Alice_Bride of Rhode Island

by Kristy McCaffrey

  “That sounds delightful,” she murmured.

  His eyes came to hers, but they held no warmth or understanding.

  “I’ll meet you downstairs,” she said and left the room, deciding that he could fend for himself.

  Alice entered the parlor and sat down, seeking to calm her nerves. To distract herself, she pulled a letter that had arrived earlier from her apron pocket. It was from Judith.

  My Dearest Alice,

  I received your letter and am so happy to hear you are well. I am writing you to let you know I arrived at my destination in Wyoming. You can't imagine how things have gone for me. Hopefully when I write you next, I can give you more news.

  For now I can only tell you that upon arriving, I found my intended had passed away. Thankfully, I found a position as caregiver for a beautiful baby girl.

  It could be that I may have to marry the father, since I live at the house and he is single.

  Sean Montgomery is a good man. He is responsible and very respectful. However, it is not right for me to continue to live in his house without being married. His sister is pushing us to wed, and to be honest, I am not opposed, as I find him very handsome.

  Once I have more news, I will write you. Know that you are always in my thoughts.

  With Love,

  Judith Murphy

  Alice thought of Judith’s predicament, not unlike her own. Alice hadn’t married her intended, and now neither would her friend. She said a silent prayer that Judith’s situation would prove far better than hers.

  * * * *

  James watched Alice leave, her lemon scent clinging to him. He’d never envisioned marriage was such a difficult endeavor. When she’d wrapped her arms around him, all he could think of was folding her against him with nothing between them. For a brief, insane moment he couldn’t remember why he was staying away from his bride.

  Damn.

  He hadn’t missed the anxiety that pinched her features at the mention of a trip to Newport. He hoped she would understand when he took her to Daniel Endicott’s house that he’d protect her.

  Daniel Endicott would never hurt a Martel again. And, at least for now, Alice was a Martel.

  Chapter Ten

  The trip to Newport, while not far, still took the better part of the day. The train, along with carriage rides from the Martel home and to the hotel, left Alice weary by the time she and James arrived at the Ocean House on Touro Street in the early evening.

  Because her stepfather maintained a mansion in town, she’d never been to this establishment. Her eyes widened as the buggy stopped at the entrance and James escorted her to the sidewalk.

  “This is a lovely hotel, James. Gothic Revival, I believe.”

  “You’ve stayed here before?” He presented his arm, and she tucked her gloved hand into it.

  “No. But architecture was offered as a course of study at the boarding school I attended. I found it fascinating.”

  They took the steps to enter the grandiose structure, James walking with only a slight limp. “I had no idea you were so well-educated.”

  “My stepfather meant to merely send me away, but he inadvertently opened my eyes to the world beyond.” Feeling peevish from fatigue, Alice held back adding: And if you bothered to speak with me on occasion, dear husband, you might come to know me better.

  Although she and James had been forced into close proximity due to his injury, there hadn’t been as big a change in their relationship as she’d hoped. Once he’d started moving about, he’d returned to the servant’s quarters, and she was once again alone in the upstairs bedroom. Still, there’d been limited but pleasant conversation because he’d been forced to take more meals with her.

  He’d said this was a honeymoon—of sorts—but based on his behavior, Alice had her doubts. Added to that aggravation was also a growing trepidation. As the date of their trip had neared, she’d begun to dread returning to Newport.

  But to her great surprise, now that she was here, a tendril of joy wrapped around her. It was her home, after all. Daniel Endicott couldn’t take those memories from her. She’d had many happy times with her mother and father. Perhaps she’d be able to reconnect with a few friends. And what about her grandmother? It had been years since she’d had contact with her father’s mother, but she should investigate whether Edith Harrington still lived. Now that she was married, family was important.

  They entered the lobby, and she removed her gloves while James went to procure the rooms, for surely she would have her own accommodations. Her husband didn’t share her bed in their own home, why would he here?

  She untied the ribbon at her chin and carefully lifted the promenade bonnet from her head as she took in the elegant fashions of several ladies that passed by. Its straw construction was too simple for the surroundings. But Alice had always preferred simplicity in the designs she wore. Her mother had always tried to dress her in more frippery than she could stomach, and they’d clashed many times over it.

  A sudden rush of sadness filled her.

  What I wouldn’t give to see Mama again.

  To distract herself, she took in the finery of the hotel, from the rich Brussels carpeting to the rosewood chairs covered in a heavy satin brocade. Expensive-looking lace curtains descended from the ceiling and window cornices. A large Christmas tree stood vigil in one corner, adorned with glass ornaments and balls in bright colors, tin cutouts in various shapes, and wax angels with spun-glass wings.

  Christmastime was a mixed blessing since her birthday fell on Christmas Eve. When she was young, it had always been a joyful time, but after her papa had died and her mama remarried Daniel Endicott, there hadn’t been much merriment to be found.

  For a moment Alice envisioned an idyllic scene before a roaring fire at the Martel home, James beside her, and children...

  She wondered what gift she could possibly get for her new husband.

  Perhaps I should break his other leg so he can’t escape me.

  She chided herself for the uncharitable thought while allowing a slight smile of amusement to reach her lips. Maybe having a child wasn’t such an outrageous idea. The only problem was that in order to become pregnant, a wife needed her husband to engage in marital relations. That much she knew, if not the specific details.

  A glance at James as he approached from across the lobby made her breath catch. His brooding expression and strong, sculpted face coupled with his tall muscular frame drew her near like a kitten she’d once had who’d always wanted to burrow under the covers. Alice was more than willing to bury herself in the warm embrace of her husband, if only he’d let her.

  “Shall we?” James took her by the elbow and led her to a staircase.

  Pride stiffened her spine. “Just tell me my room number. I can find my own way.”

  “It wouldn’t be proper for a married couple to stay in separate rooms.” His hand still gently grasped her arm.

  While a frisson of excitement stirred in her abdomen, she knew better than to read anything further into his statement. “You like playing this game, don’t you?”

  They stopped before Room 205. “What game would that be?”

  “This farce that you call our marriage.” So much for winning him over with sweet nothings and her womanly attributes, not that she had any illusions that such techniques would work with James.

  A muscle in his jaw twitched as he unlocked the door, and she sensed a brewing anger in him.

  “I’m sorry you’re not happy with our arrangement, Alice.” He opened the door and bade her enter before him. “But, unfortunately, we will be sharing this room.”

  Baffled as to why she’d picked a fight with him, Alice stepped across the threshold and once again she stopped to stare. Her temper softened as she took in the opulence of the room. A private parlor contained a settee and two chairs around a glossy table and a modest desk in the corner. Beyond, a spacious bedroom beckoned.

  “It’s beautiful, James.”

  “I’m glad you like
it. The bellboy will have our things brought up shortly. Why don’t you rest and freshen up. I’ll return in an hour and escort you to supper.”

  She nodded, awkwardness overtaking her. Would she and James be sharing the only bed? So much for her willingness to conceive his child. She was too uncomfortable to even look him in the eye now.

  He placed his hat on his head, left several bills on the short table near the entrance for her to tip the bellboy, and departed.

  Her shoulders sagged, and she sat upon an upholstered chair. She was on her honeymoon in one of the most beautiful hotels in Newport. By all accounts, this should be a happy time for her. But marriage was turning out to be nothing like she’d imagined.

  * * * *

  James sat across from Alice at an intimate table in the hotel restaurant. Despite the faint shadows beneath her eyes, she was radiant in one of the new gowns Mrs. Irwin had helped her acquire. A modest neckline nevertheless enhanced her bosom, the emerald fabric highlighting the creamy hue of her skin. Her hair was pinned in a simple array, but James had never seen her more beautiful.

  “Are you happy to be back in Newport?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course. I have many fond memories of growing up here.”

  “If there’s anyone you’d like to visit while we’re here, I’d be happy to arrange it for you.”

  “Thank you.” She took a sip of the wine he’d ordered.

  The waiter soon brought a meal of stuffed duck with apples and apricots, golden potatoes, and crispy biscuits. James’ mouth watered, his appetite in full force after a long day of enduring his wife’s company.

  It was a double-edged sword—while he enjoyed, and at times craved, her attention, the practicality of putting distance between them pressed on him. He had no idea how he would tolerate sharing a hotel room with her; while it had seemed simple in execution, the reality was filled with more temptation than James cared for. But to have separate accommodations would’ve created too much talk. And too much risk. If Daniel Endicott did find them, James wanted Alice close.

  “How is your food?” he asked.

  “It’s delicious.” Her blue eyes briefly mesmerized him.

  A sharp longing to know her—really know her—shot through him. “Tell me about your childhood.”

  She dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “I was born in Newport. My mother was much younger than my father, but they only ever had one child. Papa was away a lot, since he could never be gone from the sea for long. We lived in a small cottage out of town until we were able to move. I grew up not far from here, over on Thames Street.”

  “Maybe you can show me one afternoon.”

  She sampled her meal, pausing to swallow before replying. “If you like.”

  “Did you ever go out on a ship with your father?”

  Alice smiled. “Of a sort. Quite often he would take me aboard and let me scamper about while the vessel was still docked at the harbor.”

  He grinned. “A ship rat.” Having finished his meal and with the wine loosening the tension of the day, he sat back and enjoyed the image of a curious, blonde imp exploring a rig.

  “I suppose. I always thought that I’d sail around the world with Papa someday.”

  “I’ll take you, Alice.” The words were out before he could stop them.

  “That sounds like a lofty promise, James, but I do appreciate the offer.”

  He supposed he had no one to blame for the empty echo in her voice but himself. The vast distance between them was his own doing, but necessary, he reminded himself.

  “Alice Endicott?” A man’s voice interrupted the intimacy of their meal.

  Dressed in a fancy chestnut suit, a clean-shaven man with slicked-back brown hair stopped at their table. He put James in mind of a stuffy, arrogant horse.

  Alice’s face blanched and her upper-body stiffened.

  “I thought I recognized you,” the man continued. “I had no idea you were in town.”

  “I just arrived today.” Her tight voice put James on alert.

  “Does Daniel know you’re here?”

  “I don’t believe we’ve met,” James cut in. He stood and held a hand out. “James Martel.”

  “William Evans.” Alice’s jilted intended. James took an instant dislike to the man.

  “Have you brought our dear Alice back to us?” William asked.

  “I guess you could say that. I’m Alice’s husband.”

  The surprise on William’s face pleased James, since he didn’t like the proprietary way the man gazed at Alice. It would do well for him—and any man connected to Daniel Endicott—to understand that Alice was under his protection now.

  William recovered and turned to Alice, who remained sitting. “This is a bit of a shock. When did the happy occasion occur?” His voice held no gaiety or congratulations.

  She smoothed her napkin upon her lap. “About a month ago.”

  “Well, I’m sure Daniel must be quite pleased. I wish you all the best.” With a nod to Alice and a dark gaze upon James, he left them.

  James sat but kept his eye on Evans as he moved across the restaurant and had quiet but insistent words with his companions, then abruptly departed.

  James shifted his attention to Alice, who appeared dejected. “An old friend?”

  “You could say that. He was to be my husband.”

  Alice’s honesty caught James unaware. He’d really thought she would hedge around the subject. A worry began to gnaw in his gut.

  Was Alice secretly happy to have seen William Evans?

  Chapter Eleven

  Alice entered the hotel room with James behind her. Fatigued and still reeling from the alarm of encountering William Evans, she wanted to be alone.

  But there was precious little privacy. How ironic. For weeks, all she’d craved was time alone with her husband, and now that she had her wish, all she desired was distance.

  She tossed her reticule on the table and began to pace. She simply wanted to curl up in her chemise on the bed, pull the covers over her, and pretend the world of Daniel Endicott didn’t exist.

  Earlier, she’d had to request a hotel girl to help her dress, and clearly she would need to do so again unless James would come to her aid, but she wasn’t of a mind to ask.

  How was she supposed to conduct herself with James present? They’d never been intimate.

  Frustrated, tears burned her eyes. She turned away so that James couldn’t see her face and stared out the window, the streets of Newport bustling below.

  “Do you still love him?”

  She spun around. “What?”

  “Is that why you’re so upset?”

  “No. I don’t love him. I never did. I ran away so that I wouldn’t have to marry him.”

  Relief shot across James’ face, and Alice wanted to scream. What did this man want from her?

  “Did he hurt you?”

  She paused, reluctant to delve into her courtship with William Evans.

  James moved to stand before her, placing his hands on her upper arms. “You don’t need to fear him. You’re my wife now. He can’t hurt you.”

  She looked into his eyes, deep pools of sea-green in the lamplight, and wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that she’d finally found a place where she could build a life, and not just any life. She wanted a home, and a husband, and children. She wanted love.

  James brought a hand to her face and leaned forward but stopped when his forehead touched hers. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she brought a hand to his lapel to let him know that she accepted his overture. His thumb gently stroked her cheek, but for one long agonizing moment, he did nothing more.

  You big lout, she wanted to say, just kiss me.

  She angled her face and brought her mouth to his. He didn’t retreat, and, emboldened, she pressed closer. As his lips joined with hers, she closed her eyes and surrendered to the strength and response of James. His scent filled her senses, and excitement stirred in her belly.

 
James broke the kiss. “Alice, this isn’t a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re very young, and you might not choose to stay in this marriage.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I’m giving you the freedom to know your own mind, and you should take it.” He exhaled sharply, and his words had been marked with a tinge of anger.

  He might as well have thrown a glass of cold water into her face.

  “I think I should give you privacy,” he said. “I’ll get a nightcap downstairs. Take your time with your evening routine.” He retrieved his hat. “And you can have the bed to yourself.”

  He opened and shut the door, then was gone.

  Alice remained rooted in the center of the room—stunned, shaken, and confused.

  She could still feel the warmth of his kiss upon her lips. A memory of desire began to unfurl in her belly, spreading to her limbs.

  He does want me.

  She took a steadying breath, buoyed by the thought.

  But why did he keep her at arm’s length? Clearly, he was uncertain about this marriage. But then, why did he wed her in the first place? She’d been prepared to leave when Frank was unwilling to follow through on his commitment. Why hadn’t James let her go? What was to be gained by marrying her?

  James’ words came back to her when she had pressed him about details of his life. Daniel Endicott didn’t honor the deal.

  Did this have something to do with her stepfather?

  Her heart dropped like an anchor hitting the sea floor.

  She sank to the sofa to contemplate the ramifications. She didn’t want to think that James, or Frank for that matter, were duplicitous in their actions. Even if they were that treacherous, which she doubted, they had nothing to gain.

  She possessed very little. Daniel had given her no wealth, no inheritance, and certainly no dowry. When she’d fled more than two years ago, she’d left it all behind.