The Lady's Hand

by Bobbi Smith

  It was an explosive embrace. Brandy had known that what had been happening between them when they'd arrived had been unfinished, and she was glad now that they would not be interrupted for some time. She linked her arms around his neck to draw him closer as she savored the ecstasy of his lips on hers.

  Rafe drew her across his lap, cradling her against his chest. The feel of her breasts crushed against him, the seductive scent of her perfume and the hunger of her mouth against his sent a shudder through him. Desire pounded hot and heavy through his body as his hand sought the soft swell of her breast.

  Brandy gasped at the intimacy of his touch. There had been several times in the past when a man had cornered her and tried to touch her this way. But her reaction had always been revulsion. She had always managed to escape from their unwanted pawings, but still she'd felt soiled.

  But this.. .This was different. Her body reacted instinctively to Rafe's caress. She arched toward him, unconsciously offering him more.

  At her sensuous move, Rafe groaned and broke off the kiss, his lips moving to explore the sweetness of her throat. He felt her tremble at his touch and then moved lower to trace a fiery path over the tops of her breasts, bared as they were above the bodice of her gown.

  "Rafe..." She whispered his name hoarsely, not knowing whether it was a plea or a verbal caress. His mouth was a heated brand upon her. An aching emptiness began to grow deep within her. She told her self this was crazy. True, he'd been kind and attentive to her tonight, but that was no reason to lose her head. He did not love her, and she did not could not-love him. "Rafe... stop..."

  He froze at her words. His sanity returned coldly, quickly, and he silently cursed his own weakness. He was acting like a randy youth. He'd had trouble concentrating on business all evening because Brandy had been sitting next to him. It seemed that all he'd been able to think about was how beautiful she was. Then, when Geraldine had unwittingly insulted her, he'd felt compelled to defend her, to protect her from the hurt of the woman's unkind words. And now that they were finally alone on their way home, he couldn't keep his hands off her.

  Rafe told himself this was ridiculous. Brandy was a lovely woman, but she was just one of many. He gave her a half-smile as she moved away from him to sit back on the carriage seat.

  "You're right. It's best we behave ourselves. Claire wouldn't approve."

  Brandy was glad for his mention of Claire. It helped her keep her sanity. She gave Rafe a slight smile in return. "I have a feeling she would be lecturing both of us on the proper way for a lady and gentleman to behave."

  "True, but this time next week, we won't have to worry about Claire's lectures anymore."

  "I know." Brandy's smile did not falter, but she felt a definite lag in her confidence. Considering how she reacted to his kiss and his touch, she wasn't sure what was going to become of their union. Had they cared about each other really cared about each other-she would have been thrilled to be his wife. But the future stretched before her in a bleak, heart breaking landscape. Though she found that she was attracted to him, it had to be a purely physical thing. It couldn't be love.

  He helped her down from the carriage when they arrived a short time later at Claire's home and then escorted her to the door.

  "Good night, Brandy."

  "Good night, Rafe," she said, turning back toward him once the door was open.

  But he was already walking away.

  Brandy felt strangely bereft and wondered why it bothered her so much that he hadn't kissed her good night.

  "How did it go?" Claire asked as she came out of the parlor to find Brandy standing in the front doorway staring after Rafe.

  Brandy was glad to find that her friend had waited up for her. She came inside and closed the door behind her. The smile she wore was triumphant.

  "It went well?" Claire pressed, eager to know. She'd been worrying about Brandy all night.

  "It went more than well was fantastic! You would have been so proud of me," Brandy said.

  "I would have been proud of you no matter what, but you made it through unscathed."

  "Yes, I did, although there was a moment there when I almost reverted to my old unladylike self. Rafe was right in hiring you. It could have been a disaster."

  "What happened?"

  They moved into the parlor and sat together on the sofa as Brandy told her all about Geraldine's remarks. Claire looked stricken.

  "Yet you managed not to say anything..."

  "I didn't have to. Both Rafe and her husband spoke up.

  "Oh, your Rafe is such a hero." Claire reached out and patted her hand. "You're one very lucky woman to have him. Of course, this Geraldine had no idea that she was indirectly insulting you. No doubt, she would have been mortified if she'd known how you were taking what she was saying."

  "In keeping with what my tutor has been teaching me, I think Geraldine is basically a good person and she probably means well. But I don't think she's ever in her whole life had to worry about missing a meal or about being her own sole support."

  "You're being kind," Claire said.

  "Isn't that what you've been teaching me to be?"

  "You were always kind. I didn't have to teach you that. But you're right, I am proud of you. Did you say anything to her about it?"

  "I just told her that she should be celebrating the fact that the woman was brave enough and strong enough to try to improve her lot in life."

  "What did she say?"

  "Not much. I think the three of us gave her something to think about."

  "Good." Claire rose, trying to stifle a yawn. "I'm not used to these late hours. I'm going on to bed."

  "You'd better get ready. Once we find you a beau, you're going to be up later than this," Brandy teased.

  "I'm waiting in breathless excitement for that moment, but until then, I'm going to get some sleep. Good night, Brandy. I'm glad you had a good time."

  "Good night."

  When Claire had gone, Brandy stood and wandered to the windows that overlooked the street. It was dark and deserted outside, and she felt very alone. She wondered what she'd gotten herself into, and she wondered, too, if she was going to be able to pull it off.

  "Are you about ready?" Claire asked as she knocked lightly at the door to Brandy's room.

  "I guess," Brandy answered. "Come on in and see what you think."

  Claire opened the door to find Brandy standing in the middle of the room in her wedding dress. The dress looked fantastic, but Brandy looked a bit pale.

  "What's wrong? Are you feeling all right?" The days leading up to the wedding had passed quickly for them, but during all that time Brandy had never mentioned that she wasn't feeling well. Claire was worried that she might be taking ill.

  "I feel fine," she answered. "I'm just nervous. I've never gotten married before, you know."

  Claire laughed. "I know, and I've never been in charge of shepherding a bride to the chapel before either, so that's two of us who are nervous."

  Brandy managed a smile. "You've been a good friend to me over the past week. I can't thank you enough."

  "You don't need to thank me. I just want you to marry the man of your dreams and live happily ever after."

  "That's all I want, too," Brandy said, her double meaning lost on Claire. She drew a ragged breath. "So, do I look good enough to become Mrs. Rafe Marchand?"

  Claire stepped back and studied her from every angle. The white satin gown she wore was simple, yet fashionable. It was full-skirted and trimmed in lace. Her slippers matched the gown. Her hair was styled up and held in place by pearl-studded combs. The bodice of the gown was demurely cut. At her throat and ears, she wore pearls that emphasized the beauty of her skin. The veil that she had yet to don was fastened to a crown of pearls.

  "I have never seen a more beautiful bride," Claire said in all honesty. "He'll be so proud when he sees you. You're lovely."

  "Thanks. How soon do we have to leave?"

  "All I have to do is slip into
my gown and I'll be ready. I gave instructions for the carriage to be here at six-fifteen. That should give us plenty of time to get to the church."

  Brandy glanced at the clock to see that it was only 5:45. "Let me know when you're dressed. I want to see how you look, too."

  "Don't worry. I expect a full critique from you. Tonight is the first night we're trying out the new me. It will be interesting to see how everyone reacts," Claire said. She sounded light-hearted about the evening to come, but she was really excited. She couldn't wait for Marc to see her. She hadn't spoken with him since the day she'd agreed to take on the job, and she wondered what he was going to think about the "new" Claire.

  Getting a grip on her runaway hopes, Claire told herself not to think about Marc, that she was doing this for herself, not him. But she knew his opinion would mean the world to her. She had loved him from afar all this time, and now, at last, she knew how to fight for him. She wasn't admitting that this was her last chance in life to find happiness, but it would be her one and only big chance to try to attract the man of her dreams, and she fully intended to do her best. She wasn't the shy, insecure Claire any more. She was Claire, the old-maid schoolteacher who had learned how to play a mean hand of poker.

  Ten minutes later, Brandy made her way to Claire's bedroom to find her friend looking like a different woman.

  "I cannot believe this," Brandy said with real awe as she stared at her. "It's hard to imagine that you're the same teacher I met just a few days ago."

  "That's good?"

  "That's better than good. Look at you! That gown is absolutely gorgeous!" Brandy circled her, smiling widely at the changes they'd wrought.

  The emerald gown was demure in style, highnecked and long-sleeved, and enhanced all of Claire's good points. Her eyes shone with an inner radiance. Her skin was flawless. A light blush stained her cheeks, and she wore just the slightest touch of color on her lips. She'd obviously remembered every trick Brandy had taught her about using makeup.

  Claire took one last look at herself in her fulllength mirror and had to admit that Brandy's encouragement had wrought big changes. "It's all because of you, Brandy. I would never have had the nerve to do this on my own."

  "I'm just glad we did do it." Brandy gave her an impulsive hug.

  "Shall we go get you married, young lady? And I do not use the term `lady' loosely."

  For a moment, Claire saw a slightly haunted look in Brandy's eyes, but it was quickly masked.

  "Yes. Let's go. It wouldn't do for us to be late. Not today. I have to get a few things from my room and then I'll meet you downstairs."

  "I'll be waiting."

  Brandy went back to her own room and closed the door for a moment. She stood there looking around the comfortable bedroom that had been her safe haven. This was the last time she would be here. Claire had made arrangements for her things to be delivered to the hotel while they were at the wedding. After the ceremony, she would go there with Rafe, and the following day, they would leave for Natchez.

  Brandy swallowed tightly. There was no longer any pretending that this wasn't happening. There was no denying her fate was sealed. In a little over an hour, she would be married... married to a man she'd known only a few weeks.

  She realized then that she was trembling; she had never been this afraid before. It enraged her that she was afraid now. She stared around, looking for the one thing she needed, the one thing that might help calm her. And she saw them, already tucked into her valise.

  Grabbing her deck of cards, she stuffed them into her small drawstring purse. She didn't know why having them with her made her feel better, but they did. She took one last glance around, then picked up her veil and quit the room. Brandy made her way downstairs to where Claire awaited her.

  A short time later, they arrived at the church. Father Finn was there to welcome them, but there was no sign of Rafe or Marc and the children yet. He showed them into the chapel and they prepared for the ceremony. Claire and Marc were to be the witnesses and the children the only other guests.

  When Brandy was left alone with her thoughts, she took the opportunity to wander out of the chapel and into the semi-darkness of the church itself. It was serene and completely peaceful, unlike the turmoil that was filling Brandy as she faced her uncertain future.

  Slipping into a pew midway up one aisle, she tried to gather her thoughts, but as much as she tried to feel brave, she only felt lost and alone. Claire was her friend, but she was being paid by Rafe to be her teacher. She was totally alone tonight, and she longed for the comfort of her mother's understanding nearness, or, at least, Ben's gruff affection. But she had no one to turn to. No one who really cared about her.

  Tears burned in her eyes as she gazed up at the altar. She wondered what had brought her to this, the lowest moment of her life. She had always imagined her wedding would be a beautiful, loving affair with friends and family. But it was going to be nothing more than a cold sealing of a business arrangement---an arrangement that only she and her soon-to-be husband knew about.

  Brandy drew a ragged breath and knew there was nothing she could do. She had agreed to his terms, but only because she'd had no choice. She had to go through with it.

  Lifting her eyes heavenward, she began to pray silently. She hoped that God was listening and that he would hear her plea for help and send an army of angels to rescue her. But somehow she knew that no warrior angel was going to show up just in the nick of time with the money she owed Rafe. No, as much as she longed to be rescued, if there was any rescuing to be done, she was going to have to save herself. Brandy swore then and there that no matter what happened over the coming months, if she did conceive and bear Rafe a child, there was no way she would ever leave her baby. Somehow, some way, she would find a way out before that time came. There was no other way she could go through with the wedding and live with herself.

  A touch on her shoulder startled her, and she looked up to find Father Finn standing beside her.

  "It's time. Rafe and Marc are here," he said softly, frowning slightly in concern as he saw her expression. "Brandy... Are you sure about this?"

  Brandy quickly forced a smile. "Oh, yes, Father. Everything's fine. I was just missing my mother and wishing she was here with me."

  "Oh, all right," he said, relieved. He'd had his misgivings about this union, and he wanted to make sure it was the right thing for them to do. "We'll begin as soon as you're ready then."

  She nodded, girding herself for the future she was about to face. There would be no turning back. "Thank you, Father." She rose and stepped from the pew, walking with him back to the chapel.

  Rafe had taken extra care with his appearance, even buying a new suit for the occasion. Marc had picked him up in his carriage, and they'd made the trip to the church together. Merrie's endless chatter on the ride there had made the time pass swiftly, and Rafe had answered all her questions with goodnatured ease.

  "You seem very calm tonight for a man who never wanted to get married," Marc had remarked as they'd neared the church. Rafe had always fought the idea of wedded life, and Marc was surprised that his friend wasn't showing any last-minute doubts about his decision. "Are you that sure Brandy is the woman for you?"

  Rafe had looked at his friend. "I'm that sure. You were right that first night when you said she'd make the perfect bride for me."

  Marc had given a disbelieving shake of his head. "I'm glad you're doing this, and I hope you're very happy. You both deserve happiness."

  "Thanks," Rafe had said, feeling like a cad listening to his friend. If Marc had known the truth behind his proposal to Brandy, he might not be so pleased with the coming ceremony. But then, it was none of Marc's business. Rafe would worry about telling him everything later. Much later.

  They'd entered the church to find Father Finn in the chapel, deep in conversation with a woman they hadn't recognized.

  "Father...?" Rafe had said.

  When Father Finn and the woman looked up, both Rafe and M
arc had been startled to find it was Claire he'd been speaking to.

  "Claire?" Marc had blinked in amazement. Her glasses were gone. Her hair was brushed out about her shoulders in a thick mass of curls. Her dress fitted her enticingly, hinting at but not revealing the very womanly curves beneath it. She looked mature, sophisticated and elegant, and he had only been able to stare at her as he'd tried to reconcile what he was seeing with the Claire he knew.

  "Good evening, Marc," she'd said sweetly, smiling at him, her focus only on him. He looked handsome. So handsome, in fact, that he took her breath away, and she remembered all too clearly that night so many years ago when she'd lost her heart to him. It pained her a little now to know that those feelings were still alive deep inside her.

  "You look... lovely," he'd managed with a smile.

  "Thank you." Her gaze had been riveted on him. She was seeing only him. All else was a blur-in more ways than one.

  "Yes, you do look beautiful, Claire," Rafe had complimented her. Then he'd looked around for Brandy. When he'd seen no sign of her, he'd known the strangest moment of panic. He feared she'd flown... That she'd decided to renege on their deal and not marry him... That she'd gone...

  "Where's Brandy?" Marc had asked the question that was burning in Rafe's mind.

  "She went out into the church," Father Finn explained. "I'll go get her now that we're all here." He disappeared into the cavernous church to bring her back.

  "Papa, who is that lady?" Merrie asked.

  "Merrie, Jason... This is Claire. She was a friend of your mother's. Claire, this is my daughter, Merrie, and my son, Jason."

  "Hello," Claire said softly as she looked down at the two children standing beside Marc. As her gaze met the little girl's, she caught her breath. Merrie was the image of Jennette, and a shaft of pain went through Claire's heart. She hadn't realized until that moment just how much she'd missed her friend- her laughter, her love of life, her good nature. "Merrie...You look so much like your mother. You're absolutely beautiful. And Jason.. .You look just like your handsome father."