A British Bride by Agreement (7 page)

“A day?”
He kept his
gaze away from Emma.

His mother shrugged her shoulders. “Nick
told me that Jack Standish had a conflict, so I changed the day to accommodate
his schedule.”

Emma leaned in toward Jonathan. “Mr.
Jack Standish?
As in the president, Jack Standish?
The president of the country?”

“And of the city
and the national forest.”
Jonathan took in her questioning gaze.
So unusual from all the jaded girls he’d dated in the past. He tore his gaping
stare away, uncomfortable with the knots in his stomach. His feelings for her
were developing way beyond mutual respect and moderate admiration. How could
the pull toward her be so strong so soon? He didn’t need messy and complicated
emotions. He’s been blinded by them once before.
Never again.
“We’ve been friends with the Standish family since my father was a boy.”

“It’s all settled then.” His mother shot
a glance back and forth as if hoping to see a spark of love between them.
“Next Friday instead of Saturday?
Are you pleased?”

Jonathan took Emma’s hand. Her feminine
clasp fit perfectly in his. His throat tightened. He wouldn’t let his family
down. “We can hardly wait.”

His father cleared his throat. “And we
can’t wait for the fourth generation Steller to arrive.”

A trickle of sweat dripped down
Jonathan’s back. He pressed his eyes shut.
Don’t
go there. No one single thought of baby making—”

***

The wedding took place on the terrace in
the Steller’s backyard. Because of the brief engagement, Emma hadn’t expected
many people to be invited, but by the late morning, five hundred guests had
arrived for the service and a mid-day meal on the estate grounds. She thought
about inviting some of the gals at her job at a music store, but she wasn’t
close enough to any of them to confide her reason for a remarriage in under
four months.

She wandered back toward the
tulle-festooned head table, having used the excuse of refilling her punch glass
to stretch her legs. She’d only toyed with the gourmet surf and turf on her
plate. She’d hoped to have a moment alone with Jonathan, but she hadn’t seen
him since they had cut the cake. Odd that he looked so stern. He didn’t even
take more than one bite of the chocolate confection. How could he be more
nervous than she?

Waiters in white tails served lunch, and
a string quartet played a myriad of Bach and Beethoven melodies. Her wedding to
DJ had been nothing like this. Just a quick trip to the justice of the peace
and out for a meal at a local club with a couple of friends. DJ had spoiled the
event by getting drunk.

Unfortunately, their wedding day had
only been the beginning of a pattern of drinking in his life. Guilt gnawed at
her—was his drinking in some way her fault? She had been so young when they
married, did she even know how to be a good wife? Was that why he was so
unhappy? Her heart sunk. It had to be. Though her marriage had been difficult,
somehow comparing the two different wedding days felt disloyal to his memory.

She tugged on the strapless vanilla gown
her mother-in-law had flown in from Milan. At her first wedding, Emma wore a
black t-shirt and jeans just because her ostentatious mother would never approve.
And the next morning, with DJ hung over, they had moved her stuff from the
college dorm into the small cottage on the Steller estate at his new job. This
time, her belongings had been transferred by servants into an almost finished
wing in the Steller estate—

 
“Time to get changed.”
Nick’s warm voice interrupted her.

“What?” Emma looked around for Jonathan.
“Did Jonathan send you to fetch me?”

***

Nick smiled, feeling a blush creep up
his neck. This woman was beautiful. Hard to believe Jonathan wanted an on-paper
only marriage. He’d have to place a bet with Orlando how long that would last.
Too bad she didn’t know what she was getting into. How driven Jonathan was. He
could have made her a lot happier. “Not fetch. I like to think of it of having
the honor of escorting the beautiful bride to him.”

Emma slipped her arm in his as they
walked through the crowd. “How long have you worked for Jonathan?”

“I have worked for your father-in-law, Mr.
Hans Steller for two years.” Nick waved at a politician that looked somewhat
familiar to Emma. Two years making him look good to his father. Not that Uncle
Hans ever gave his son any kudos. There were times when his uncle seemed to
treat him better than his own son. “But I’m actually Nickolas Steller, his
second cousin. Our grandfathers started this company together in Germany.”

“Really?
You don’t look
anything like him.”

He smiled with the whitest teeth she’d
ever seen. “My mother was Italian.”

“Do you like working with Jonathan?”

“Oh, sometimes he gets puffed up, but I
keep him in his place.” He smiled widely beautiful.

Emma bit back a grin, thinking of a
Cheshire cat.

“If he isn’t careful, I might steal his
job away from him.”

“But—”

“I’m teasing.”
Whew, that was close
. Why did he confess such a thing? “What is
there not to like about him? My cousin is the smartest, most driven, most
passionate man I’ve ever known. He’s just like me.”
Which was
true.
Jonathan was a good man. But good men didn’t always finish first.

“And sell soda?”

Nick laughed. “Jonathan didn’t tell me
you were beautiful and funny. No, I want to run a corporation.” I want to
run
the corporation. I’m better than
Jonathan. I don’t always let my morals get in the way of accomplishing the task
I’ve been given.”

Emma nodded. Funny how DJ hated that
corporate persona and here she was marrying one.

“Emma.”

***

Emma startled at Jonathan’s deep voice,
ashamed for dwelling on DJ. She spun around and searched Jonathan’s stony
expression. What was he thinking? “Have you eaten? I could fetch you a—”

“I’m not hungry. Thank you, Nick for
finding her.”

“Of course.
I’ll have the
car brought around and then oversee the luggage loaded.” Nick winked at Emma
and strode away.

Jonathan took her hand and led her
toward the house. His grasp felt cold. They had hardly spoken a word to each
other since
their
I
do’s
. He had spent the reception
milling about the room chatting with the guests like a campaigning congressman,
virtually ignoring her. Was this what their marriage would be like?

“My mother’s waiting for you in the
yellow guest room to help you change out of your dress.” Jonathan waved at an
older gentleman and woman strolling by. “Mr. President, Mrs. Standish, thank
you for coming.”

Emma whirled around and watched the
familiar couple pass, surrounded by men in dark suits. “Oh, I wanted to meet
him.”

“Another time,” Jonathan’s voice sounded
firm. He glanced at his watch. “We’ve got to get going.”

Hurt stung her heart. Could he not
indulge her one request? He hadn’t even complimented her on her wedding dress.
Or toasted with her their important day.
She swallowed back
tears as she worked to keep up with Jonathan’s long strides and to stay off her
hem. Until now, the day had been more like an odd fairy tale, but now reality
had set in. She was Mrs. Jonathan Steller. And they were about to board the
company jet and fly to Germany.

For their
honeymoon.

Her stomach tightened.
Pull it together, Duckie
. She’d signed
the agreement early this morning before the wedding, and she wasn’t one to back
down from a commitment. From now on, her aim would be to become the kind of
wife Jonathan expected. Maybe for the first time in her life, she’d feel like
she was successful at something. Unlike her piano career, and first marriage
where she’d been a complete failure, maybe she could make Jonathan happy. How
hard could it be to become a member of one of the richest families in America?
Panic nearly
welled
her throat shut as she started to
pull away from him. “I’ll go change.”

“I’m sorry.” He drew her back to him and
kissed her forehead. “This is your special day, and I shouldn’t rush you. Let’s
go find the president.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. Just
promise me someday you’ll introduce me to him.”

His brow furrowed as if conflicted by
something. He lifted her fingertips and kissed each one.
“Of
course.”

She searched his serious face for some
clue as to what would have him so bothered. Did he regret marrying her? Did he
still miss his old girlfriend?

He gave her a nod. “My mother is waiting
for you.”

“Yes, of course, forgive
me,
I shouldn’t have kept her waiting.” Emma lifted her long
skirt and turned to go when Jonathan grabbed her and pulled her back into his
arms. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her with such power she could feel
her knees weakening. To stay upright, she wrapped her arms around him and felt
him pull her closer. His kisses grew more fervent, deeper, when a melody of
laughter rang around them.

Emma pulled back to see their attendees
watching. A nervous laugh escaped her lips.

The crowd clapped and cheered.

Another Bronte poem rang in her head…

We'll
not let its follies grieve us,

We'll
just take them as they come;

And
then every day will leave us

A merry laugh for home.

Jonathan nodded for her to leave, and
then disappeared into the crowd.

Confused by his behavior, Emma headed
through the sunroom, passed three long tables laden with exquisitely wrapped
gifts, each one trying to outdo the other. A nervous laugh caught in her
throat. If only the givers knew the truth about the arrangement between her and
Jonathan. Would they still be so generous?

Emma lifted her long white dress enough
to clear the steps and make it to the top of the sweeping staircase, only
getting lost once on her way to the yellow room.

“There you are.” Mrs. Steller handed her
a large glass of pink soda. “I imagine you must be thirsty.”

Emma wanted water, but figured she had
to start supporting the family empire sometime. “Thank you.”

Mrs. Steller sipped her soda as her maid
pulled out the pins of Emma’s veil and unzipped the back of her dress.

“Ma’am, I’ve hung your travel suit in
the bathroom.” The maid smiled.

Emma took in a deep gulp of air, as if
she’d been holding her breath all day. “Thank you.” She kicked off her shoes
and padded into the part-lounge, part-living room, part palatial bathroom, and
changed into the new gray pinstriped pants with a pinstriped blazer and a
bright pink shirt she’d purchased.

As she stepped out of the bathroom, her
mother-in-law gripped a designer gray patent leather purse. “See, it
coordinates with your jacket and, ta-da,” she twirled the purse around, “a
matching pink scarf is already tied in place.”

“Brilliant.” Warm gratitude infused
Emma. This woman was so not what she’d expected.
“Thank you,
Mrs. Steller, and to Mr. Steller, for a lovely wedding.
And I appreciate
you both being so welcoming.”

She held Emma’s face in her hands. “I
don’t know exactly all the details of your quick courtship with Jonathan,” her
blue eyes twinkled and Emma recognized Jonathan’s eye color. “But I’ve known
that he has been lonely, for a long time and now I see a glimmer of light in
his smile,
a quickness
in his step. I know God has
brought you to him as a blessing. And I’m hoping you will encourage him in the
gift God has given him.”

“Gift?”

Mrs. Steller smiled with her eyes as
well as her mouth. “As odd as this may sound, Jonathan’s gift is the wealth
that’s been given him.”

“I—I’ve never seen money in that way. In
my life, it’s been more of a curse.” Emma snuck a glance at the older woman,
fearing she might ask questions.

Instead, she took Emma’s hands in hers.
“Like the story in the Bible, where a master gives three of his servant’s
talents. You both have been given gifts to bless others. And my prayer for you
and Jonathan is that you will not bury them under a rock, but use them for
God’s glory.”

Emma nodded. Other than DJ’s parents,
she’d never met anyone who talked about God in such a familiar manner. “I’d
like that, too.”

“Fair enough.”
Mrs. Steller
led Emma out the door and down the stairs. “Now, when you get back from your
honeymoon, I’ll be here for you. The new wing for you and Jonathan will be done
and you can start decorating it.” Mrs. Steller handed Emma her travel bag.
“Eight thousand square feet of living space should be adequate for now.”