glass back on
the table.

“Yes,”
he said, “they are extremely precious.” He tried not to think about Danny, didn’t
dare if he wanted to keep his composure. He reminded himself that tonight was a
new beginning for him. “Julia and I will do what’s right for us.”

The
doctor raised his glass higher. “And that is as it should be. Julia, you made
the right choice of man.” He drank down every last bubble of his champagne.

She
darted a glance at Alex. “I … believe I did,” she said, but she didn’t drink.

“Good
stuff,” the doctor said, then smacked a noisy kiss on his wife’s cheek.

“Harold!”
She playfully pushed him away. “Not in public.”

He
grinned. “I’ll kiss you anywhere I please, my love.” He lifted her pudgy hand
and settled his lips against her fingers.

She
giggled. “That tickles.”

He
smiled, then looked toward the doors and cupped a hand to his ear. “I do
believe I hear the Friday night orchestra tuning up.” Swaying slightly, he
stood and pulled his wife to her feet. “What do you say we all adjourn to the
Grand Ballroom for a bit of fancy footwork?” He winked at Mary.

She
blushed like a schoolgirl. “Are you sure you remember how to dance, old man?”

“I
will gladly show you how much I remember.” He tucked her arm in his.

Kate
stood beside them and rolled her eyes. “Mother, you know exactly how much he
remembers. You danced with him two weeks ago.”

Mary’s
blush deepened. “I was just teasing him, Kate. We like to tease each other.
You’ll understand that someday.” Eyes glinting, she exchanged a knowing look
with her husband.

Alex
stood, too, envying the doctor and his wife. Might he and Julia someday share
such feelings for each other? He hoped so. It would take work, though, and they
needed to be able to trust each other. Without trust, they would have nothing,
and there was so much Julia didn’t know about him. But did he have the courage
to confide what he wanted to forget?

“Doctor,”
he said, “I think Julia and I will call it a night.”

She
jumped up so fast her chair toppled over. “But I want to dance.”

Alex
picked up her chair, knowing a stall tactic when he heard one. He started to
worry about the night of lovemaking he had planned. He wanted a willing bride
in his bed, the same woman who had kissed him without reserve in front of
hundreds of people. “You do?”

“Yes.
Yes, I do.”

“Then
we’ll dance.” He took her arm and steered her past the Dolans, out of the
dining room.

“Wait
up, Alex,” the doctor called out. “Take pity on a stout old man.”

He
glanced over his shoulder. “We’ll meet you in the ballroom.”

Dr.
Dolan waved them away. “Go on then.”

They
crossed the Rotunda, passed by the reception desk, and strode down the hallway.

She
tugged on his arm. “You don’t have to walk so fast.”

He
slowed. “I thought you were eager to dance.”

“Not
really, but I suspect you already knew that.”

He
shrugged, then nodded. “It wasn’t difficult to figure out.”

“Today
has not been easy for me, but I am grateful for what you’ve done, Alex. The
hotel is safe now. I’m also grateful for the way you handled Mary’s toast about
… babies.”

“You’re
welcome on both counts. Whether we choose to have children or not is nobody’s
business but ours. However, you might ease your fears by talking to Dr. Dolan
about the medical side of things.”

“I’ll
… think about it,” she said as they entered the circular Grand Ballroom.

Couples
sat at small tables, stood in groups, or whirled around the dance floor. Other
guests watched from a gallery above. An orchestra played on stage, and as Alex
led his wife toward the dance floor, the band broke off their song, swiftly
changing to a rendition of the “Wedding March.”

He
felt Julia wilt a bit, then shore herself back up as men and women uttered
congratulations or acknowledged them with a smile or nod.

One
rosy-cheeked man got up from his chair and lifted his glass to them. “Are you
going to christen the Bridal Chamber yourselves?” He roared with laughter.

Her
steps faltered.

Alex
steadied her. “We’ll leave that room to the paying guests,” he answered for
her. They didn’t need the Bridal Chamber. Julia’s apartment—their home—would do
just fine.

They
finally reached the dance floor, and the orchestra segued to a waltz. He took
his wife into his arms and spun her around with him, their steps perfectly
matched, their bodies moving as one. Beneath the press of her fingers against
his shoulder, his flesh grew hot.

As
the melody ended and another began, Dr. Dolan cut in, saving Alex from having
to excuse himself or dragging Julia upstairs. He danced with Mary and then
Kate, grateful for the chance to cool down. But then he was paired with his
wife again.

She
settled into his embrace as if she had never been gone, as if she belonged
there. He held her closer, leaning his head against the softness of her hair,
happy that she’d stowed her hat in her office before dinner. Her sweet scent
enclosed them in a world of their own, and Alex couldn’t help but remember the
honeyed taste of her mouth. Damn, but he wanted her.

Three
torturous dances later, he stopped them near the edge of the floor. “Let’s go
home.”

“We
are home,” she said, feigning innocence.

“You
know what I mean. Upstairs, to the apartment.”

She
tensed. “You go ahead. I have some things to do.”

“What
things?”

“Well,
everything I didn’t get done this afternoon because we had to go to San Diego for the marriage license.”

“Your
duties to the hotel can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, everyone, including me,
expects you to put hotel matters aside. Besides, you’re not going anywhere
unless I accompany you. Have you forgotten someone around here wants you dead?”

She
tensed. “I’d like to forget it, but I haven’t.”

“Your
safety comes first, Julia.”

“Thank
you.” She let go of him. “We might as well go upstairs then.”

He
offered her his arm.

She
stared at it a moment, inhaled deeply, and let her breath back out in a rush of
air. She slid her arm through his with a minimum of contact.

Leading
her from the ballroom, Alex kept his expression neutral, no longer sure whether
the night he’d been eagerly anticipating would happen.

*   *   *

Julia
climbed the stairs to the second floor. Every part of her body hummed with her
awareness of Alex as he walked beside her. On the dance floor, in his arms, she
had almost forgotten that her husband was a stranger who undoubtedly expected a
wedding night. She had let the music and his agile strength and elegant steps
sweep her along until, heaven help her, she had wanted him to hold her closer
and tighter. She’d wanted to dance with him forever.

But
now reality returned. They were about to enter her apartment, and she had a duty
to perform as his wife. She trusted him to do what he said was possible to
avoid conceiving a child. He had not dismissed her fears, speaking up for her
when Mary had made her toast about babies. Julia’s trust in him had grown.

Outside
the apartment door, they stopped. Alex pulled a key from his coat pocket.

“Where
did you get that?” Her refuge was no longer her own.

“Theo
slipped it to me during dinner, after he put my belongings inside.” He inserted
the key in the lock and opened the door.

The
sitting room was lit, compliments of Theo, no doubt. She spied Alex’s battered
traveling bag beside the nearest sofa. It belonged in her father’s old bedroom.

She
started to go inside, but Alex held her back. “What?” she asked.

“Don’t
you want me to carry you over the threshold?”

“No.
Under the circumstances, that would be silly.” Their union was far from a real
marriage. “Besides, you’re not to lift anything heavy. Doctor’s orders,
remember?”

“You’re
not heavy.”

His
eyes had darkened again, and her heart started to hammer. “Nevertheless, you
are not going to carry me over this threshold.” She stepped inside.

“I
guess I won’t.” He closed the door and locked it, the decisive click making her
flinch. He set his key on the parlor table, then unbuttoned his coat and
loosened his cravat, as if it were perfectly natural for him to begin
undressing in front of her.

“Your
room is there,” she said quickly, pointing. “Mine is there.” She pointed in the
opposite direction. “We each have our own bathroom with water closet.” She
mentally thanked the hotel’s architects for that. She wanted her privacy.

“Then
I’ll move into my room and make myself at home.” He ambled over to his bag and
picked it up. “Then perhaps we could … talk.”

Talk,
indeed, she thought, her legs beginning to shake.

“Will
you be needing help with your dress?”

“No!
I mean, no, thank you. I can get out of it myself. I will … see you afterwards.”

“All
right. Whenever you’re ready. Oh, and just to put your mind at ease, I have
what we’ll need to avoid conception.”

Her
cheeks grew hot. “I am glad to hear that.” She gulped. Now she had no reason
whatsoever to deny him his rights as her husband.

“Do
you want me to come to your room?” he asked.

“No,
I’ll come to you.”

“It
won’t be awkward for you, being with me in your father’s former room?”

“I’ll
be fine. Several months after my father’s passing, I cleaned out his things,
replaced the furniture, and had the room repainted.” Consummating their
marriage in her father’s old room would not be any more awkward than the entire
situation already was.

He
shifted his bag to his other hand. “Okay. See you in a little while then.” He
sauntered away and disappeared into his room.

When
she tried to move, Julia felt as if her legs were made of wood. Hobbling into
her bedroom, she switched on the electric lights in the wall sconces and tried
to get hold of herself. Alex had kept up his side of their arrangement, now it
was her turn.

She
could do it. In fact, the sooner she did it the better. She would offer herself
to him, and a few short minutes later, their first time together would be over.
Her duty for the night would be done, and she could return to the privacy of
her own room. Julia ignored the little voice reminding her of Alex’s boast that
she would enjoy their intimate relations.

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