Judith Stacy - The Marriage Mishap

“That’s all I found…so far.”

It was enough. Haley pushed the door closed and dug through her purse. She found her comb and twisted her hair into a simple chignon. The fasteners on her gown were nearly impossible without help from her maid, but she closed as many of them as she could. She dared not look at herself in the mirror. Pulling herself up to her greatest height, Haley walked into the bedchamber again.

Jingling coins drew her attention to the window. Hands thrust deep in his pockets, the man stood looking outside, his profile outlined by the bright, sunlit sky. He wore tan trousers and a sleeveless undershirt that molded itself to his tight belly and wide chest; dark hair curled above the scooped neck. His shoulders were straight, his arms muscular.

Haley held up the white linen shirt she’d brought from the bathroom and willed herself not to blush. “This must belong to you.”

He accepted it and dropped it on the table in front of the window. “I think we’re at the Madison.”

“A hotel?” Haley peered out the window at the trolley cars, horses and carriages on the street below. Her stomach rolled violently. “We’re at a hotel?”

He nodded. “Do you need help with your gown?”

Stunned by the familiarity of his offer, she looked up at him sharply. “No—I…”

He stepped behind her. “We can’t have you walking through the lobby with your gown undone. People might get the wrong idea.”

She felt his hands against her back as he closed the fasteners. Her skin tingled at his touch.

He stepped away and slid his hand into his pocket again, jingling his coins. “Do you want me to have breakfast sent up for you?”

Haley pressed her palm against her stomach. “No, no, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat again.”

“Head hurt, too?”

She looked up at him. “Yes. How did you know?”

“You have a hangover. What you need is another drink.” He rubbed his forehead. “And so do I.”

Her back stiffened. “I do not drink. Why, I only took one sip of champagne yesterday to toast the bride and groom. After that, I only drank the punch.”

“You were at the wedding?”

“Yes, I was.”

He gazed down critically. “As an invited guest?”

Her chin went up a notch, and she clamped her mouth shut. He didn’t need to know that her aunt was a friend of the bride’s family. Nor did he need to learn that she had arrived in Sacramento less than a week ago, escaping the fiasco in San Francisco that had turned her own mother against her and set her on an unexpected path.

He shrugged. “Well, remember not to drink the punch at any more weddings. It’s the best way to avoid a hangover—and a lot of other things, too.”

Haley pinched the bridge of her nose and drew in a deep breath. So, she’d gotten drunk out of her mind and fallen into bed with a strange man. How humiliating.

Pulling together the last shreds of her dignity, Haley looked up at him. “I’m leaving, Mr.—”

He gave her a stiff bow. “Adam Harrington, at your service, madam.”

“Harrington?” Haley thought she might faint now. He was a member of one of the oldest, most prominent families in Sacramento, and she’d behaved like a common streetwalker. With all the aplomb she could muster, Haley turned to leave.

“Wait. Let me see you home.”

“I hardly think that would be proper, Mr. Harrington.” When he grinned, she realized how ridiculous she sounded, and that made her angry.

“You’ll at least need money for a hansom cab.” He searched through his trousers, then picked up his coat from the chair and went through the pockets.

Her chin went up. “Mr. Harrington, I have no idea how I came into these circumstances, but I am fairly certain it couldn’t have happened without some help on your part. So you can rest assured that you have done more than enough for one day. In fact, I would say that if I never lay eyes on you again in my life, that would be too soon.” Jaw set, Haley marched across the room.

“Excuse me?”

Annoyed, Haley stopped at the door. “What?”

“Would you happen to be Haley Caufield?”

She turned and saw him reading from a crumpled paper he’d removed from his coat pocket. “Yes, I am.”

“Haley Carissa Caufield?”

A chill swept up her spine. “Yes.”

“You might want to wait a minute before leaving.” She sighed heavily. “Why would I want to do that?”

He looked up at her. “Because, Miss Caufield, it would seem that you and I are married.”

“Breathe…That’s right. Just keep breathing.”

Haley lifted her head, and the room spun around her before strong hands pressed her onto the pillow again. She blinked, and a face came into focus, freezing the image in her mind. She moaned. “I thought you were a nightmare, but you’re real, aren’t you?”

Adam sat down on the edge of the bed. “Not every woman considers an evening with me a nightmare.”

Haley moaned again and flopped her hand onto her forehead. “I’m happy for you, truly I am, Mr.—” She looked up at him. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

Annoyed, he sat up straighter. “Don’t you remember anything that happened?”

“On the contrary, the point where you announced our marriage is forever etched in my mind.” Haley shook her head slowly. “As if I’d been run through with a sword, a rusty sword—a dull, rusty sword with ragged edges.”

“You must remember…” Adam frowned and waved his hand across the bed.

Haley shrugged helplessly. “No.”

“Not even when you and I…?”

She shook her head.

“Or when you—”

“I did something?” Haley’s eyes bulged. “What did I do?”

“You did it three times—I’d think you’d remember,” Adam grumbled, and rose from the bed.

“Well, do you remember?” she asked challengingly.

He glared at her with wounded pride. “And who says marriage doesn’t have its tender moments?”

“Are you sure we’re really married?” Haley sat up, and the room spun again. Adam grasped her shoulders and steadied her; his hands felt strong.

His gaze captured hers. “Maybe you should lie down.”

That was how she’d gotten into this mess in the first place. Haley looked up, and for an instant felt lost in his green eyes, brilliant as emeralds and nearly as mesmerizing. She pushed his hands away and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Where’s that paper you found?”

Adam took it from the bedside table. “Executed by Judge Williams himself, and properly witnessed by Harry and Laurel Oliver.”

“The newlyweds?” Haley opened the paper and read the words, saw the signatures and the official seal.

“I’ve known Harry Oliver for years. He works at the courthouse.” Adam shrugged. “I don’t know how it can get any more legal than that.”

“We got married at someone else’s wedding?” Haley curled her lips distastefully. “Is that done?”

Adam plowed his fingers through his hair. “It must have been at the reception, because I remember the ceremony.”

Haley’s gaze came up quickly and met his. “You don’t remember, either? I thought it was only me.”

Adam shifted, and his gaze wandered across the bed. “Parts of it, I remember very well.”

Haley’s cheeks pinkened. “At least this explains how I got here.”

Adam crossed the room and retrieved his shirt. “And how I got here, as well. Believe me, Miss Caufield, I’m not in the habit of deflowering innocent young women.”

Haley looked back at the bed, then sprang off it. She smoothed down her gown, reaching for any modicum of dignity she could muster. “This can’t be happening.”