Alice: Bride of Rhode Island (American Mail-Order Bride 13) (3 page)

Chapter Three

A
s soon as Alice had arrived at the office of Martel Fishing Enterprises, the older Mr. Martel had sequestered himself away with Frank, her betrothed. Frank—with the same dark hair as James but shorter in stature—hadn’t appeared too happy to see her, barely shaking her hand. She had a sinking feeling she’d soon be headed back to the train station.

She ruminated over what she should now do. She didn’t have enough money for a return ticket. Besides, she had nothing to return to. All her good friends from the factory were in the process of departing for their own new husbands and lives. And besides, Massachusetts wasn’t really her home. She exited the stifling atmosphere of the office and wandered down to the stone pier, holding her bonnet in her hand and enjoying the crisp breeze upon her face. In the distance lay the Atlantic Ocean. The Sakonnet River must be more of a tidal inlet than a true river.

She stopped and closed her eyes; for the briefest moment the weight of the past several weeks left her. Seagulls squawked, and a breeze blew wisps of blonde tendrils that had escaped her bun across her cheeks. The odor of fish—thankfully not as pungent as at the rail station—and briny air accosted her, and tears burned her eyes as she thought of her father. Gavin Harrington had truly loved the sea, maybe even more than his wife and daughter.

Into each life some rain must fall.
The words of her papa’s favorite poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, filled her mind. Well, it would seem her life was drenched at this point.

Alice decided that whatever the Martel brothers had in store for her, she wouldn’t leave Rhode Island. She would simply have to find work...somewhere. Somehow she’d get by. She would never return to the home of Daniel Endicott.

Footsteps from behind signaled the approach of, she guessed, Frank Martel, but she was surprised when his older brother James stood beside her and leaned forearms on the railing. In the distance, a steamship called the
Queen City
slowly approached.

“Do you like the sea, Miss Endicott?”

She nodded. “If I’d been a man, I would’ve worked on a ship. I can think of nothing more liberating than being at sea, sailing to some unknown land. It must be terribly exciting.” She glanced at the elder Martel and was taken aback by the contemplative gaze he bestowed on her. The frock coat was gone; the cuffs of his white tailored shirt were rolled to his elbows, revealing muscled forearms. With his hat also discarded, the breeze lifted his tresses with the gentlest of caresses, putting her in mind of a pirate from her school books.

Unsettled, she returned to staring straight ahead before continuing. “Let me save you the trouble of an uncomfortable conversation. I’m not completely witless. I’ve gathered that I’m not as welcome here as Frank’s letters had conveyed. I’ll just be on my way, but if it wouldn’t trouble you, I’d like to watch the water for a bit longer.”

“We’ve not been acquainted for long, but witless is hardly a description I’d apply to you.” He took a deep breath. “It’s true. Frank isn’t in a position to marry you. He’s promised himself to another.”

“I see.” Humiliation engulfed her. Beth had been right—she should’ve waited for Mr. Hughes of Iowa to respond. Now, she was left with nothing.

The man beside her shifted, reminding her she wasn’t alone. From the corner of her eye, James Martel appeared...nervous. But that couldn’t be. He was imposing, stalwart, and remote. A man who seemed shaken by very little in life.

“I’d like to offer you an alternative.” He cleared his throat and faced forward. “
I’ll
marry you.”

Shocked, Alice faced him. “I beg your pardon.”

His eyes met hers. “If you’ll have me,” he added.

Panic threaded through her. She’d been prepared to wed Frank. His letters had shown an earnestness towards her, along with a good dose of humor. James appeared to be the furthest creature from whimsical. Then again, Frank had obviously not been truthful. Perhaps wittiness wasn’t a good measure of a suitable husband.

“I’m no charity case, sir. You don’t have to do this. I’ll figure something out.”

“As I understand, you left a situation in Massachusetts that was somewhat...desperate. Do you have family here that would help you?”

She considered her stepfather and his mansion in Newport. “No, I don’t.”

James watched her intently. “You couldn’t go back to your father?”

“My father is deceased.”

James raised an eyebrow. “He is?”

“My stepfather is still living, but he and I are distant.”

“And why is that?”

Alice stared at this man who had offered to become her husband. He was a stranger. Becoming a mail-order bride was more difficult than she’d imagined. She truly was in over her head. “I’d rather not say, sir. I don’t know you.”

His response was silence.

“May I ask why you would want to take a woman you don’t know to be your wife?” she blurted. “You’re very handsome. Surely there’s a woman you fancy.”

His piercing gaze had her shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Then, he smiled and her breath caught. He had certainly been handsome in the stoic stance she’d only ever seen of him, but when he grinned, a boyish, rakish appeal snagged her as if he’d reeled her in on a fishing line.

“I accept your compliment,” he said. “The truth is, I wasn’t planning to marry. Running our fishing fleet keeps me busy, but Frank was irresponsible in how he handled this situation, and I feel compelled to rectify it.”

“You sound like a knight in shining armor.”

She wished he would stop grinning, as she was swiftly losing her train of thought.

“I like that,” he said. “Will you let me rescue you, Miss Endicott?”

Alice didn’t know what to say. She knew the correct answer was no. But looking into Mr. Martel’s eyes, more deep blue than green, much like the ocean beside them, fate tugged at her, whispering in her ear.
Life is a grand adventure
. Her papa had told her such when she was young.

James Martel represented a new beginning, and perhaps it wasn’t altogether a bad one.

“Yes, Mr. Martel,” she answered quietly. “I’ll marry you.”

Chapter Four

A
lice took a deep breath and smoothed her hands down the lovely gown that Mrs. Irwin had altered for her. The white silk material draped in cascading waves from a modest, high-necked bodice. Puff sleeves adorned longer ones, intricate lace encircling the cuffs and an overlay that covered her bosom. A wide ribbon at the waist ended in a large bow at the back, sitting atop a short train that could be bustled after the ceremony. White silk gloves completed the ensemble.

For the past week, Alice had resided in the cottage home in town of the portly Mrs. Irwin and her husband. The older woman apparently cooked, cleaned, ironed, and essentially kept house for the Martel brothers, who all lived together. Alice had yet to see the residence, situated on the banks of the Sakonnet, but by this evening it would become her new home.

Mrs. Irwin reached up to pat Alice’s curls that were tucked into place with pins and a spritely array of flowers. “You’re so very pretty, my dear.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Are you ready?”

Alice nodded, hoping the butterflies in her stomach would settle down. It was November 2, her wedding day. She wished fervently that Beth or Leora or any of the girls were here. Without a confidant to serve as a witness, it was decided that Mary Jane Beckett—Frank’s sweetheart—would be her Maid of Honor. Frank would be James’ Best Man. Alice soon learned that Mary Jane had no idea it was to Frank that Alice was originally betrothed. James had murmured under his breath during one of the few times they were together this week that she should probably keep that fact to herself.

The dark-haired Mary Jane appeared slightly distracted whenever Alice spoke with her. She was cordial, but it was clear she didn’t consider Alice worth her time. Alice wasn’t sure how to handle this. She yearned for a familiar face, for a devoted friend to stand beside her rather than the impatient Mary Jane.

The only one of her newly-found acquaintances that she genuinely liked was Theo Martel, the youngest brother. They were close in age, and he was open and agreeable in ways that seemed to elude James. The one bright spot in all of this was that she would finally gain a brother, or rather two.

The more she knew of Frank, the more grateful she was that their marriage had never materialized. He was clever and funny, but their personalities simply didn’t suit one another.

Then there was James.

Whenever he was near, her heart set to pounding. She hoped he would be satisfied with their marriage. At the same time, she wondered what on earth they would talk about for all the years of their life together. Whenever she was in his company, he was mostly silent. And the two of them hadn’t been alone since that afternoon at the wharf when he’d proposed.

She and Mrs. Irwin left the private room where she’d dressed and came to the back of the church where the older woman handed Alice a bundle of flowers. Music began to play and fill Saint Anne’s, a French-Canadian parish in Fall River. It was the closest Catholic church to Tiverton. Mr. Irwin appeared and offered an arm to Alice; he would be giving her away.

About two dozen guests had gathered in the pews, all strangers to Alice. To ease her discomfort at being watched so intently, she shifted her gaze to James standing at the altar, Frank beside him. He wore a dark tailcoat atop a matching waistcoat and trousers, his white undershirt offset by a black paisley ascot tie. He was quite the sight, and for a moment Alice forgot to breathe. He most definitely pleased her in looks, and she said a silent prayer that their marriage would be beneficial to both of them.

As Mr. Irwin relinquished her to James, she looked into his eyes, hoping to see...what? She couldn’t lie. She wanted James to desire her, if only in the tiniest way. But his demeanor was impossible to read. He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, and they faced the priest.

The ceremony was longer than she expected and the kiss at the end was simple, not more than a peck on her lips. Disappointment welled up inside her. All week, she’d contemplated what it would be like to kiss James. Apparently, he hadn’t been as curious.

They turned to face the guests, and the priest concluded the ceremony with, “Please welcome Mr. and Mrs. James Martel.”

Polite clapping ensued.

James clasped her hand and led her from the church. White, fluffy clouds hung in the late afternoon sky, the bright blue patches beginning to fade into gray. Exhilaration rushed through Alice.

I’m married.

James ushered her into a waiting buggy. As the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves filled the air, James stared at the passing buildings as they left Fall River and headed back to Tiverton. The reception would be held at Whitridge Hall, not far from the train depot.

Alice folded her hands onto her lap and sought to quiet her nerves. “It was a nice ceremony.”

He nodded, but still didn’t look at her.

“Have I done something wrong? You seem displeased.” She couldn’t quite keep the edge from her voice.

He looked at her, his brow furrowed. “No. You look extremely fetching today.”

Heat rose to her cheeks from the compliment. “Thank you. And you, too.”

Finally, a smile tugged at his mouth and she relaxed a bit.

“Mrs. Irwin was too kind with this beautiful dress she loaned me. She said it had been worn by her daughter.”

James’ gaze briefly scanned her attire, but he quickly diverted his eyes to continue staring out of the buggy.

Alice’s heart beat a staccato in her chest.
He does desire me.
She was sure of it. She felt victorious, but fear also gripped her. Tonight was her wedding night, and she knew precious little of what to expect. Her mama had died five years ago, long before such a conversation could be had. What little she’d heard had been from Lottie and Judith.  She would simply have to rely on their advice. She hoped she could remember all they’d said.

Chapter Five

J
ames took hold of Alice’s hand, now free of the silk glove, and tried to ignore the race of his heartbeat from a simple touch.

“Your home is beautiful.”

You’re beautiful
. He ignored the wayward thought. “Thank you.”

Once she stepped from the buggy, Alice craned her neck to view the two-story dwelling, the white facade illuminated in the moonlight. The overcast skies of earlier had given way to a clear night, starlight twinkling as if in celebration of their wedding. James reluctantly released her hand, seeing no good reason to continue holding it.

“And all three of you live here?” Alice asked, her soft voice sliding around him.

James nodded. “There seemed no reason for my brothers and I to leave after our mother and father passed.”

She paused. “May I inquire as to what happened?”

“It was a carriage accident, five years ago.”

“That sounds truly terrible. Please accept my deepest sympathies.” The compassion in Alice’s gaze tugged at James’ conscience.

He had no idea if Frank spoke the truth about her inheritance, but the possibility that he might own Menhaden Fishing in little more than six weeks strengthened his resolve. The company was rightfully his. If anyone should feel regret, it was Daniel Endicott. James held no ill will toward Alice and was assuaged by the thought that he would behave like a gentleman while her husband. He’d do his best to make her comfortable before divorcing her.

In an effort to deflect the awkward silence that had descended between them, James said, “This area was part of the original Plymouth colony in the 1600’s. We believe the home was built around 1750 by a man named Otis Almy. You won’t find a better property along the Sakonnet. We added an additional room on the rear west side along with the stone wall and the barn.”

She smiled. “I look forward to a full tour.”

“Tomorrow perhaps.” He indicated for her to precede him into the house.

The festivities after the ceremony had continued late, and his brothers remained at the hall. Alice appeared tired, so James had brought her home—alone.

My wife.

Despite his intention to end the union, he couldn’t deny the oddly exhilarating sensation of being officially married. Truth be told, he liked Alice Endicott.

Alice
Martel
, he corrected.

He led her into the foyer, his hand lightly at her back. Her things had been brought earlier from the Irwin’s and placed in his bedroom.

“Would you like a nightcap?” he asked.

Tension played across her face. “That would be nice.”

James knew he needed to explain the separate bedrooms they would be occupying, but he found himself wishing to avoid a lengthy discussion.

The less entangled he became with his wife, the better. It didn’t help that he found her so damn attractive. She appealed to him in every possible way, and standing near her distracted him far too much for a woman he’d only recently met. The light kiss he’d planted on her mouth during the ceremony had left him wanting in ways he hadn’t expected.

Veering to the right, he preceded her into the parlor. At a side table he poured two brandies and brought one to her.

She took the glass and smiled unsteadily then drank the contents in one swift swallow.

He watched her in surprise.

She laughed.

He downed his drink.
This is going to be harder than I thought.

He took her glass from her, his hand brushing her fingers, and tried not to enjoy the satiny feel of her skin. Refilling the beakers with more brandy, he gestured for her to have a seat so that he could more easily put distance between them. Sitting in the chair opposite her, he placed her drink on the table before her hand could get anywhere near his.

“You have many lovely friends, James.” The sound of his name all but caressed him. He finished his second drink and poured another, taking his seat again.

Suitably fortified, he decided to end this agony so they could both retire in peace. “Alice, I want to make it clear to you that I don’t expect you to share my bed.”

The surprise on her face twisted something inside him. “You don’t?”

All of the chivalrous reasons instantly fled. She was his wife. He didn’t need to keep his distance.

But a vision of his maman filled his head. He wouldn’t disrespect her wishes, despite that she no longer walked the earth. If he took Alice to bed, the marriage would be real. And forever.

Once he acquired Menhaden Fishing, he’d have no use for his wife. And he was fairly certain as well that she would have no use for
him
. He was under no delusion—Alice would harbor a deep animosity for him once this was all done.

He would procure the fishing company, but that would be all he took from Alice Endicott Martel.

“We don’t know one another well,” he continued. “Your things have been placed in my bedroom on the second floor, which is now yours.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“The servant’s quarters on the first floor, in the addition I mentioned earlier.”

“Where will the servants sleep?”

James shifted in his seat. “We don’t have any. Mrs. Irwin will no longer be staying here. She’ll continue to help us a few times a week. I think her husband will be happy to have her back in their home.” The last remark, an attempt to lighten the mood, only increased the confusion on Alice’s face.

“But...I don’t understand. I thought you
wanted
to be married.”

Uncomfortable, James said, “I do. And please feel free to make yourself at home, but I don’t expect anything further.”

“What about children?” she pressed.

He was glad for the brandy warming his insides, but it still didn’t take the edge off her questions. “Perhaps in the future,” he lied. “There’s no need to rush.” But guilt reared its ugly head, jolting him. He needed to escape her company. “You look tired,” he said quickly. “Why don’t you let me show you to your room.”

He turned away as she nodded, her stricken expression more difficult to ignore than he’d imagined.

He led her upstairs, entered his room, and lit the lamp on the nightstand. Then he fled.