understand. I shall do my best.”
He straightened, looked at her. It should have been Linda standing there—rushing into his arms... “Look, Audrey—”
“I’m not going home, Blake.” Her hazel eyes bored straight into his. “Not until you have solved the problem Linda has caused you with the store.”
The resolve in her eyes, her stiff posture—everything said she meant it. Well, he’d given her every chance to stop this foolish plan and go home. And she was right—marrying her was the only way to save his investment and not walk away from the store penniless. At least he would salvage something from the ruins of his hopes and plans for the future. And what did the marriage matter? The farce would be over soon enough. He’d think of something. “Very well, then.” He ignored the sickening ache in his chest, pushed her satchel aside and opened the door. “Let’s go. I don’t want to keep Pastor Karl waiting. And, remember...we’re supposed to be in love.”
* * *
May the Lord bless your union with many years of health and happiness.
The pastor’s parting words echoed in her mind with every step she took back to the store. Audrey stole a quick glance at Blake through her lowered lashes and wished she could say or do something that would ease his tension. But that was unlikely as she was the cause of that tension. She took a breath and glanced down at his hand holding her elbow, grateful for its support as she forced her shaky legs to climb the steps to the porch.
Blake released her elbow, led her inside and picked up her satchel. “This way.”
His voice sounded as if his throat had gravel in it. Her heart squeezed. How horrible for him to have had to endure that marriage ceremony with her when he’d just learned the woman he loved had wed another. She remembered the raw hurt when John had cast her aside to make an advantageous marriage. She bit back words of apology and commiseration and followed Blake into the dark interior. Sympathy would do no good. Words could not ease the pain of an aching heart.
She stole another glance at Blake, but the store was too dark and shadowed to see clearly. He led her through a door at the back into another, smaller room, his footsteps and the rustle of her skirt loud in the silence. How much effort it must have cost him to pretend to be a happy bridegroom when he was suffering from her sister’s betrayal. What inner strength he had! Even she hadn’t detected his hidden emotions until the pastor pronounced them man and wife, and he’d kissed her.
She raised her hand and touched her fingertips to her tender lips. Thankfully, the pastor had interpreted Blake’s vehemence as love, not anger. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. How he must have hated being forced to kiss her, to pretend—
“Wait a moment until I light the lamp, Audrey. It’s not safe for you to climb the stairs in this dim light.”
She blinked the tears away and squared her shoulders. A match flared. Blake lifted the globe of a hanging lamp and touched the match to its wick. Light spread over the area and highlighted the taut features of his face. She looked up the open stairs into a soft circle of light at the top. The home he’d meant to share with Linda was up there. Her breath shortened. Oh, Lord, what have I done? This is madness! I can’t—
“Do you want me to go first?”
Blake’s strained voice snapped her thoughts back to him. Her discomfort was nothing compared to the turmoil of emotions he had to be experiencing. She shook her head, gripped the railing and started to climb.
The stairs led to a U-shaped interior hall lit by a pewter oil lamp sitting on a shelf centered between two doorways in the wall they faced. Blake gestured toward the door on the left. “That’s the sitting room. You’ll find it sparsely furnished. I thought—” He stopped, stood beside the door for her to precede him.
He’s thinking about what was to have been. Talk about things! Distract him. She stepped into the dark room and swept her gaze over the furnishings: lamp stands, a chest, two armchairs with cushions facing a settee. Light from the hall lamp shone on the padded arm. Blue damask. Linda’s favorite color. She looked at Blake and forced out words. “It’s lovely. And more than sufficient.”
He nodded, and she followed him back out into the hall, glanced toward a door he indicated on their right. “That’s my office.” He swept his hand toward a door at the end of the short hallway. “And a bedroom.”
She drew a breath, found a bit of courage and spoke before it fled. “Is that where I—”
“No. The room is empty but for a cot. I’ll sleep there.”
She started to protest, noticed his taut face and kept quiet.
Lamplight gleamed on Blake’s dark hair and broad shoulders as he walked past the stairwell and gestured toward that second open doorway now on their left. “That’s the kitchen.”
She glanced into the dark room. The light from the hall gleamed on the polished wood of a dining table surrounded by Hitchcock chairs. It was all she could see in the quick glimpse. She stifled a wish to look around the kitchen and hurried after Blake, almost bumping into his back when he stopped at the door centered in the short hall at the right of the stairs that formed the second arm of the U.
“This is the dressing room. You’ll find everything you need in it—piped-in water, a bathing tub...” That muscle along his jaw jumped. “Towels and other necessities—soaps and creams and such—are in a cupboard.”
All bought for Linda. Her stomach flopped. She couldn’t—
“I’ll light the lamp.” He did so quickly then stepped back out into the hall and opened the door across from the kitchen at the end of the short hall. “This is where you will sleep. You can hang your gowns in here.” He yanked open a door on a cavernous wardrobe, set her satchel down, strode to a nightstand beside a four-poster and lit the lamp. Golden light glittered on a small heart-shaped silver box, spilled onto a beautiful blue-and-white woven coverlet on the bed.
Her gaze froze on the heart-shaped silver box and the thumb of her left hand turned inward, touched the ring on her finger—Linda’s ring. She lifted her gaze to Blake’s rigid back, remembered the tremor that had shook his hand when he’d pulled the ring from his suit coat pocket and put it on her finger. She slipped the ring off and cupped it in her hand.
Blake scrubbed his hand over his eyes and turned, his face as fixed as stone. “I’ll go to the station and get your trunks. You’ll be wanting to settle in.” He strode out into the hall and walked down the stairs.
She lifted her hand, stared down at the circle of gold on her palm and thought of all it stood for—of what it meant to Blake. Tears blurred her vision. She blinked them away, walked to the nightstand and put the ring in the box. It was difficult enough to live with the knowledge that your betrothed rejected the love you carried in your heart for them without seeing a reminder all day. She might stand in Linda’s place, but she’d not wear the symbol of Blake’s love for her.
* * *
Blake threw a blanket over the cot he’d slept on while his store was being built, then turned away before he broke the folding bed into pieces. The quiet sounds from the other bedroom stabbed into him like knives. He wished Audrey would put off unpacking the trunks he’d brought from the depot until tomorrow when he was downstairs at the store. But he had no good reason to ask her to do so. He couldn’t tell her the truth—that every rustle of movement reminded him of
