A British Bride by Agreement (27 page)

Her heart sung along with the ping of
the elevator’s door opening. As soon as she arrived on Jonathan’s floor, she
swiped a security card Nick had dropped off at her house to enter the executive
suites.

Then she’d tell Jonathan the whole truth
about why she sent her brother that money. And then if he was still speaking to
her, she’d tell him about the bill that was coming from Bammberts and give him
the two hundred and thirty dollars that she still had in her purse from the
sale of her necklaces.

The door opened and she quietly walked
in, keeping the rustle of her bags to a minimum. Once in the inner sanctum, she
stretched her sore calf muscles. Walking up and down the furniture store
yesterday for three hours, then today, directing where everything was to go in
their home had made her muscles ache, but it was worth it. Most of the
furniture she needed was in place and now that she’d lined up a caterer, she
was feeling excited about hosting their first dinner party.

She could hear Jonathan talking. Was he
on the phone? As she turned the corner, she had a straight view into his
office.

Jonathan had his arms around Dede.

Paralyzed, Emma watched as they stared
into each other’s eyes. Her bags wilted to the floor. A gasp clogged in her
throat.

Emma heard the words,
love you.
A smile lit up Jonathan’s
face when Dede set her hands on her hips and turned side to side, as if showing
off her trim figure.

Stifling a strangled cry, Emma pressed
her eyes shut, willing the image of them away.
Now you’ve gone and done it, Duckie
. You’ve fallen in love with a
man who had no intention of ever falling in love with you.

***

After Dede shared her good news about
being pregnant and left, Jonathan shut down his computer. The moon cast its
beam through his blinds and illuminated the scripture that hung on his wall.

Promotion
and power come from nowhere on earth, but only from God.

He
hesitated for just a moment, before giving in to the tug on his soul to
pray. He slipped to his knees and leaned into his chair.

“Lord, I give
You
my career.
All of it.
I want to dedicate my life to
You
. To be used by
You
. Not just my
heart, but my days and hours and weeks as well. Whatever
You
have planned for me is what I want. I’m done doing this on my own terms. I want
to change my priorities.
You first, then Emma, then work.
I don’t know how to fix this concert, but
You
do. I
don’t know how to tell Emma how much I…” He paused.

He loved her.

He loved her more than he had loved any
other woman.

“I want to tell her I love her.”
Satisfied, he stood. The concert was in one week. If he failed or succeeded, it
was now up to God.
And Emma?
Despite his fears, God
would have to help him stand firmly beside her no matter what she might have
done.

Once in the front door of his darkened
home, Jonathan yawned and went to set his keys on the box and found an antique
dresser instead. He tossed his keys in the leather container sitting in the
middle and hung his jacket on the row of brass hooks.
Very
nice.
The further he walked in, the more he was impressed. But by the
modern fabric and contemporary design in each room, it was clear this wasn’t
Franz’ work. Emma was a brilliant decorator. Was there anything she wasn’t good
at?

Every space had at least a few
furnishings in it, each with its own color design. He paused outside the master
bedroom. Would she have furnished this room for the both of them? He slowly
opened the door. Although not completely decorated, the room held a dresser,
bureau, two over-sized chairs, and two nightstands with lamps.

At the commanding sight of an unmade
oversized four-poster bed, his heart sped up.

After looking through the rest of the
rooms, he returned to his office. It was the one space that looked completely
done. Framed pictures of his family cluttered the large mahogany desk. Empty
bookcases lined one wall and on the other were framed sports jerseys of the St.
Louis Blues hockey team, and the Cardinals.
Amazing.
But where was her piano room?
 

He found her piano tucked in the corner
of a guest bedroom next to his office and all her music books in a closet down
the hall. Emma had a knack for putting others first.
Sweet
Emma.
He wanted to tell her he loved her.
Time to be a
man and open up to her.

Glancing around the guestroom, an idea
came to him. He picked up a box of music books, took it to the empty bookcase
in his office, and set it down. He rolled up his sleeves. He would show her how
much he loved her. This was going to be a long night.

Two hours later, he had all her books,
her notebooks of sheet music, her CD player and all her CDs on the bookshelf.
He’d have to wait until after the party to move the piano in and his desk out,
but then it would be the perfect spot for teaching children.

There was one last box, left sitting
open on the closet floor. When he took it out, a first class advance purchase
ticket to London and a letter fell out. The note was from her parents, who
urged her to come home and scolded her for marrying him. The exact words were,
poor excuse for a husband
.

His heart hammered. He ran a hand over
his face, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

She was leaving him.

 
***

The next night, Emma wandered between the
dinner guests in her home with a smile pasted on her face. By the sound of the
laughter and chatting, everyone was enjoying themselves. Even the piano player
hired for the event made her Steinway sound lovely. But her shoulders were
tense with the horrid questions that kept circling her mind. She had purchased
a pregnancy test, but hadn’t taken it yet. But she was pretty sure, based on
how she’d felt over the last few days what the answer would be.

“Emma, darling.”
Babsy kissed
her on the cheeks. “I cannot believe what you’ve done to the place.
So unusual for Franz.”

Emma’s mind raced with polite replies.
“He, well, worked very hard. And we talked a lot about what to get...” What was
the point? Two days ago, her father had left another message on her cell phone
warning her he’d go to the St. Louis press if she didn’t get money to them in
the next week. As soon as the Steller family found out, they would probably
disown her. “No, I didn’t end up using Franz’s ideas. I didn’t like the
Bavarian flair of his design, so I decided to do something more contemporary on
my own.”

Babsy paused. “You are—I am so tired of
all those coo-coo clocks and ski poles on my walls. If only I had the courage
to tell him to redo it.”

Emma smiled weakly at her mother-in
law’s kind words. All that would surely end when Babsy found out what kind of
family she’d come from.

Just then, Jonathan walked in, wearing a
navy blue suit and his yellow tie. She’d managed to avoid him ever since she’d
seen him with Dede. It wasn’t hard. She stayed busy organizing the dinner and
he was busy with work and all the concert details. Although, now, their master
bedroom was furnished, would he want to give up their separate rooms? She could
hardly look him in the eye. Would he tell her about Dede? Or was this part of
their arrangement? He could keep a girlfriend on the side?

He strode up to her, leaned in, and
brushed a kiss against her cheek. For one moment, she allowed herself to savor
the roughness of his warm skin. Emotion tightened her throat. His blue eyes
looked full of tenderness. He looked like a man in love.

With someone
else.

Knife-like pain pierced through her. She
mumbled an excuse, fled from the formal living room into her sitting room, and
shut the door. How was she going to keep up this façade when her world was
crumbling around her? Maybe she should take a trip until she could sort out her
thoughts. Just say she needed to get away for a while. She could go see Ben and
Debbie. Then, maybe, with her friend’s support, she could work up the nerve to
take the pregnancy test and figure out what she was going to do. She bit on her
knuckle to keep the tears at bay.

A tentative knock at her door startled
her.
Probably the catering staff with a question.
“Yes.”

Jonathan opened the door, looking a little
tired but still handsome and shut it behind him. “That was a quick exit. I
didn’t even have time to tell you how beautiful you look.”

Before Emma could respond, another knock
followed. Nick stuck his head in. “Sorry to disturb you two, but no, Jonathan,
the orchestra from Tulsa is not available. I practically begged them to come,
but they said no.”

“Thanks for trying.” Jonathan sighed.

“I’ll see if I can think of anyone
else,” Nick started to close the door, but hesitated. “I don’t want you to fail
in front of your father.”

Jonathan studied him for a moment.
“Thank you, Nick.”

“When you called Dede again, did she
have any suggestions? I know she’s been a great help to you in the past.” Nick
stared wide-eyed.

Jonathan shot a glance at Emma. “No.”

“Hmm.
She’s normally
so willing to drop everything to help you. Okay, I’ll see you later.” Nick shut
the door

Jonathan strode over and held Emma at
the waist.

His warm hands felt like firebrands. She
never knew you could ache for someone’s touch at yet detest it at the same
time.

“Are you all right?” His voice sounded
heavy with worry.

Her gaze shot to the ground. Of course,
she wasn’t all right. She burned to tell him how much she loved him, that there
might be a son or daughter on the way, but what good would it do now? “Are you
still looking for an orchestra?”

He stuck his hands in his pockets,
looking for the first time, vulnerable. “Yes.”

Despite his betrayal, her heart still
yearned for him. “It will work out.”

“I’ve found a caterer, but no music
yet.” His gaze searched her face as if he wanted to ask her something.

“It will all sort itself out.”

He stepped in even closer. She could
feel his warm breath in her hair. “You look so gorgeous. But before dinner I
wanted to—I need to ask you…”
“Never mind.
But I meant
what I said. You look amazing.”

Confused, she stepped back. His
compliment hurt. She wanted so badly to be beautiful for him, but obviously she
couldn’t compete with Dede. “Um, looks like everyone showed up.”

“Have you seen my home office?”

She frowned. “You don’t like it?”

A smile tugged on his lips. “I need to
show you something.” He took her hand.

She pulled away, no longer willing to
play at this charade. She would stay with him, be his wife, give him children,
but she wouldn’t give him her heart. “I should get back to our guests.”

He followed her to the living room.
“Em.
Talk to me.”

For a moment, she pictured herself
throwing herself in his arms and telling him everything, but the image of him
hugging Dede alone in his darkened office was still too vivid. She pasted on a
wide smile.
“Just trying to be the perfect wife.”

She stepped out of the room and into the
gathering of chatting guests and was accosted by two gentlemen who wanted to
know who her decorator was. As she was attempting to come up with an
explanation that made sense, Jonathan banged on a Chinese gong setting on an
end table.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentleman, but I
wanted to say thank you for coming to our home for dinner tonight. It is an
honor to have so many of our longtime friends here, and I look forward to
seeing you at the concert tomorrow night. But before we eat dinner, I want to
raise our glasses and make a toast to someone here who is very special to me.”

Emma searched the crowd of expectant
faces. Was Dede here?

“This person has done a great deal of
work to get this evening and this home pulled together.
To my
beautiful wife, Emma Steller.”

Heat flushed Emma’s cheeks as everyone
cheered. Jonathan sure was putting on an adoring husband performance. Is that
what famous, wealthy people’s marriages were like?
Both of
them playing the roles of adoring spouses, but living separate lives?
She took a sip of her diet soda, but it was hard to swallow past the lump in
her throat.

Jonathan strode toward her.

She gripped her drink tighter. He had a
very determined look on his face.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled
her to him and pressed his lips to hers. Shock
tingled
her scalp. It took her a few moments to respond, but her own lips betrayed her
and lingered against his. She allowed herself to savor one last embrace, one
last time to be in his arms, to have his attention all to
herself
.
From now on, his affections and attentions would only be for show. He would
never return her love, and that made being a wife by agreement harder than she
ever imagined.