Judith Stacy - The Marriage Mishap

Quietly he opened the door and light from behind him beamed into the room. She was a bulge under the coverlet, curled on her side facing him. He heard the light, even breathing of her slumbers and wished to hell he’d tossed the McKettrick plans aside and come upstairs as he wanted to. But Haley represented an important element of a long-range plan. No need to rush with her; she’d be here forever.

Adam leaned his shoulder against the door casing and took another sip of the bourbon. He wished he could remember actually marrying her, or at least what had led up to his doing such a rash thing. He remembered being quite captivated by the sight of her, and asking friends if anyone knew her. The Olivers’ wedding ceremony had been stoic, as expected, and the reception predictable until the old guard left. Things had gotten completely out of hand after that. Vaguely he recalled reciting vows, images of Harry Oliver and Judge Williams fading in and out.

Adam looked down at the bourbon and swirled it in the glass. He must have had more than his usual too much last night.

He might have kept her regardless of her background, after spending last night rolling around in bed with her. That much of the evening he remembered with great clarity. But after Oscar informed him of her social standing, he could hardly believe his luck. No more women throwing their eligible daughters and nieces at him. No more teas, receptions or piano recitals to sit through in his search for an acceptable wife. Now he had her. And without the bother of the endless engagement parties, the wedding preparations, the ceremony and all the silly hoopla that went with it.

And no chance that the bride would change her mind.

Adam tossed back the last of the bourbon and drew in a deep, satisfying breath. He had it all. His new home and his wife. He was on his way. What could possibly go wrong now?

Haley pushed her hair off her shoulder and peered over the thick coverlet. Morning sunlight sifted through the white gossamer drapes across the room. She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Another strange room.

She fell back on the pillow and lifted her arm. At least this morning she had on her own nightgown.

“Morning, Miss Haley.”

She pushed herself up higher on the pillows and saw Chrissy sorting through her clothing at the bureau. “Is it?”

She smiled brightly. “I know you slept like a hound in the shade. Would you just look at this place? I talked to the other servants this morning and learned that Mr. Harrington designed this whole place himself and had it built just like he wanted it. Marble all the way from Italy, paintings from France. Why, those stained-glass windows downstairs came all the way from England. The whole other end of this floor is the nursery. And there’s four bathrooms—four! Can you believe it?”

Haley gazed at the lace canopy over her head and the pristine white eyelet quilt covering her. A delicate blue-and-white print paper covered the walls, and a deep blue carpet stretched the length of the large room. The furniture was cherry. A new scent clung to everything, as if the room had been waiting for her.

“You’d better get up, if you’re wanting to have breakfast with your new mister.” Chrissy approached the bed. “Everybody says he’s as fussy as a hen with one chick when it comes to his schedule. That Bernard fella? He’s got the mister’s whole day written down on paper—carries it around with him all the time.”

“Lovely…” Haley got out of bed and stretched.

“Over there, that’s a bathroom.” Chrissy pointed across the room. “And the other door is a sitting room. It’s got a big ol’ desk in it, and chairs softer than goose down. Your mister’s bedroom is on the other side.” She giggled. “But you probably know that already, huh.”

Haley headed toward the bathroom door, ignoring the maid’s insinuation. She knew nothing more of her husband than she had when he abandoned her in the foyer with Bernard. If he’d come to her room with romantic notions during the night, she’d slept through them.

Her feet slowed on the thick carpet. What if he had come? She remembered little of the night before, at the Madison. Had he been here last night and she’d forgotten that too? Haley shook her head. Surely, one of these nights she would remain alert and aware of his overtures.

She stepped onto the cold tile of the bathroom floor grinding her fists in her eyes. She yawned loudly and stretched, rising on her toes, reaching toward the ceiling.

“Good morning.”

She squealed and spun around. Adam. He stood before the mirror at the sink, his shoulders twisted so that he could look at her. A white towel wrapped his hips; long, muscular legs showed below it, bulging arms above it. Foamy shaving soap covered half his face.

The breath went out of her. “I—I didn’t know…”

A shudder passed through Adam, reverberating until it slammed low in his belly. Oh, God, she was beautiful, all tousled and rumpled and disheveled. Just the sight of her made him want to—

He grabbed another towel from the rack by the sink and held it in front of him, trying to look casual. He gestured with the razor in his hand. “The bath joins our rooms.”

She glanced through the open door and saw the same rich blue carpet as in her own room, and a heavy cherry four-poster bed made neatly with a blue quilt. Adam’s bedroom. She felt her knees weaken.

“I designed it that way. I designed this whole end of the house as a suite for my wife.”

He gestured with the razor again, and she saw the dark hair beneath his arm, the curls across his chest, the line that arrowed into the towel below his navel.

“It’s…magnificent,” she breathed.

“That tub?” He pointed to the claw-footed white porcelain bathtub. “I had it specially made in Philadelphia. It’s seven feet long—the only one like it in the country. The whole house is wired for electricity. As soon as Sacramento Electric Power and Light figures how to generate current more than five miles at a stretch, we’ll have it.”

“Sir, it is now 6:42.” Bernard appeared in the doorway to Adam’s bedroom. “Oh, begging your pardon, sir.”

“I’m going to work,” he explained to Haley.

“I see.” She thought she might actually explode at any second from the extreme heat boiling inside her.

“I’ll be finished here in—”

“Seven minutes, sir,” Bernard intoned.

“Seven minutes.” Adam gestured toward the tub. “Unless you’d like to go ahead and…”

Her skin tingled, and parts of her felt suddenly heavy. “No, no, I’ll wait.” She backed toward the door.

He took a step forward, clutching the towel. “I’ll have Bernard work out a morning schedule for us.”

“Fine.” Haley escaped into her own room. As she closed the door, she caught sight of Chrissy craning her neck.

“He’s quite the looker, if I can say so, ma’am.”

Haley frantically fanned herself with her palms. Why was it so hot in here? “Open a window, Chrissy.”

“I’m going over to your aunt’s house this afternoon to get the rest of your things.” Chrissy hoisted the window and gave Haley a look over her shoulder. “Edward is taking me.”

“Edward?”

“Mr. Harrington’s driver, the one who brought us over here last night.” She smiled. “We got to talking and all. He lives right here, got a place all to himself over the carriage house. Well, now, let’s get you ready. I know you don’t want to keep your new mister waiting.”

But he didn’t wait. Haley found Adam in the foyer, talking with Bernard, readying to leave.

“Have the gardener continue on the rose beds.”

Bernard nodded sedately as he assisted Adam into his jacket. “Yes, sir.”