The Rancher's Inconvenient Bride Read online

  There were two more dresses upstairs, but she would not risk ruining them, either.

  “How hungry are you, William?”

  He spun her about and opened two pearly buttons at her nape. The heat of his breathing brushed her skin. “Hungrier than I thought.”

  “Are there eggs and bacon in the kitchen? Bread for toast?”

  “I assume so—but it’s been a long day. Let’s think about food tomorrow.”

  “But you said you were hungry.”

  His breath skimmed the back of her neck, his fingers clenched briefly on her shoulders. “Very—but I’m also tired.”

  “Let’s sleep, then.” At least she didn’t have to risk ruining anything lovely by cooking in it.

  Cool air touched her back when two more buttons fell open, which reminded her. “What happened to my wedding kiss?”

  Why was it that, around William, she blurted out what was on her mind so readily?

  “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you married me.”

  Three buttons popped free all at one time.

  “And I’m grateful that you kept me from being blown out of a cannon.”

  The hall clock ticked away a long silence. Outside, the wind didn’t sound loud as it had.

  With a quick flick of his fingers, William freed the button at the small of her spine. The front of the gown sagged so she grabbed it close to her chest.

  “Can you manage the stairs?” he asked, taking a deep breath, then several steps away from her. “If it’s too trying I can give you a downstairs bedroom.”

  Ivy and Travis shared a bedroom.

  “I managed them fine a short while ago.” It would not be a hardship to share a bed with William. “I’m no longer an invalid. You don’t need to fear for my health.”

  “I owe you, Agatha.” Dragging his fingers through his hair, he frowned at the floor then looked up at her. “I’ll take care to make sure no harm comes to you.”

  “Really, I don’t know why it would. I believe that I’ve proved that I can take care of myself—unless someone is forcing me into a cannon and I doubt that will happen again.”

  “I imagine not. But you are mine to protect, nonetheless.”

  The bodice of her dress flopped down when she balled her fists and anchored them at her waist, but she did not care at the moment.

  “If a situation arises in which I do not feel comfortable, I will let you know—then you may protect me to your heart’s content.” She wagged her finger at him, which was not quite polite but her temper was heating by the second. How odd was it that for most of her life she hadn’t known she had a temper. It must have been drugged out of her. “But I must—and will deal with problems on my own.”

  “Of course.”

  He caught her hand, folded it up in his. “I was speaking of getting you with child.”

  An image of tangled bed sheets and entwined limbs flashed in her mind. Secret kisses and touches. Heat pulsed in every nerve of her body, especially—

  “I won’t endanger you that way.”

  What? She yanked her hand free, remembered that her bodice was dangling about her waist and decided to let it remain there.

  “I might have something to say about that, William.”

  Outside the creak and rattle of a wagon passing by filled a long silence between them. A dog barked. Tanners Ridge was coming to life.

  So was Agatha Marigold English.

  Chapter Five

  “Mighty glad the wind has stopped.”

  Walking down the boardwalk toward Hamilton London’s Steak House and looking forward to a late lunch, William patted Agatha’s hand where it nestled in the crook of his arm.

  He liked the way it fit. While not even twelve hours into marriage, he thought his union with Agatha might be a success, for all that it was unanticipated.

  Agatha sure did look fetching in the green gown he’d purchased in the wee hours of the morning. With her red hair and green eyes—there was no denying that Mrs. William English was a beautiful woman.

  Funny how he’d never noticed that. In his eyes she had always been Foster Magee’s sickly girl.

  For all her loveliness, she did seem nervous.

  And why wouldn’t she be? He was nervous and he was accustomed to speaking with people. He would have to take care not to overtax her with social events. Although there would be some she would need to attend.

  Or perhaps her agitation had nothing to do with facing society’s challenges.

  It could be that her nervousness had to do with him.

  No doubt she was uneasy about so suddenly becoming a wife. He could hardly blame her for that.

  Last night, he’d tried to assure her that she had nothing to fear from him, that he would never force his husbandly attentions upon her, but that conversation had only left her looking even more distressed.

  It hadn’t felt right bringing up such an intimate topic with an innocent—but it had been necessary. In most cases, sexual intimacy was at the heart of a marriage.

  But not this marriage.

  Had he married Ivy or Aimee, even, things would be different. They were healthy women and his husbandly attentions would not put them at such a great risk.

  His wife was not like them—although it seemed as though she thought she might be.

  Unfortunately for him, each hour he spent with his bride tempted him to wonder what it would be like to share the marriage bed with her.

  Fantasizing was as far as he would take it, though, because the line between fantasy and nightmare could be a narrow one.

  If he thought otherwise all he had to do was remember being a child, recall the joy he anticipated over the birth of his baby sister, then the crushing sorrow of holding her lifeless newborn body.

  Giving birth was hard enough on a strong woman. Putting Agatha in that situation was out of the question.

  He grunted under his breath, forcing his thoughts in another direction—toward lunch because he was ravenous.

  Near the door of the restaurant, Agatha stopped suddenly. She glanced behind, squeezing his arm.

  “What is it, honey?”

  “Nothing—just a shadow.” She smiled up at him a bit too brightly. “And a chill.”

  A chill on a July afternoon! “Are you well?”

  “Of course. Although, I wish people were not staring at us as if we’d just tumbled from the moon.”

  “They’ll get used to it,” he said, leading her to his favorite table in a bay window overlooking the street. “All they need is a little time.”

  “Like us, I suppose.”

  He pulled out her chair. After she was seated he took the one across from her.

  “I hope it wasn’t fear of me that gave you a chill, Agatha. You have no need to fear me.”

  She removed her gloves slowly, one then the other while she held his gaze. “It wasn’t you.”

  Probably not. A woman who was uneasy in his presence would not look at him so steadfastly.

  “There was a shadow. It shifted suddenly and reminded me of my nurse, Hilda Brunne.”

  Shadow was a good way of describing Brunne. He’d only seen her a couple of times and only once close up, but he knew her to be a dark soul.

  “I imagine, given time I won’t see her lurking in dim places.”

  “It’s a shame they never found her body. It might be easier for you if they had.”

  “I suppose when I come to the point that I find her body inside of me, lay her to rest in my soul, I guess I mean, then it will be all right.”

  “Did you get any sleep this morning?”

  “Strangely, yes. I slept quite well.” For some reason that made her blush. “How did you sleep?”

  His wife looked pre
tty with a pink tint in her cheeks. It made her eyes look greener, her hair a more vibrant red.

  “Not well, I’ll confess. There was a something gnawing at me and I couldn’t let it go.”

  “Life has dealt us a change. It’s no wonder you were restless.”

  “It’s not that. I think we’ll make a go of it.” He reached across the table, traced the lines of her palm, then squeezed her hand in reassurance. Of course he wasn’t sure which of them he was reassuring. “What were you doing working for the circus, Agatha? Last time I saw you, you could barely walk. Does your sister know where you are? I can scarce believe she allowed you to leave home alone.”

  “You need not have lost sleep over that, William. First of all, even though I was dressed the part, I am not a coochie girl or anything of the sort. I worked in the chuck wagon helping to prepare meals. Second, as you see, I can walk. And as for Ivy allowing me? She is my sister, not my keeper.” She folded her hands in front of her, leaned forward. “I’ll admit, she wasn’t happy about my choice. But I didn’t come alone. Laura Lee, one of the kitchen girls at the Lucky Clover, came with me.”

  “But the circus?” He shook his head. “Why not do something safe in Cheyenne?”

  “Oh, we didn’t begin at the circus. We started out somewhere else.”

  A waitress set two steaming cups of rich brown coffee on the table even though they had not yet ordered. It was how he usually began his meal at the steak house and he figured the woman was eager for a close look at his bride.

  “It was for the best, I think,” she said with a nod.

  Agatha blew her coffee before she sipped it. Her mouth formed an intriguing—no it did not! Even if it did he would not look at it.

  “Safe is not what I needed, but it is where I have ended up, I suppose.” She arched a brow at him.

  He was glad that she considered him safe. He was her husband now and it was his God-given duty to protect her.

  The challenge was going to be watching over her without letting her know that he was doing it.

  But in his defense—“I could hardly let you be shot out of a cannon.”

  “And I could hardly let your reputation be ruined.”

  “So here we are for better or worse.”

  “Till death do us part.”

  Thank the Good Lord that she was smiling when she said it because she was also lightly drumming her fingertips on the table.

  A hum of lunchtime activity went on all around while he sipped his coffee and wondered what sort of marriage this would be.

  “I did not believe it!” From the tone of Aimee Peller’s voice, the lady still did not.

  There was nothing for it but to dive in and set the rumors to rest.

  “Miss Peller.” William stood up. He extended his hand in a formal greeting, which the young lady ignored. “I’d like to introduce my wife, Agatha English.”

  “That strumpet in the red underwear?” she hissed quietly. “After the fortune-teller said that we were to be together for the rest of our lives, you went off and married a stranger!”

  * * *

  She never should have ventured out in public!

  There was no reason that Aimee Peller should not believe she was an immoral woman, that she was not fit for the likes of William English.

  A belief that Hilda Brunne had recited time and time again.

  “Won’t you sit with us, Aimee? Have a cup of tea?” William asked in a congenial voice as though the woman had not just insulted her.

  How she wished he had not invited Miss Peller to sit! She never wanted to lift her gaze from her lap again but—

  Fabric shifted as the jilted woman took a chair beside William.

  “Agatha.” William’s voice sounded warm...loving even when he said her name. “Won’t you meet my constituent, Miss Peller?”

  Agatha glanced at her husband. She understood what he had just done. Given her the chance to stand on her own. To act the woman she claimed she wanted to be.

  Indeed, he could have sent his constituent off with a tongue-lashing for her rudeness, but instead he had left it for Agatha.

  She shifted her gaze to the woman and added a smile. Hopefully the gesture did not look as timid as it felt.

  “How lovely to meet you, Miss Peller.”

  Judging by the slash of her brows, the scorned one did not feel the same.

  “Actually, Mr. English and I are not strangers. We have been acquainted for some time.” She took a good long breath. “And while it may have appeared last night that I was a strumpet, indeed I am not.”

  “Why the hasty marriage then?” Aimee pointed the question at William.

  He answered by reaching across the table, running his thumb along the ridges of Agatha’s knuckles. A twinkle danced in the corner of his eye. “What man would not be in a hurry to wed this beautiful lady?”

  Why, he made her feel like she was the only woman on earth worth looking at. He might be saying that only for Aimee’s sake, but still, her heart skittered about in her chest.

  All of a sudden there was a loud tapping on the window glass.

  They all turned to see Laura Lee with Johnny Ruiz peering over her shoulder.

  Her friend looked like she had bees in her corset. She mouthed something then flailed her hands in exasperation.

  A second later she was steaming her way through the dining room, Johnny looking like a dinghy bobbing in her wake.

  “I turn my back for one night! A few hours only, and you get married?”

  “Would you like to sit?” William asked, indicating the free chair, and briefly introducing Miss Peller.

  Her friend plunked down, leaving Johnny to stand behind her looking nervous.

  “So, Mr. Mayor.” Normally, Laura Lee had a sweet voice, but it wasn’t evident at the moment. “What game are you up to? Is it the Lucky Clover you still want? You’ll do anything to have it, I’ve got to wonder!”

  “The Lucky Clover Ranch?” Aimee’s eyebrows shot to fine points in her forehead. “She has to do with the Lucky Clover!” Aimee stood up looking quite offended. “Now I understand why you tossed me away—all for greed.”

  Laura Lee shot up so suddenly that she knocked Johnny Ruiz back three steps. Her friend was loyal to a fault.

  “That isn’t true! What a wicked thing to say!” With her anger refocused, Laura Lee stared in outrage at Aimee. She looked like she was about to utter a curse word. Agatha had never heard Laura Lee spew anything unkind before.

  William spoke before Agatha had a chance to know if she would really do it.

  “I did not toss you away, Miss Peller. You were never mine to toss. As for coveting the Lucky Clover? No, I do not. I married Agatha because I chose to marry her.” William turned his attention from Miss Peller, settled it on Agatha. His fond expression made her feel that they were alone, his message meant for no one else. “I’m grateful that she accepted my proposal.”

  “We all saw how you were forced—”

  “Miss Peller.” Agatha cut her off. “I believe you have influence in the community. Please let everyone know they need not worry about us. I chose to marry Mr. English as well.”

  Luckily, the woman had the good sense to understand that she had been dismissed from company. She presented her back and was gone in a quick flick of her fashionable skirt.

  Agatha tried not to sigh her relief too loudly, but it had taken all she had to put up that false bravado.

  “I can’t imagine what I’m going to tell your sister.” Laura’s Lee’s frown shifted from Miss Peller’s retreat to Agatha. “I was supposed to watch out for you.”

  “You can tell her that my reasons for marrying William are my own and I am content with what I have done.”

  “Tell Ivy and Travis that I’m satisfied as well a
nd that I will watch over Agatha.” His gaze slid her way. “In as much as she will allow it.”

  “At least someone is satisfied.” Laura Lee’s sigh was short but resigned as she sat slowly back down.

  “The ones whose opinions count are.” Agatha smiled, trying to put her friend’s worry to rest because her fears were not unjustified. The marriage had been sudden. Even Agatha had fought it initially.

  “Say, Laura Lee,” Johnny declared. “You and me are getting hitched soon as we get home. Can’t see how that’s much different.”

  “You and I have been in love for six months.”

  Agatha watched her new husband in profile while Johnny grinned at Laura Lee.

  She had been in love with William for far longer.

  * * *

  An hour later William took Agatha shopping. Tanners Ridge would have some of what she needed premade, but for the elegant gatherings she would be hostess of, the gowns would have to be sewn custom.

  Apparently, Aimee had done her job, spreading the word, or gossiping more likely, that he was now a married man.

  Folks on the street stopped to chat and wish them well. As far as he could see, the only people who weren’t pleased were Aimee and her parents.

  Evidently the whole family had set their cap for him—or rather, his position and his money.

  “Really, William!” Agatha hoisted the pair of hatboxes she carried. “I can send home for my things.”

  He intended to do that, but she would need more than he suspected she had. Money at the Lucky Clover had been tight for a time.

  “Indulge me, honey. I want to buy you things.”

  “I don’t mind it, truth be told.” She shot him a wink. The gesture nearly brought him to his knees. He was not used to this side of Agatha, hadn’t known it existed. “So long as you don’t treat me like your dress-up doll.”

  Agatha wouldn’t know it, but her comment brought him up short. Because he had been thinking just that way. What she should wear to this event or that social gathering.

  She had been so sheltered all her life—no, not sheltered but secluded—that he hadn’t given her credit for knowing about current fashion.