Judith Stacy - The Marriage Mishap

“Have you thought of a way for us to get out of this, Mr. Harrington?”

“No. But, truthfully, I didn’t try.”

“Why not?” Anger flushed her skin—or was it his gaze? “Are you suggesting we remain married?”

He shrugged. “Why shouldn’t we?”

She planted her hand on her hip. “Has it occurred to you, Mr. Harrington, that we don’t love each other?”

He uttered a cynical laugh. “Did you think you’d marry for love?”

Obviously, he hadn’t. But she had, despite what everyone had told her; she’d proved it, too.

“Who’s to say we won’t grow fond of each other?”

“Grow fond of each other? Frankly, Mr. Harrington, I had something more in mind.”

His innards flamed. He dug his fingers into the back of the chair. God, he wanted this woman. “We are already married. We can’t just ignore it.”

He sounded so reasonable, Haley wanted to hit him.

He shrugged. “There’s no reason why marriage should interfere with anything we’re already doing.”

Her back stiffened. “Interfere?”

“Yes. I’ll continue on with my business, and you’ll continue on with whatever it is women do all day. Only you’ll do it from my home instead of your aunt’s. What’s so wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with it, Mr. Harrington, is that it sounds like a business arrangement, instead of a marriage. I won’t be a party to this sham.”

“We took vows, legally and morally.” Surely they had; he’d have felt better if he could remember some of it.

“Legal, moral…Words, Mr. Harrington, nothing more. I want a divorce, and that’s final.”

Haley whipped around and headed for the door.

“Miss Caufield.”

The stern tone of his voice stopped her. She turned on him. His face was set in firm lines, tight with controlled anger. But he didn’t frighten her. He only caused her own anger to grow.

He stepped from behind the chair. “I won’t put my family through the shame of divorce. And you, I’d think, would not want a scandal.” His eyes narrowed. “Again.”

She felt as if he’d slapped her face. He knew. Somehow he’d learned of her debacle in San Francisco. Damn him…

Whatever had happened to her in San Francisco must have been the scandal of scandals, Adam realized as he watched the color drain from her cheeks. He wished he’d had more time to find out exactly what it was. He’d taken the private detective’s word that it wasn’t serious. Maybe he’d have Oscar check into it further, just for the hell of it. Regardless, the Harrington name would shield her from whatever infraction of the rules of etiquette she’d committed in the past.

Haley drew in a deep breath. The look of smug superiority on his face rankled her. He was getting his way, and he knew it. But the part she hated most was that he was right, and there was nothing she could do about it.

“I don’t seem to have a choice, do I?” Haley’s chin went up a notch as she clung to her pride.

Adam pulled his watch from the pocket of his waistcoat and flipped it open. “I have to be home in one hour. I’ll send for your things in the morning. Pack what you’ll need for tonight.”

“Tonight?”

He tucked his watch away and looked across the room at her. “I want my wife in my home tonight.”

“You sound as if you intend to install me there, like a piece of furniture. Should I plan to stand stationary, so that you can hang a picture over my head?”

What a spitfire. Adam’s belly warmed again, just when he’d gotten himself under control. He couldn’t wait to get her home.

A slow smile spread across his face. “I assure you, having you stand stationary is the furthest thing from my mind. I have other plans.”

She took a step closer. “I have plans of my own, Mr. Harrington.”

“As I said, I don’t feel this marriage should unduly interfere with our lives.”

“You can count on it.” Haley flung the words at him and marched from the room.

Despite her best efforts to exceed her husband’s deadline, Haley was packed and ready to leave within the hour. She looked around the bedchamber that had been her home for only a few days and felt a pang of sorrow at leaving. Or was it remorse? Haley pushed the thought away and slumped down on the pale green coverlet.

“I reckon that’s about it, Miss Haley.”

“Thank you, Chrissy.” She watched the maid close the latches on the trunk. Petite, with a head full of auburn curls always escaping her white cap, the young maid had attended her since her arrival at Aunt Harriet’s. Haley would miss her bubbly personality, marked so strongly by her Georgia accent.

“Lordy-day, Miss Haley, I hope you don’t mind, but I caught me a look at that new husband of yours.” Chrissy shook her head appreciatively. “He’s as handsome as Texas and as big as a bull on an auction block. Marriage to him is gonna be more fun than Christmas morning.”

Haley sprang off the bed. “Thank you, Chrissy. That will be all.”

“Oh, sure.” She turned, but paused with her hand on the doorknob. “I just want to say, Miss Haley, I’m privileged to have looked after you here. I kinda wish you weren’t going. But I hope good things come your way.”

Suddenly Chrissy seemed very dear to her. The thought of going to a strange home, knowing no one, loomed, daunting, in her mind.

A soft knock sounded on the door. Chrissy opened it, and Aunt Harriet stepped inside. She gazed at the trunks, then at Haley. “Mr. Harrington is waiting.”

“I’m ready. No, wait, Chrissy, don’t go yet.” The young maid stopped in the doorway, and Haley turned to her aunt. “I’d like to take Chrissy with me, if you don’t mind. Just until I get settled.”

Aunt Harriet considered the matter for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, that will be fine. Run along, Chrissy, and pack a bag. Mr. Harrington is growing impatient.”

Chrissy squeezed her arms together, holding in a squeal of delight, and hurried away.

Slowly, Aunt Harriet closed the door and turned to Haley. She drew in a deep breath and folded her hands together primly. “Haley, there is something we must discuss. Sit down.”

“What’s wrong?” Haley perched on the edge of the bed.

“Your mother should be speaking with you on the subject, but since she’s not here, I feel I must take matters into my own hands.” She nodded slowly. “I think that’s what she would want me to do.”

Haley had no idea what her aunt was going on about, but if it delayed her departure, it was fine with her. “Yes, I’m sure Mother would agree.”

“It’s about relations.” She pursed her lips meaningfully. Color rose in her cheeks. “Marital relations.”

“Oh. That.” Haley didn’t know how to tell her aunt that she was about twenty-four hours late with this little talk.

She drew herself up, forcing herself to go on. “You are a well-bred lady. Your mother has seen to that. You’re expected to act a certain way, conduct yourself with proper decorum, regardless of the circumstances.”

She’d spent hours in etiquette classes, and many more reading from the volumes of books available on the subject. None of them, however, had mentioned the subject that was causing Aunt Harriet so much distress.

“Husbands, well-bred gentlemen like Mr. Harrington, expect their wives to behave as ladies.” Aunt Harriet’s brows pulled together. “At all times.”

Haley sat up straighter, and her gaze wandered across the bed. “They do?”

She nodded wisely. “They do.”

“But—” Now she was confused. What she could remember of last night, and what she knew of the condition she’d found herself in this morning and Adam’s response to it, she couldn’t have behaved in anything near a ladylike manner. But he’d seemed pleased by it. “Are you sure?”