Alice: Bride of Rhode Island (American Mail-Order Bride 13) (6 page)

Chapter Eleven

A
lice entered the hotel room with James behind her. Fatigued and still reeling from the alarm of encountering William Evans, she wanted to be alone.

But there was precious little privacy. How ironic. For weeks, all she’d craved was time alone with her husband, and now that she had her wish, all she desired was distance.

She tossed her reticule on the table and began to pace. She simply wanted to curl up in her chemise on the bed, pull the covers over her, and pretend the world of Daniel Endicott didn’t exist.

Earlier, she’d had to request a hotel girl to help her dress, and clearly she would need to do so again unless James would come to her aid, but she wasn’t of a mind to ask.

How was she supposed to conduct herself with James present? They’d never been intimate.

Frustrated, tears burned her eyes. She turned away so that James couldn’t see her face and stared out the window, the streets of Newport bustling below.

“Do you still love him?”

She spun around. “What?”

“Is that why you’re so upset?”

“No. I don’t love him. I never did. I ran away so that I wouldn’t
have
to marry him.”

Relief shot across James’ face, and Alice wanted to scream. What did this man want from her?

“Did he hurt you?”

She paused, reluctant to delve into her courtship with William Evans.

James moved to stand before her, placing his hands on her upper arms. “You don’t need to fear him. You’re
my
wife now. He can’t hurt you.”

She looked into his eyes, deep pools of sea-green in the lamplight, and wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that she’d finally found a place where she could build a life, and not just any life. She wanted a home, and a husband, and children. She wanted love.

James brought a hand to her face and leaned forward but stopped when his forehead touched hers. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she brought a hand to his lapel to let him know that she accepted his overture. His thumb gently stroked her cheek, but for one long agonizing moment, he did nothing more.

You big lout,
she wanted to say,
just kiss me
.

She angled her face and brought her mouth to his. He didn’t retreat, and, emboldened, she pressed closer. As his lips joined with hers, she closed her eyes and surrendered to the strength and response of James. His scent filled her senses, and excitement stirred in her belly.

James broke the kiss. “Alice, this isn’t a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re very young, and you might not choose to stay in this marriage.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’m giving you the freedom to know your own mind, and you should take it.” He exhaled sharply, and his words had been marked with a tinge of anger.

He might as well have thrown a glass of cold water into her face.

“I think I should give you privacy,” he said. “I’ll get a nightcap downstairs. Take your time with your evening routine.” He retrieved his hat. “And you can have the bed to yourself.”

He opened and shut the door, then was gone.

Alice remained rooted in the center of the room—stunned, shaken, and confused.

She could still feel the warmth of his kiss upon her lips. A memory of desire began to unfurl in her belly, spreading to her limbs.

He does want me.

She took a steadying breath, buoyed by the thought.

But why did he keep her at arm’s length? Clearly, he was uncertain about this marriage. But then, why did he wed her in the first place? She’d been prepared to leave when Frank was unwilling to follow through on his commitment. Why hadn’t James let her go? What was to be gained by marrying her?

James’ words came back to her when she had pressed him about details of his life.
Daniel Endicott didn’t honor the deal
.

Did this have something to do with her stepfather?

Her heart dropped like an anchor hitting the sea floor.

She sank to the sofa to contemplate the ramifications. She didn’t want to think that James, or Frank for that matter, were duplicitous in their actions. Even if they were that treacherous, which she doubted, they had nothing to gain.

She possessed very little. Daniel had given her no wealth, no inheritance, and certainly no dowry. When she’d fled more than two years ago, she’d left it all behind.

If James
was
using her, he had taken advantage and married her under false pretense. But he hadn’t taken her virtue. Why hadn’t he at least done that? It would have bound her to him. As it was, she could end the marriage now. And so could he. Did this mean he planned to use her and discard her, or was he somehow trying to protect her?

Her head throbbed from all the possibilities. She rang the hotel lobby for a maid’s help. With her nightgown finally in place, she crawled into the large, ornate bed and slept alone.

* * * *

James drank four brandies before he allowed one thought of Alice into his mind.

He’d come dangerously close to bedding his wife. He shook his head, trying like the dickens to remember why he needed to stay away from her.

Her soft lips, her earnest overture toward him... James tried to remember again why he was down here in the gentleman’s lounge drinking, and his enticing wife was lying upstairs in their bed.

William Evans appeared at the arm of the chair where James sat ruminating.

“Fancy running into you down here,” Evans said, “what with your wife nearby.”

James tilted his head to look at the man but remained silent.

“I’ll admit, I was quite shocked to see Alice here,” he continued. “I don’t suppose she told you, but before she ran off, I was securing our betrothal.”

James frowned. “I believe the
ran off
part should tell you all you need to know.”

Evans forced a smile. “Well, I’m guessing you haven’t met Alice’s father, Daniel. He won’t approve.”

“That would be Alice’s
stepfather.
If he has something to say to her, he can say it to me.”

“I’m certain he’ll want to meet you.”

James took a swallow of the smooth liquor. He stood, a good two inches taller than Evans. “And you’re to stay away from Alice.”

Evans gave an ambiguous sound, but left with a curt nod.

James knew this wasn’t the last he’d see of the man.

Chapter Twelve

A
lice awoke during the night and heard a faint snoring coming from the stuffed settee in the sitting area. It amazed her that she’d never heard James return. She must’ve been more exhausted than she realized.

She could get up and invite him to the bed, where he’d be far more comfortable. He was still recovering from a broken ankle, and she could tell that it sometimes bothered him.

Her eyelids drifted shut.

I’ll beg him to come to bed tomorrow.

She awoke to sunlight streaming through the windows.

The sound of the hotel room door opening and closing brought her fully awake, then James entered carrying a tray. “Good morning.”

She scooted to sit. In the light of day, it dawned on her how frumpy she must appear. She wore her most modest sleeping gown—long-sleeved and buttoned to the neck—and she self-consciously fingered the braid trailing from the sleeping cap atop her head.

James was unbearably handsome in a dark suit and white shirt, his face freshly shaven. He set the tray onto the bed. Atop it sat a silver coffee pot, cups and saucers, cream, sugar, and a plate of sweetbreads.

She tucked her knees against her. “Thank you.”

He poured the hot, aromatic coffee into a cup and handed it to her on a saucer. “You were very fatigued. I’m glad that you got a good night’s sleep.”

She reached for the cream and added a dash to her coffee, followed by a spoonful of sugar. “I guess I was tired.”

“I have business to attend to today, but I’ve arranged for a horse and carriage to be available for you, in case you’d like to go anywhere.”

She nodded.

“As for this evening,” he continued, “I have a previous engagement, so I won’t be with you for supper. You can either eat in the restaurant or have something sent up. Please feel free to rest and relax. I promise not to be out late.”

Alice sipped her coffee and nibbled on one of the sweetbreads. James’ kindness warmed her heart after his rebuff following the kiss, but the
previous engagement
put her senses on alert. Did he have another woman?

Hurt and resentment filled her, but she remained silent.

“I’ll leave you to your morning ritual then.” He stood and left the room.

Annoyed once again by her husband’s abrupt departure, Alice sat in bed, holding her coffee in one hand and a piece of sweetbread in the other. Her appetite fled as her stomach twisted into a knot.

She knew who she would visit in Newport.

* * * *

James left the hotel room and Alice, settling his hat atop his head. He’d never seen her more enticing than now, her sleepy countenance drawing his attention even more than the bit of bosom she’d revealed the previous night in the lovely green gown she’d worn. At least this morning she’d been covered in a nightgown that hid her inevitably fine figure, one that he tried his best to ignore.

Glad for the diversion of business, he had three appointments today in Newport—two concerned the possible purchase of a new schooner for his fleet, and the third was with Lillie Jenkins, the widowed wife of his good friend Stephen. They’d already had a preliminary meeting in Tiverton several weeks prior, regarding the collaboration of their companies—in fact, it was the very day he’d met Alice at the train station, having escorted Lillie for her return to Newport. Now that she’d had time to consider his proposal, he hoped she would see the benefit to both of them.

In the evening was the Christmas party at Daniel Endicott’s home. James had decided during the night, while he slumbered uncomfortably on a sofa mere feet from the sleeping form of his beautiful wife, that he wouldn’t take her to such an event, Frank be damned. James could play his hand just fine with Endicott without putting Alice through any undue discomfort.

* * * *

Alice scooped her red plaid skirt with one hand and stepped from the carriage into a brisk December wind, gray skies threatening rain or sleet. Despite this, she released the driver and buggy, knowing that she could walk back to the Ocean House when she was done. It was several blocks, but she anticipated a long visit. She was grateful that she’d purchased new boots in Tiverton before the journey. It had been an indulgence to be certain—a fine set made of wool gingham with a stacked wood heel. The best part was the cream cotton twill lining that felt like butter on her feet. Walking would be no hardship, even if it rained.

She dashed quickly toward the seamstress shop owned by Vera McAdams. A bell jingled as she opened and shut the door. Alice untied the ribbon at her chin and removed her bonnet, then pulled the black gloves from her hands. A few ladies browsed and spoke with a young woman. Alice smiled and gazed at the lovely attire on display.

Would James like her in the pink wool bodice and skirt trimmed with ivory lace? Or perhaps the more modest navy silk day dress with long sleeves and pleated shoulders?

A petite elderly woman appeared from a back room. Alice smiled broadly when their eyes met.

“Alice?”

“Yes, Vera. It’s me.”

Alice embraced the woman, fighting back tears. She held on, so grateful to see her mother’s dear friend.

Alice had been in this shop many times, first with her mama as a child, and then as a young lady, alone. Vera McAdams had offered friendship and comfort after the death of Hazel Endicott, when Alice had desperately needed it.

“Oh child, it is so good to see you,” Vera whispered against her ear.

Alice leaned back as Vera’s scent of roses clung to her and fought the urge to crawl once more into the woman’s arms.

“When I heard you’d left...” Vera smiled up at Alice and gently patted her cheek. “I was so worried about you, but I did get your letter. Why are you back? Are you still working at the factory?”

“No. There was a fire and all was lost.” Alice took a deep breath. “It’s a long story. Would you be able to visit for a bit?”

“Yes, of course.” Vera turned to the young girl assisting the two women. “Betsy, I’ll be in the back taking a break. Come get me if you need any help.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Betsy answered.

Alice removed the sage-green jacket then settled into a chair while Vera disappeared to make tea in the kitchen. A widow for many years, Vera had turned her home into a dress shop to support herself.

She returned with a tray filled with tea and cookies. Her eyes lit up when she looked at Alice’s dress. “Why, that’s very beautiful work.”

Alice had loved the plaid pattern as soon as she’d seen it, and the shawl—draped over the bustle and fastened at the waist—was a unique adornment.

“Where did you get it?” Vera asked.

“A wonderful shop in Fall River, near Tiverton, though not as wonderful as yours.”

Vera poured the tea. “Did Endicott buy this for you?”

“No. My husband did.”

Vera glanced up, surprise clear on her face. “Did you marry William Evans?”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that.” Alice accepted the tea from Vera and took a sip. She proceeded to tell the woman everything that had happened—beginning with her flight from Daniel Endicott to her job at the factory in Massachusetts to the fire that left her in dire need of a new situation. “Miss McDaniel really had all the girls’ best interests at heart. Becoming a mail-order bride was a perfect solution in so many ways.”

“I’ve heard of such arrangements, but don’t the brides-to-be generally travel out west?”

“Yes, there’s a greater need for women out there. But in my case, a suitor came forward and requested me specifically. And, as it turns out, he was from Rhode Island.”

“That’s remarkably convenient.” Vera’s eyes dimmed.

“I will admit, it seemed odd to me, but I was terribly eager to return to Rhode Island. In the end, however, I didn’t marry him. Instead, I wed his brother.”

“Why did his brother marry you? Is he...unable to gain a wife in any other way?”

“No. Not at all. He’s quite handsome, in fact. He owns his own company. He’s perfect in almost every way.”

“Except...”

“Vera, I have no one to turn to, so I must ask you—is it normal for a husband to wait on the marriage bed?”

Vera set her saucer and cup onto the coffee table and smoothed her hands along her deep blue skirt. Her hands bore dark spots, and her knuckles bulged. When had Vera become old? “You and your husband haven’t consummated the marriage?”

Alice shook her head.

“Well, perhaps he thinks to make the transition easier for you.”

“But there could be another reason, correct?”

“Alice dear.” Vera smiled and patted her hand. “It’s not for me to pass judgment on something of which I know nothing about. But an unconsummated marriage is more easily dissolved than one that is, at least in the eyes of God.”

A bad feeling settled into the pit of Alice’s stomach. “He plans to divorce me?”

Concern filled Vera’s gaze. “Does he know that Daniel Endicott is your stepfather?”

“Yes, but I didn’t tell him until after we’d met.”

“But before you married?”

“Yes, but...” Alice considered the chain of events. She’d reflected briefly over them the night before, but had hoped that she was entirely wrong. “Why would he care if Endicott is my father? I left him. There’s nothing to be gained.”

“Your husband could believe that you still stand to receive a sizable inheritance.”

Alice shook her head. “That’s not possible. Besides, I hardly think Daniel Endicott will leave me one penny. And I’m fine with that. I don’t want any ties to him.” She stared down at her hands. “I’m now Alice Martel, and I sincerely hope to remain that way. That’s why I wanted to know if you had any advice about how to woo my husband and make him never desire another but me—” Alice stopped short when she looked up to find a stricken look on Vera’s face.

“What is it?” asked Alice. “What’s wrong?”

“Martel, you say?”

Dread filled Alice. “Yes, why?”

“I’m afraid you’re not going to like this, dear.”