The Rocky Mountain Heiress Collection (108 page)

Why couldn’t Papa accept that, while she loved the Lord as much as the next person, Charlotte had found little in the way of proof that hard work and determination was not what caused a person to succeed. Indeed, she found her father’s unwavering belief comforting, even if her years at university had offered up too much proof that his faith was a bit antiquated for the modern world. After all, in a few years there would be a whole new millennium upon them. And didn’t Papa always teach her to think for herself?

All of this she might have said had she the means to form the words. Though she held her beliefs, Charlotte had not yet found a way to express them to her father.

“My faith is fine,” she quipped. “Though I’m sure you’ve an opinion as to—”

A knock interrupted what would have been a brilliant statement. When Alex opened the door, she gave him a look that told him exactly how welcome his entrance was. Papa, on the other hand, rose to welcome the Englishman as if the prodigal had returned.

“Do sit down.” Papa indicated the chair nearest Charlotte.

She slid her husband a sideways glance. He’d obviously come from working on his charts again, for he had ink smudged on his sleeve. When he swiped at his forehead, a smear of it landed just above his left eyebrow.

She reached into her pocket for her handkerchief and handed it to him. When he appeared reluctant, she gestured to the ink stain. “Go ahead. Take it.” She lifted a brow and almost smiled. “It’s clean.”

Their gazes locked. Slowly his hand covered hers, and Charlotte could feel the warmth of his touch down to her bones. And then, slower still, he slid the handkerchief from her palm. Finally, he lifted one side of his mouth in a crooked smile.

“Thank you, wife.”

And with three words, the sweet mood was ruined. She opened her mouth to snap at him, then thought better of it. Instead, she continued to stare at him, making the best of their childish refusal to look away.

“If you don’t mind,” Papa said, “I’ll go on with what I’d like to say while you’re attending to yourself, Hambly.”

Alex broke the stare first, turning to face Papa as he dabbed at the spot on his sleeve. “Yes, please do.”

“Charlotte, your attention please.”

Rolling her eyes, Charlotte settled back in her chair and offered Papa her best version of an attentive look. When he seemed satisfied with her performance, he nodded.

“I’ve spent four years planning, not for the wedding—that was Gennie’s job—but for the day I would speak to the two of you as husband and wife.” He shook his head. “I’m sure you both thought I was mad for considering this arrangement at all, much less for insisting that the two of you agree to a wedding in order to achieve the goals you’d set for yourself.”

“Papa,” Charlotte said gently, “you don’t have to say anything. We know—”

“You’re wrong,” he snapped. Then, ducking his head, her father seemed to collect his thoughts. When he looked at her again, his vision seemed clouded by tears. But surely not.

When Papa shifted his attention to Alex, Charlotte let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. What was it about her papa that reduced her age by half every time she felt his disapproval?

“Hambly, you took on the responsibility that belonged to your brother. I applauded that then, and I still do. Rather than wait for Summit Hill to be chosen as the site for the observatory as I would have done, you were clever enough to sell high and reap the profits. The truth, though—did you have inside information that the observatory would be built elsewhere?”

Alex shrugged, her ruined handkerchief wadded in his fist. “No, sir, but I had a gut feeling when the investors continued to stall after you and I made our deal that something was going on. Maybe another deal in the works.”

“Or perhaps just stalling to drive down the price?”

“I considered that, but I couldn’t convince myself of it.” Alex opened the handkerchief and then folded it in half, then in half again.

“Why not?” Papa shrugged. “It’s a logical conclusion.”

Alex hesitated. “I don’t know if you’ve ever been to war, sir.”

“I have,” Papa said softly.

Charlotte blinked hard to hide her surprise. Papa had never mentioned military service.

“Then you know, Mr. Beck, that when a man’s responsible not only for his life but the lives of those around him, he learns to listen to his gut.” Her temporary husband paused. “And to pray, of course.”

Her father swung a triumphant look in Charlotte’s direction. “Of course,” he said to Alex. “But it still took no small measure of skill to make that decision, considering what you had to lose. And now you’ve parlayed the small amount you received from me into something quite impressive.”

“Sir, your contribution was no small amount,” Alex corrected, “and I hope you understand I’m grateful.”

Charlotte felt her brow wrinkle as she listened to Papa laud her husband’s business acumen and his loyalty to home and family. In all those times she’d attempted to speak to Alex about her passion for the corporate world, he’d never once mentioned his skill at negotiating this deal. A deal that, by Papa’s admission, would have gone sour had he been the one handling it.

And apparently, the man to whom she was currently wed had become quite well off in the four years since they’d last met. Why hadn’t he told her as much?

“But above all that,” her father said, “I’m struck by the fact that you’re a praying man.”

“I am, sir.”

A praying man? Interesting. What else hadn’t Alex Hambly mentioned?

Alex felt the weight of Daniel Beck’s praise settle heavily on his shoulders. Worse, however, was the jab of his conscience when he admitted to being a “praying man.” Especially since he had done precious little praying lately.

“So,” Mr. Beck continued, “before I leave my daughter in your hands, might I pray a blessing over the two of you?”

While Daniel waited for a response, Alex looked at Charlotte. Her wide-eyed expression told him the question had hit a nerve with her as well.

“Very well then,” Mr. Beck said, and then he began to pray. He spoke about a husband’s leadership in the household and petitioned the Father to assist Alex in carrying out the promise he had made before Him in the church in London. He ended the prayer by thanking God for bringing Alex into the family.

Alex tilted his head slightly and opened one eye to spy on his wife. Charlotte sat very still, her hands folded in her lap and her head bowed. Despite her beauty and the air of innocence she portrayed, the woman was irritation personified. No other female, including his mother, could cause him to lose his patience faster, and certainly none had wreaked as
much havoc in his life in so short a time. And yet, she had somehow managed to work her way into his mind and his heart. Her kisses, her smile, and those beautiful green eyes chased him wherever he went.

How the Lord could have intended this match was beyond him. And yet, as Daniel Beck continued to pray, Alex knew he had little left in the way of an excuse for leaving this sham of a marriage. His conscience wouldn’t allow it. And neither, perhaps, would his heart.

By the time the amens were said, Alex had made peace with the fact that he was a married man. It felt good telling the Lord that the promise he’d made would be one he kept.

Telling Charlotte would be another thing entirely.

Beneath his feet, he felt the train begin to slow. Alex looked out the window and saw the landscape of Denver.

Mr. Beck gave a passing nod to the scenery outside, then returned his attention to Charlotte. “And now for the final purpose for our little meeting. Buttercup, I know how you’ve always loved our home in Denver, but as a married woman, I think you’ve earned a place of your own.” He paused. “A place where the two of you can raise your children when you’re away from London.”

The soft intake beside him told Alex his wife hadn’t expected this. “Truly, Papa, that isn’t necessary.”

Mr. Beck regarded Alex with a grin. “It appears you’ve already had a positive effect on my daughter, Hambly. The old Charlotte would have been thrilled with a home of her own, given the lengths she went to in trying to escape the torture of living under our roof.”

Charlotte chuckled nervously. Alex turned to face his wife and saw her perched on the edge of her seat. “It wasn’t torture, Papa. Don’t be silly.”

As the train’s whistle sounded and the brakes squealed, Mr. Beck
studied Charlotte a moment before shaking his head. “In any case, I’m sure you’ll want to do some decorating, Buttercup, but the home is quite serviceable as it stands.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a file, then handed it to Alex. “You’ll see from the address that it’s near enough to our home without standing in its shadow. I believe a man has the right to start his marriage without his wife’s parents watching his every move.”

The train jolted to a stop, causing the ink bottles on the desk to rattle in their stand. Alex accepted the file, then placed his palms on top of it. After a petition to the Lord for the correct response, he rose and thrust his hand across the desk.

“Thank you, Mr. Beck, for the home and for trusting me with your daughter’s hand in marriage.” At the older man’s nod, Alex continued. “I want to assure you I’m taking the promise I made before you and the Lord seriously. Charlotte will never want for anything.”

Daniel Beck stood to offer a firm handshake. “I’ll hold you to that, Hambly.”

With a knock, Gennie opened the door. “I’m sorry for the interruption,” she said, “but we’ve arrived. Shall I have the driver load up our things or will you need more time, dear?”

“No, that’s fine,” he said. “Your son-in-law was just thanking us for the wedding gift. Charlotte, however, is apparently speechless.”

And pale, Alex noticed, though he was careful not to meet her gaze. If he did, he might say in front of her parents how very sorry he was not to be able to continue with their plan.

He watched as Mrs. Beck embraced Charlotte and began to chatter about the finer points of the home that would apparently be subjected to a complete redecoration. Mr. Beck moved around the desk to clasp Alex’s shoulder.

“A moment alone, son.” At Alex’s nod, Mr. Beck added, “Walk with me.”

They left the office together, crossing the length of the railcar to emerge onto the platform, where half of Denver appeared to be milling about. Mr. Beck gestured to one of two waiting Beck family carriages, and Alex joined him inside.

The elder Beck waited until the door closed behind them before leaning forward to give Alex a curious look. “So,” he said slowly, “that was a nice performance. A pity my daughter was not as prepared as you.”

“Prepared?” Alex’s gut twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Do you think I am unaware of my daughter’s desire to rid herself of this marriage?” When Alex did not respond, Mr. Beck clenched his fists. “Know this, Hambly. Nothing remains hidden forever. Whatever plan the two of you have hatched will be found out as fraud. I understand this, don’t you?”

“Mr. Beck,” he said slowly, “I admit there has been some discussion of how best to end this marriage.”

“My guess is annulment,” Beck interjected.

“True enough,” Alex admitted.

Mr. Beck’s eyes narrowed. “I won’t allow it.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Alex said, “neither will I.”

Obviously Mr. Beck had not expected that answer. “So I am to believe you’ve suddenly changed your mind about whatever deception you and my daughter have planned?”

“I have,” Alex said.

Leaning back, Mr. Beck crossed his arms across his chest. “Just like that? Need I remind you once again that I am no one’s fool?”

Alex offered a look of his own, one he hoped conveyed exactly how he felt about being questioned on the first real truth he’d told regarding
his marriage. “Sir, need I remind
you
that I am a praying man? Since you reminded me of that fact not half an hour ago, I’ve had the distinct displeasure of being forced to change my plans.”

“So you were not just discussing an annulment. You were planning one.”

Alex spied Charlotte watching from the window of the railcar. “On grounds that I’d prefer not to discuss,” he said as she disappeared behind the scarlet curtains.

“Grounds that I warrant still stand,” Mr. Beck said.

After another long breath, Alex reached for the door handle. “If you’ll forgive me, sir, I prefer not to discuss private matters. I am husband to your daughter, and as long as I draw a breath, I intend to remain as such. Now, if you’ve no further concerns on the topic, I’ll claim my bride and take her to the home you’ve so generously given us.”

“Very well, then.” Mr. Beck opened the door and gestured to the driver. “I’ll send your wife out. You see, this carriage comes with the home.”

When Mr. Beck had climbed out, Alex followed. “No, thank you, sir. I’ll get her myself.”

Charlotte’s father chuckled. “While I applaud your enthusiasm, might I do you one last favor and fetch her myself? I’m not sure my daughter’s going to be as amenable to your new attitude toward the marriage as you would like.”