A British Bride by Agreement (25 page)

She fingered the gold chain Jonathan had
bought for her in Munich.
Gold.
How much would it be
worth? No, she wouldn’t bother God with this. Next week she’d find a jewelry
broker’s shop to see if she could drudge herself out of this muddle. If she
sold the necklace quietly, discreetly, surely everything would turn out fine.

***

Wednesday morning, Jonathan frowned at
the envelope from the private detective firm he hired before he asked Emma to
marry him. What would they be sending him now? He’d gotten all the information
he’d needed. As he scanned the new documents, a tight ball formed in the pit of
his stomach.

Montgomery and Lilith Waterhouse were
confidence men
.
British
for con artists.

Montgomery was a proverbial bad egg.
Line after line of accusations, improper handling of investments, dubious
business practices, and connections with other businessmen of questionable
reputation filled the papers.

Montgomery
Waterhouse has long enjoyed being a controversial figure in British society.
Most notably having been involved in
a cash
for questions
scandal having offered money to two conservative MPs who later left government
under a haze of disgrace.

Jonathan rubbed his eyes.
No wonder Emma didn’t want any contact with her parents.
He
shook his head. What must it have been like to grow up with swindlers for
parents?

Swindlers.

Shock rippled through his gut. No. She
couldn’t have. She wouldn’t. His mind couldn’t stop racing. It took a moment
for him to allow his brain to consider such an awful possibility.
Emma a con artist?
Was that what she did with the money?

He stood and paced his office. She’d
been very distant lately. While his feelings for her were intensifying, she’d
grown more remote. Could it be?

No. No. No. His mind protested. He cared
too deeply for her. He’d grown to love the idea of growing old with her.
But now this?
He had to confront her about this situation
today. But even the thought of it made his stomach wrench. If the worse was
true, his insides would snap. The media would get a hold of it. He would
embarrass his family. Bring shame to the Steller name. He held his head in his
hands.
Please no
.

Once again, God had let him down.

***

The next afternoon, Jonathan pulled his
car into the drive behind the high wrought iron gates of the Steller estate and
caught a glimpse of Emma walking from the garage, wearing a pair of very large
sunglasses. He caught up to her and rolled down the window in his new car.
“Need a ride?”

Emma startled. “Jonathan. Why are you—I
mean—lovely
car.
”

“It was your idea.” His voice sounded
guarded. He took a deep breath.
Slow
down, bud
. He reached back and pulled a blanket off of a box full of deli
food. “Lunch date? Want to join me for a picnic?”

She paused.

A ripple of fear snaked up his spine.
She’s leaving you. She’s taken your money
and going to run,
whispered in his mind.

“A picnic seems like a good scheme.” She
hopped in the passenger seat and stared out her side window.

“Great.” He cringed at her use of the
word
scheme.
And despite the cool
air, a gleam of perspiration covered her forehead. What was she hiding? He was
convinced something was wrong. His hands gripped the steering wheel as his
thoughts jumbled. A part of him wanted to pretend everything was fine. Go on a
picnic, get to know this beautiful woman, fall in love, but 300,000 dollars was
a lot of cash. He wouldn’t be swindled again.

***

Emma tugged the wool blanket into place
as Jonathan set the food and drink on the other end. The view over the valley
was stark, with naked branches already losing their leaves. The beautiful green
of the summer was almost gone, leaving a cold and desolate view. Despite having
raised a little over 200,000 dollars at the sale of both her necklaces, there
was no comfort in what she had done.

Conviction weighed heavily upon her.
Instead of praying about this situation or waiting on the Lord, she’d tried to
solve it on her own and ended up deceiving Jonathan further. She risked a
glance at him. He’d grown oddly quiet on the ride over to the far corner of the
Steller property. Was his mind on work? Her palms felt clammy. She had to tell
him something. But if he ever learned the whole truth, any hope of him caring
for her would be over. Tears threatened. She’d grown to cherish him, admire him
as a successful businessman, someone whose faith was obviously important to
him, a man she cared deeply for.
Adored.

“What were you doing this morning?” He
took a sip of orange soda and sat down on the blanket. He didn’t look at her,
but kept busy taking the food out of the basket.

Blinking back tears, she became equally
obsessed with setting out napkins and laying plastic cutlery in precise rows.
“I…went shopping, of sorts.”

“Why did you send money to England?”

Her heart stopped. She looked up at him
through a haze of tears. “I’m so sorry.”

He gathered her into his arms.

She pressed her cheek to his. “Forgive
me. I wanted to tell you that my parents needed money, I just didn’t know how
to explain it.”

He gently rubbed tender circles on her
back with his palms. “It’s okay. It’s all okay.” He pulled her back from him.
“You could have confided in me. Your family is now my family.”

The look of intense relief on his face
surprised her. But she could never tell him the entire story.
That her brother’s life was at stake.
His tender gaze would
turn as hard as it did when he told her about losing the charity money. Fresh
sobs welled in her throat. He could never know her completely.
Only the parts that fit in with being a Steller wife.
Pull it together, Duckie
. She swallowed
hard and cleared her throat. “My parents had a real estate deal go bad and they
lost quite a bit of money. They needed funds to pull through. They’ll pay it
back.”

Even as the words
pay it back
hung between them she knew they never would. She held
her breath. Would he ask for more information?

He eyed her quietly for the briefest of
seconds.

Her heart thumped with each second that
passed.
And it may be a scam
was
poised on her lips when he crushed her to him again.

 
“You had me so worried. I thought you
might—well never mind. I’ll replenish the account and we’ll worry about your
parents later.” His hands slipped up to cradle her face. “Don’t keep things
from me.”

She leaned into his palm.
If he only knew…but the truth would kill their marriage.

He kissed her lips. “You taste like
honey.” He groaned.

Melting into his arms, she was too
overwhelmed to speak. She could taste the orange soda on his lips and smell the
new woodsy cologne she’d bought him. The smell was intoxicating.

Slowly he lowered her onto the blanket,
kissing her neck and throat. His face felt smooth, as if he’d just shaved. She
didn’t want it to end. Here in his arms she was his perfect wife. Everything he
wanted her to be.

“Are you happy?” His voice grew ragged.

She kissed him back with an intensity
she’d never known. “Yes.”

“Are you glad to be Mrs. Steller?” He
rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow

She stared into his blue eyes, wanting
more than anything to unburden her heart.
“Extremely.”

“Is it lovely?” He tucked her hair
behind her ear, the touch sending a chill down her spine.

“Better than a
cup of tea.”

He leaned in and kissed her again.

A sigh escaped her lips.

She loved him.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Emma hummed a song as she hung three
more pictures in the breakfast room. Satisfied with the painted mountain landscapes,
she took one more sip of her tea. It tasted funny, but she didn’t care. She
loved Jonathan. The realization hit her in dizzy waves throughout the early
morning. A part of her was scared to be in love, the other part longed to tell
him, but she would wait for the perfect time.

After organizing a row of toile plates
on the wall, she set baskets of greenery on the windowsills. Pleased by the
effect, she wondered if Jonathan had gotten the prints she’d ordered for his
office. This decorating was becoming, in her own way, a means to show how much
she loved him.

At least now the family and the
breakfast room were done.
Which was good, because she was
tired.
Of course, that only left the den, the dining room, library,
living room, game room, media room, two guest rooms that Babsy asked them to
keep for visiting family from Germany, the master room, Jonathan’s home office,
the exercise room and a mud room. She frowned. Where could she make a music
room? The one she wanted to use to teach children to play piano. She tapped her
lips.

“Mrs. Steller.” Adele stuck her head
around the open door.

Emma spun around. “Yes.”

“Your father is on the phone.”

Her lungs emptied of air. She felt sick
to her stomach. She slowly approached the phone, as if it were a snake. Why
would he be calling her so early? He smelled money and he wanted more. Should
she ask Adele to take a message? She pressed her eyes shut as she put the
receiver to her ear, dreading what would come next. “Hello.”

“Duckie.
You’ve really
come up in the world.”

She leaned against the kitchen island.
“And?”

“How much does your lovely new husband
know about your dear
ol
’ mum and dad?”

She gripped the phone. “He knows nothing
about your deplorable activities and I plan on keeping it that way.”

“That’ll cost you.”

Shock impaled her. “I’ve helped you for
the last time.” She threw words at him like stones. “Leave.
Me.
Alone.”

“We’re family, luv. Family helps each
other.”

“Maybe I don’t want a family anymore.
Maybe I’ve made a new family.
A family who does things the
right way.”

“Duckie, all I ask is for a million
pounds. And then mum and dad go quietly away.”

Fury almost choked her. She felt like
she was going to throw up. “No.”

“The St. Louis Post Dispatch will love
hearing about my business pursuits and they’ll pay handsomely for it. I find
that American newspapers love scandal even more than the English tabloids.”

Panic welled in her throat.
He wouldn’t.
Her breathing became
shallow and rapid. But then she remembered all the times he’d gloated over
articles written about his unscrupulous activities in the press. Gritting her
teeth, she forced the words from her lips. “I never want to hear from you
again.”

“One million pounds deposited into a
Bahamian bank account, or I’ll talk to the papers.”

Emma shook so hard, it took her three
tries to get the phone back in the cradle. She slid to the floor.
her
eyes unable to focus.
One million
pounds to buy his silence.

Her breathing came in gasps as panic
welled up inside of her. Sweat slicked her back, her heart raced as she fought
to maintain control. “Help me, Lord.” She buried her head in her hands. “I
can’t face this on my own. Please help me.”

She crawled over to the coffee table,
needing the comfort of her Bible. Flipping it open to her favorite verse, she
scanned through the pages. Her brow furrowed when she couldn’t find it until
her eyes rested on,
Guard me as the apple
of your eye
. She read further.
Hide
me in the shadow of your wings.
Of course, this was just another way she
was relying on her own strength. She had no idea how to handle this, but God
did. “Oh, Lord, hide me—”

“Emma? Are you home?”

Emma stilled.
Babsy?
She quickly scurried behind the couch. How awful she must look. She wiped away
her tears with her sleeve and smoothed back her hair.
PJs
?
She grimaced. She was
still wearing them.

“Emma, are you dressed?” Babsy tapped on
her bedroom door.

Panicked, Emma’s gaze darted around,
trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for being behind the couch. Her
eye caught the glimmer from her large hoop earring sitting on the side table.
She reached up and grabbed it. Standing up she held it high. “Found it.”

Her mother in law hugged her. “Oh,
you’re all sweaty. Are you all right?”

Emma tried threading the earring through
her earlobe, but her hands shook too hard.
“Just fine.
Can I get you something?”