Bartered Bride, page 9
His brooding expression softened. “I’m sorry about tonight. I haven’t been a very good host. Sometimes an afternoon of butting heads with Grandfather leaves me in a black mood. You had something you wanted to say?”
The enormity of what she was asking hit her. What if he wouldn’t help her? Where could she turn next? Could she trust him with this? Lord, give me courage.
“I. . .I need your help. And I haven’t much time. I got a note from the night watchman at the Cassell Building. He’s leaving for St. Paul tomorrow and won’t be back for several months. Tonight is his last night.”
He frowned in confusion. “I fail to see how this concerns me. Surely they can find another night watchman.”
“Of course they can.” Was Jonathan being deliberately obtuse? “But the new watchman will hardly be likely to allow several immigrant ladies and dockworkers’ wives into the building in the middle of the night. He’d drive them off or, worse, try to have them arrested for trespassing. The girls must clear the room out tonight.”
Jonathan gripped the back of the carved mahogany chair, studying her. “What is it you are asking of me?”
She swallowed and wet her lips. His eyes fixed on her mouth, and a curious swirl started in her stomach. “We need another place to meet, and we need it tonight. Someplace safe.”
He took a step toward her, towering over her, his gaze intent. “And did you have a place in mind?”
She nodded. He smelled of soap and spice. Her breath caught in her throat. What was he doing?
“Are you going to tell me?” His voice deepened, brushing across her like a caress.
She blinked in response and tried to remember what they were talking about. “Um. . .yes. The shipping office.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You want to meet at Kennebrae Shipping? My office?” He went very still, and for a moment she thought he was going to refuse. Then he smiled, a slow, easy smile. “A good idea.” He was so close she could feel his warmth through his dinner jacket. He raised his hands to caress her upper arms.
She shivered. “You are not yourself this evening, Jonathan. I expected. . .” She licked her lips again. “I thought you would be resistant to the idea.”
His lips twitched. “You’re right. I’m not myself. I’m tired. I’m tired to death of arguing with Grandfather.” He bent a little closer. “I’m tired of wrestling with contracts, board members, and accountants’ columns.”
A few inches nearer, until he was only a breath away. “But most of all, I’m tired of fighting the urge to do this.” He bent his head and kissed her, soft and incredibly gentle.
Her eyes fluttered closed, her heart beating so hard she thought he might feel it against his chest.
His hand came up to touch her throat, his thumb grazing her jaw. He stepped back, his eyes dark with feeling.
Her hand flew to her tingling lips. She swallowed hard and blinked, catching her breath.
“You’re welcome to use the Kennebrae offices. In fact, use the private conference room connected to my office. You can haul your banners and books there, and I’ll see no one disturbs them. The furnishings are much more comfortable than that basement storeroom you’ve been using. In fact, I’ll send McKay to unlock the building and help the ladies move. He’ll keep your secret safe. He’s been harboring Kennebrae secrets for twenty years.” Jonathan dug in his pocket and withdrew a key. “Here, take this. Then you can come and go as you please.”
She didn’t know which overwhelmed her more, his generosity or his kiss. She smiled inwardly. Definitely his kiss.
Gather your wits, girl. Don’t let him see how it affected you.
“What’s changed your mind? I expected you to be thrilled at our predicament. I’d have to stop going out at night if we had no place to meet.”
“You seem to have caught me when my resistance was low. . .in several areas.” He pressed the key into her hand. “Perhaps I take solace in knowing you will be safely tucked away in my offices, in comfort, instead of in that drafty, dank basement. Or perhaps I believe in your cause and want to help you all I can.”
She narrowed her eyes, appraising his sincerity. “I’d like to believe that.”
“Then do. Let’s join Grandfather in the music room. I have a sudden desire to hear a nocturne.” He led her down the hall, and she wasn’t sure her feet even touched the pale blue carpeting.
The Steinway was beautiful with hand-carved legs like seated griffins in cherry, inlay marquetry in tendrils and leaves along the case, gleaming ivory keys, and a scrollwork music stand. But most beautiful of all, on the fallboard above the keys where the maker’s name and city were usually displayed, this piano had a painting. A schooner in full sail, the rising sun picking out the details of masts and lines and rails, rode the waves of an aquamarine sea. Clouds in golds, pinks, and purples graced the sky. It was the most beautiful instrument she’d ever seen. She squelched the guilt she felt at not helping the ladies move tonight, salving her conscience that McKay would go in her stead.
She chose Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. The music wrapped around her, carrying her away like the schooner on the melody and Jonathan’s kiss.
Thirteen
“You look different.” Zylphia sipped her cup of chocolate, her eyes scanning the other diners. “Things must’ve gone well last night.”
Melissa smiled and lowered her lashes. Last night. Her first kiss. She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling the key on a chain under her dress. The key to Kennebrae Shipping. The key to his heart?
“Things went wonderfully last night. At first it was a little rocky. Jonathan and his grandfather had been arguing, and dinner was a bit sticky, but the evening got much better after that.”
“So tell me.” Zylphia leaned toward her, squeezing her arm.
“They have a beautiful piano. I played Beethoven.”
Her friend sagged back in her chair and rolled her eyes. “Oh phooey. I despair of you. I thought maybe something romantic had happened.”
Melissa couldn’t quell her smile.
Zylphia pounced. “I knew it. You are all lit up inside. Something must’ve happened.”
“Jonathan agreed to let us—the cause, I mean—move into his office at night. Without any fuss at all. He sent a man to move the books and materials from the basement room across the street to his own conference room. We can work in comfort and safety, and he said we could use it as long aswe like.”
Zylphia blinked. “That’s wonderful, but is that all?”
“It’s all you’re going to get from me.” Melissa gave her a saucy grin. “Finish your chocolate. We’ve got shopping to do. I’m buying my trousseau, you know.”
“Whatever happened, it must’ve been pretty nice. Yesterday you couldn’t be bothered to even look at the drawings for your wedding gown, and today we’re buying linens and picking out silver.”
“Speaking of picking out silver, we have an appointment in ten minutes at the jeweler’s. Mother selected three patterns she thought might be suitable. I’m to choose the one I like best.”
“At least she gave you that much leeway. You’d think it was her getting married, not you. She’s planned everything from the music to the menu to the flowers.”
Melissa shook her head. “At least she has good taste. And I don’t care, as long as I’m marrying Jonathan.”
Zylphia’s cup rattled in the saucer. “That’s it! That’s what’s different about you.”
“What?”
“You’re in love. You’re in love with Jonathan Kennebrae.”
Melissa laughed, joy bubbling up at hearing someone say the words her heart had been singing since that kiss last night. “You make it sound horrible. What’s so wrong with being in love with the man I’m going to marry?”
“But you were totally against it yesterday. You said you were embarrassed to be a bartered bride, married only for your money and your name.”
“Well, I was wrong. Jonathan is rich. He doesn’t need my money. If you had seen the inside of Kennebrae House, you’d know how ridiculous the idea was. All that place needs is a woman’s touch. And he cares about me. I know it. He trusts me. He even gave me the key to his building.”
“How romantic.” Zylphia’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Almost as good as sending flowers or writing poetry. You get free run of his office.”
A little gloss went off the moment for Melissa, but she lifted her chin. “Well, he didn’t have to be so generous. And he does care about me. He’s been nothing but nice to me.”
Zylphia shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. I hope you are. Let’s go spend some of your father’s money.”
Hours later they entered Castlebrooke’s foyer, arm in arm, chilled from the raw November breeze coming in off Lake Superior. The footmen carried in their parcels, and Sarah helped them with their coats and hats.
“Sarah, will you have Mrs. Trolley send tea to the parlor? I’m frozen through.” Melissa checked her reflection in the hall mirror and motioned to Zylphia. “Come. We’ve worked hard and deserve to put our feet up. If I never see another china or flatware pattern again, it will be too soon.”
Before Zylphia could answer, Mother bustled into the foyer, a hectic look in her eyes. “Melissa, where have you been?”
Melissa stopped short in surprise. “I’ve been downtown, the jeweler’s, the stationer’s, the florist’s.”
“Well, there’s no time for that. Jonathan’s here, and he’s been waiting almost an hour.” Mother tugged on Melissa’s hand. “Hurry up. Don’t dawdle. I’ve been trying to make small talk, but he just keeps pacing the rug.”
Happiness welled up inside Melissa, and she hurried to the parlor doors without a backward glance. Jonathan was here? Was he as eager to see her as she was to see him?
She opened the door, and he stopped in midstride. “Jonathan, I’m so sorry you had to wait.”
He crossed the room and took her hands in his. Heat seared her cold fingers. “I needed to see you right away.”
“Is something wrong?” Her thoughts raced. Would they not be able to use the conference room for their meetings? Had something gone awry with the transferring of the supplies? She knew she should’ve overseen it herself, but no, she let herself be talked into staying late and playing the Kennebrae piano.
“Yes.” His brown eyes were grave, his face solemn. “I’m afraid I’ve committed a serious error.”
She blinked and stepped back, withdrawing her hands. An error?
He put a hand into his pocket. “Yes, a serious social error.”
Her mouth went dry. What could it be? Did he regret kissing her?
“I’ve blundered badly, but I intend to make it up to you now. It seems we’ve been planning a wedding, but you’ve been cheated out of a proper proposal.” He dropped to one knee and reclaimed her hand. “Melissa Brooke, will you marry me?”
Time stopped for a moment when she stared into his eyes. Then happy tears pricked her eyelids, and she put her free hand up to cover her lips. No words would come. She could only nod.
He grinned, so handsome and confident, and opened his palm. On it lay a sapphire and diamond ring. He slid it on her finger and stood, opening his arms to her.
She went into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and lifting her lips to his kiss. It was everything she remembered and better. She wanted it to go on forever.
A small cough brought her to her senses. They parted reluctantly to see Mother and Zylphia standing in the doorway. Mother wore a satisfied expression, and Zylphia had her hands clasped under her chin. She let out a sigh. “That was perfect.”
❧
Melissa sat beside Jonathan on the settee, listening to Mother prattle on about the wedding plans. Melissa didn’t care about the music, the flowers, the choral pieces. All she cared about was that Jonathan loved her and wanted to marry her. How silly that they’d both resisted so strongly at first.
God, You are good. You work out Your plans—the ones You know are best for us—even though we might resist at first. You do know the plans You have for us. Plans of hope and a future. Thank You for Jonathan. Thank You for bringing me someone who cares for me, who is interested in my causes. I’m sorry for doubting You and Your goodness.
She adjusted the ring on her finger, its clasp unfamiliar and heavy.
Zylphia could not contain her sighs, looking all dewy and romantic every time Melissa caught her eye.
Well, it was romantic. Melissa smiled and checked her finger again to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Zylphia was right. It was perfect.
“I couldn’t be happier with how things are working out.” Mother offered a plate of tea sandwiches to Zylphia but kept her eyes on Jonathan. “And did you bring the papers with you?”
A prickle of irritation skipped up Melissa’s spine. Why did Mother have to bring up that stupid contract? Wasn’t it enough that they cared for each other? They were blessed to be marrying for love not money, no matter how much of it each family had. With his kiss still a vivid memory, she no longer felt like a bartered bride.
“They’re on the table, all signed and notarized.”
“Good.” Mother had that cat-who-ate-the-cream look of utter satisfaction with herself and her plans. “Things are moving along nicely.”
Fourteen
“Things are proceeding nicely.” Grandfather tossed his glasses onto the stack of papers on the desk.
“You needn’t look so smug.” Jonathan walked to the windows and looked down on the storm-thrashed waves of Lake Superior. An early November squall lashed the windows with sleet, pinging off the glass and coating everything with ice.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am you’ve signed those papers. I’m surprised you actually proposed to the girl, as unnecessary as that was, and bought her a ring. I suppose women like that sort of thing.” He shrugged his thin shoulders. “The important thing is that the wedding will take place soon, before Christmas.”
Jonathan clasped his hands behind his back under his suit coat and turned from the window. “I’m glad I could please you.” The manipulating old goat. It galled Jonathan that he now actually wanted to do what Grandfather had been cramming down his throat for weeks. He’d have to put up with the gloating.
“I tell you, I was worried the whole thing would fall apart. I thought maybe you didn’t want Kennebrae Shipping bad enough to go through with it. You’ve enough of me in you to have told me to keep it all and gone off to do your own thing. Don’t think I haven’t heard about the offers from other shipping companies to steal you away from me.”
Jonathan walked over to the desk and leaned on his palms in front of Grandfather. “I know you think I’m merely obeying your orders, but understand this: I’m marrying Melissa Brooke because I happen to have fallen in love with her, not because it means I stay with Kennebrae Shipping. Melissa is intelligent, courageous, caring, and sweet. She’s unspoiled, unselfish, and everything I want in a wife. Kennebrae Shipping has nothing to do with my marriage.”
Grandfather leaned forward and thumped the desk. “Your marriage has everything to do with Kennebrae Shipping, and it’s high time you knew it. Why do you think I chose Lawrence Brooke’s daughter for you? He’s settling a huge sum on you and his daughter at her wedding, and by sugar, we need it.” He sat back, his breath rasping in his throat, his eyes gleaming.
A sick feeling of dread crowded into Jonathan’s chest. “What do you mean, we need it?”
“I mean we’re overextended. I’ve kept it from you boys, hoping I could turn things around, but it hasn’t worked. I took an awful beating in the Depression of ’93. I sank most of my capital into silver mining in Colorado. Then the market crashed. I carried on as best I could but gave myself apoplexy in the process.”
He tugged at the blanket on his legs and refused to meet Jonathan’s eyes. “Kennebraes are tough though. I weathered the storm. Things turned around, and as a gift to your grandmother, I built her Kennebrae House. She never knew how much I borrowed to build this place nor how much I borrowed to stay afloat during the recession. The only investment that has paid is Kennebrae Shipping.”
Grandfather rubbed his hand along his jaw. “I can’t draw any more capital from the shipping company. The shipping line needs capital to run, too. New boats, wages, fuel. We need Melissa’s dowry to keep the fleet on the Great Lakes. We could lose it all without that money.”
Jonathan straightened, numb, his mind frozen. “Why not just sell the other investments at a loss and get out? Keep Kennebrae Shipping viable. It’s making money. I know it is. We’re busier than we’ve ever been. You ordered four new ships.”
Grandfather shook his head, his hands trembling. “Those four ships have yet to be paid for. And Kennebrae Shipping is security on the other investments. If those go down, so does the shipping line.”
Jonathan swayed, reeling from this knowledge. Anger, shock, and disbelief crashed over him like the waves of the storm outside. Cold crept in from his limbs clear to his core. He turned back to the windows, unable to marshal his thoughts.
Kennebrae Shipping hung by a thread, the linchpin keeping all other aspects of the Kennebrae Empire from sinking without a trace. How had he not known? Was this partly his fault? He hadn’t inquired into any of Grandfather’s other dealings, concentrating only on the one business that fascinated him: shipping. And he’d concentrated on the day-to-day operations—contracts, scheduling, personnel. Grandfather had handled the financials, he and Wasserman. Jonathan had assumed it was in capable hands.
He swallowed hard, dread sinking like an anchor in his stomach. “You’ve duped us all. Me, Melissa, Lawrence Brooke, Almina. Even Noah and Eli. None of this has been for us—or even for Kennebrae Shipping. It’s all been for you. So you don’t have to look the fool for extending yourself too far. So you can keep up all this.” He waved a hand at the opulent office. “This facade of wealth and power you’ve created. You haven’t built an empire. You’ve built a house of cards.”
