A British Bride by Agreement (26 page)

Babsy eyed her with suspicion. “Are you
sick in the mornings?”

Emma shook her head yes. “Oh,
it’s
 
not
—not what
you’re thinking—”

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell with the
first one.”

“A cup of tea?”
Anything to change the subject.

Babsy kept her gaze fixed on Emma until
she clapped her hand across her mouth. “I almost forgot why I came so early.
Next week, ten days from now, on a Friday it would be appropriate for you to
host your first dinner at your home.” She reached in her purse. “I’ve made a
short list of names, thirty-two to be exact who I think should be invited.”

Emma wilted onto the upholstered chair.
Her legs trembled. Could things get any worse? “Next week?”

“Our family is expected to maintain a
certain reputation for entertaining. I was thinking the night before the annual
concert would be perfect. You honeymooners have been on your own enough. It’s
time to be a Steller.” She glanced around the room. “Oh dear, is you furniture
coming in this week? Has Franz been helping you?”

Emma mouth opened, but no words came
out. Yes, things could get worse.

***

Jonathan flew out of his leather office
chair and jabbed his finger in the air. “You’re right. I’d never hire you
again.” He slammed down the phone and paced his dull gray carpet to calm his
anger.

Geraldine ran into the room. “What
happened?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “The
caterer I arranged two months ago for the Steller Benefit Concert just
canceled.”

Her eyes widened. Without saying a word,
she laid a note on his desk and backed out of the room.

He snatched up the paper. The orchestra
he’d booked for the event cancelled due to a chance to play at a Cardinal
baseball players gathering. Wading up the piece of paper, he tossed it across
the room. What was he going to do? The concert was in a week and a half. This
charity event was his mother’s pet project that raised a large portion of their
funds and had been going on for twenty years. He couldn’t let her down.

Geraldine buzzed him. “Mrs. Peterson—”

Jonathan snatched up the phone. “I am
not talking to that woman—”

In his office doorway, dressed in a
tweedy suit and a flattened hat, stood Mrs. Peterson.

He slowly hung up the phone and
straightened his tie. “Won’t you please have a seat?”

Her forbidding frown didn’t bode well
for him.

“How can I help you?” He picked up a pen
and held it between his hands.

“I have been trying to tell you this
concert won’t be a walk in the parking lot.”

He started to correct her incorrect
saying, but at her glaring stare thought better of it.

She clutched her purse like a shield.
“You have paid no heed to my warnings, so I rinse my hands from you.”

He wasn’t in the mood for her confusion.
“I think the saying actually goes—”

“You’ve made your bed now you’ll have to
lie with it.”

He sighed. There was no point in arguing
with her. “I’ll just have to make cake while the sun shines.”

“Exactly.”
She nodded as
if that was the first sensible thing he’d said. “I’ve heard what’s going on. No
caterer and no music. This event is in a graveyard of danger of not living up
to your mother’s expectations.”

He swallowed. His whole life was living
up to expectations. “Well, take a number Mrs. Peterson. I’m getting very good
at letting people down.”

She stood and stared at him over her
spectacles. “This will not only be letting your mother down, but all the aid
organizations you support, all the needy people who depend on your charity’s
generosity, and your family’s good reputation in St. Louis.”

Jonathan snapped the pen in half. Ink
dripped on the papers on his desk.

After Mrs. Peterson left, he couldn’t
concentrate on the letters he was supposed to be writing. The idea of not
living up to his family’s expectations gnawed at him. His failures flashed in
his mind one after the other. Why wasn’t this position getting any easier? It
seemed the harder he tried the harder he failed in every area of his life.

“Excuse me.” A janitor stood in his
doorway. “Got these framed prints you ordered ready to be hung. But I can come
back when you’re on your lunch hour.”

The box said from Inspirational
Concepts. Jonathan shook his head. He didn’t remember ordering any prints. He
waved him to come in. “I need a coffee break. Go ahead.”

“Any idea where you want ‘
em
hung?”

Jonathan smirked. Like inspiration would
help him now. “Surprise me.”

After a few minutes, he paced back into
his office. Needing peace, he shut his door behind him. As he sat in his chair,
something caught his eye. Hanging on the facing wall were three huge framed
photographs of the
alps
with scriptures
calligraphied
on the bottom.

Promotion
and power come from nowhere on earth, but only from God
.

Apart
from me, you can do nothing
.

Take
delight in the LORD, and he will give you your heart's desires.

The hairs on the back of Jonathan’s neck
tingled. God was speaking directly to him. He couldn’t explain it but it was as
if a holy presence filled the room. He pressed his eyes shut as realization
dawned.

God wasn’t failing him. He was failing
God.

***

Still feeling rattled after the
conversation with her father, Emma paced over to her Steinway piano in the
empty dining room and let her finger roll up the keys making a plinking sound.
She hadn’t played in a long time. When she was a child, this was where she hid.
In a torrent of music, she’d shut out the world and all its demands. Between
the call from her father and the visit from Babsy, her childhood hiding place
beckoned her back again.

Play
for Me
,
a voice in her spirit spoke.

Ridiculous.
She had a
desperate financial black mail situation to sort out, a huge dinner to plan, a
vast house to decorate, and a husband she loved but couldn’t tell.

Play for Me.
As the
comforting voice spoke again, something inside of her let go.

Wasn’t there a scripture that talked
about giving your burdens to the Lord? She could almost see herself setting
blocks of stone at God’s feet. A quiet confidence settled over her heart. What
if she looked at playing the piano as for the Lord and not about performing? A
smile founds its way onto her lips as she sat down and tentatively touched the
cool white keys again.

Closing her eyes, her fingers stirred
instinctively. Her hands moved as the music swelled and a familiar tune echoed
in the room. The music in her soul, long shut away, flowed out onto the keys
and she found solace in letting go of her reasoning and playing with her heart.
Song after song poured out of her as she immersed herself in familiar
compositions.

An hour
later ,she
stopped. Was the room brighter?
The air somehow fresher?
It was as if a weight had been lifted. She would never look at playing the
piano the same way again.
As unto the Lord.
Why hadn’t
she thought of that sooner? She glanced at the clock. Ten o’clock? Where had
the morning gone?

She jumped in the shower, got dressed,
and headed to Bammerts. She was going to fill this house with furniture by the
end of the day, or else. She had the money from the sale of the jewelry, it
would have to do for now. She would work hard at being a good wife. Maybe if
she kept enough plates spinning, when the truth came out about
who
her parents were, Jonathan would forgive her.

She pulled into the Bammerts Furniture
store parking lot. The place was already packed with cars. Making her way to
the front of the store, after a few minutes she found the man with the fake
tan. “Rex, can you help me?”

“You’ll have to take a number—”

“I’m Emma Steller.”

He did a double take and squinted. “Mrs.
Jonathan Steller?”

Taking in a deep breath, she decided she
liked this new feeling of confidence God had given her. “I need to buy some
sport’s
memorabilia, furniture, furnishings.
Lots of it.
And I need it today.”

He grabbed a leather notebook off the
reception desk and straitened his posture.
“Of course, Mrs.
Steller.”
His voice suddenly full of deference.
“Was there a particular piece you were interested in?”

She glanced around the room. “As long as
it doesn’t look like it belongs in the Sound of Music, I’m good with it.”

A wide grin, like a Cheshire cat’s,
filled his face. “Shall we get started?”

***

Jonathan rubbed his eyes and glanced at
his watch. Ten p.m. He hadn’t meant to stay at the office this late. His desk
was covered in reports on the financial status of the charity.
None of it good.

“Hey, stranger.”

Jonathan looked up to see Dede heading
down the deserted hall toward his office. He shot to his feet, sending papers
scattering to the floor. “What are you doing here?”

“Nick called me and said you were a
little overwhelmed and might need some help.” She held Nick’s security card in
the air as she paused in the doorway. “Am I allowed to come in?”

“Yes, of course.” He gathered up a few
of the documents on the ground and returned to his chair.

She sat in a chair across from his desk
and looked around.
“A little smaller than the office at
Product Development.”

He nodded. She’d helped him decorate
that one.

“I’ve heard things aren’t going too well
with the Steller Concert. That’s a really big deal.”

He rubbed his chin, unsure as how much
he could confide in her. Amazing how his insides didn’t hurt at seeing her
anymore. His gaze drifted to the framed picture of his wife on his desk. Had
Emma done that? “The concert’s in trouble, as I have no musicians. But I left
it to the last minute, then the first group I had booked quit, and I can’t find
any group suitable to play.”

“And this is probably pretty important
to your funding.”

“Our corporation contributes over fifty
percent of the funds used, but we’ve grown so large over the years that we have
to find outside monies to help our work continue. Without a successful concert
event, the charity will have to stop supporting about half our programs.” He
left off the part about especially since they’d been scammed out of thousands
of dollars.

“Listen, I could make some phone calls…”

He shook his head. “No. If I’m going to
run this charity, I better take the bitter with the sugar.”

“Isn’t that bitter with the sweet?”

He smiled briefly. “An inside joke.
Anyway,” he stood, “I need to get home.”

She gripped her hands in front of her.
“I also came to, you know, say, I’m sorry. And that’s long overdue. Tom feels
the same way. I know he misses your friendship. We both have hurt you badly,
and I want you to know we feel terrible about—”

Jonathan held up his hand, amazed at how
peaceful he felt. He really had forgiven her. “The Lord was at work. I’m
married to a wonderful woman now, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Dede hung her head for a moment. “I’ve
always admired your faith.” She slung her purse on her shoulder. “Well, I should
go...” Her teeth tugged on her lower lip as if hesitating to tell him
something.

“You both need to come to our first
dinner at our new home next Friday night.” Jonathan came around the desk to
tell her good-bye, when she stepped in and threw her arms around him.

“Thank you for forgiving us, Tom and I
still love you very much,” were her muffled words. She stepped back from him
and turned side to side. “Tom and I are pregnant.”

***

Emma lifted the heavy basket of sandwiches
and pastries she’d collected from Jonathan’s favorite German bakery out of her
car and hurried through the parking lot toward his office. She’d had an amazing
day yesterday and she couldn’t wait to tell him about playing the piano again,
the furniture she’d bought, what she’d done in his home office, and what God
had done in her heart. But she was exhausted and hadn’t been able to eat all
day.

 
Nick had been so thoughtful to let her know
Jonathan had had a hard day and hadn’t left his office to eat all day. She
lifted her eyes to the ceiling, “Lord
forgive
me for
judging Nick.” He really had Jonathan’s best interests at heart. She pushed on
the elevator button, willing the lift to come faster. First, she’d tell
Jonathan about her father’s illicit demands. No more hiding information. After
spending time with the Lord this morning, she vowed to never again doubt that
God cared about her. She was the apple of God’s eye and He would protect her.
And if she got all the dreadful secrets regarding her parents out in the open,
then her father couldn’t use his threats against her.