Following Powchutu’s death and burial, Alisha had been in a state of numbness and depression. Added to that emotional turmoil was her distressing shock at learning all of her money had been irretrievably lost. She had found herself alone, vulnerable, and penniless. But this time was different from the last; there was no Powchutu waiting in the wings to help or to protect her. She was completely alone and on her own. She shuddered in fear and dread.
Alisha caressed the silky folds of the beautiful, ivory dress which she was wearing. She smiled bitterly as she recalled Jeffery informing her that this gown had been the sole reason for her stay of execution. He told her he had confidently ordered the material from downriver the day after her arrival. He grinned haughtily as he spoke of how Mary had secured her proper measurements for him. Filled with certainty, he had hired two seamstresses to secretly design and sew the elegant gown. Jeffery seemed determined to have a grand wedding and bring his blushing bride to Williamsburg.
She had to admit this gown was exquisite and costly. It was neither daring nor modest. It was made from expensive satin and delicate lace. Jeffery had broken a string of small pearls with which to edge the neckline. The town leather-craftsman had made her a matching pair of leather slippers, which were striking and comfortable. The bride’s only piece of jewelry was a single diamond which was suspended on a delicate chain, made from Jeffery’s personal stickpin. She wondered if she should be honored by his unselfish sacrifice. She hastily decided no, since everything would still belong to him after the wedding.
Jeffery had managed to locate only enough lace to trim the gown. Therefore, he had purchased several long strands of white ribbon for her hair. She had secured her long tresses into one heavy braid, then attached it to her scalp in the form of a coronet. The white ribbons had been artistically interwoven in the braid with their remaining lengths left to hang down her nape. All in all, she presented a stunning bride.
As she moved to view her profile in the mirror, Alisha’s eyes caught sight of the seductive peignoir set lying on the bed behind her. Her terrified heart actually skipped a beat. If Jeffery refused to keep his promise concerning a marriage in name only, there was nothing she could do. When presenting it to her earlier, he had grinned devilishly and joked, “Don’t be alarmed, my fetching bride. It’s just for show. Wouldn’t want those ladies to think I forgot such a necessary wedding garment. Besides, from what Mary told me, you are sadly lacking in clothes and accessories. We’ll have to correct that as quickly as possible. I can’t permit the wife of Jeffery Gordon to go around looking the part of a scullery maid. I’ve hired those same two women to help you with a proper wardrobe after we’re married,” he had casually informed her.
Her heart was drumming madly as the time rushed by. Soon, it would be time to go downstairs and to join their guests. It would require a miracle for her to get through this day without going to pieces. At least her orphaned state had overruled the accepted one-year mourning period. No one had given the impression this hasty wedding was improper.
The house was filled with delectable odors from the kitchen. The woman who was responsible for Jeffery’s cleaning and cooking had prepared a fabulous reception to follow the wedding ceremony. It was clear to everyone that Jeffery had spared no expense to have the most notable, breathtaking, and largest wedding and party ever given in St. Louis.
Invitations had been written in fancy script and then hand-delivered to anyone who was anyone in the entire area. Only this morning had she learned that those invitations had been delivered on Sunday afternoon and on Monday morning. How outrageous and presuming, since she had agreed to go through with this fake wedding only on Monday evening!
Alisha’s dazed mind went back to that fateful meeting. She had agreed to have lunch with Jeffery in her room, knowing the reason for his request for lunch and for complete privacy. During lunch they had carried on a somber conversation about the new fashions pictured in the last newspaper which he had received from back East. Later, during dessert, they had switched to the serious topic of the war between their two homelands. Jeffery had sullenly informed her of the British victories in the Long Island and White Plains areas back in August. He had told her of how it had been accomplished by the combined forces of Admiral and General Howe. He had been quick to point out the mounting offenses of the American forces under General Washington who were preparing a decisive confrontation in the New England area. He had arrogantly stated who the natural winner would be: America.
Alisha had politely accepted this information, not daring to question him about his distant observation rather than his patriotic participation. He was content to sit out the entire war in safety and in opulence here in St. Louis. He jokingly implied that he could truthfully claim he was not a traitor to England because he had not fought in the war, should America lose and England win. It was clear he would side with the winner, whoever it was.
After their pleasant—but guarded—lunch, Jeffery had broached the real purpose for their meeting. He accurately and leisurely summed up her present and past predicaments. Then he reiterated his demand for wedlock. She had been stunned to discover how much he knew about her present circumstances. She angrily decided that Jamie O’Hara must have told him everything. He was even aware of her visit to Hiram Bigsley’s office to check on the possibility of his having her money!
He had ended his narration with the words, “As you can see, Alisha, you really have no other option. Surely marriage to me could not be worse than the type of existence you will soon find yourself enduring should you refuse my advantageous proposal. Just a last warning, I won’t accept used goods. If you attempt to survive as some other man’s mistress and do not succeed, don’t come back to me. You have been given ample time to make your choice. I have been most patient and generous; you must agree. Your answer, please…”
Alisha had risen from the table and walked over to the window. She had gazed out for only a short time, but the moment had seemed endless. A tear escaped her eye as she realized the truth: she was trapped. She was at his mercy, if he possessed any. She felt her life-thread tighten and knot, suffocating her with hopelessness.
Many unrelated thoughts and memories flickered across her tormented mind: all gone; all destroyed. Her heart ached with the knowledge of her inevitable concession to her foe. Yet, she saw no other path to take. How could there be any choice between Jeffery or enforced whoredom? How she wished she was a man!
She closed her eyes and mentally ended her connections with the past. She bid farewell to Powchutu who had been her friend and brother. They had shared so much together. She laid her uncle and her parents to final rest, all having died too young and too tragically. She said goodbye to her trusted friend Joe who was still her only hope for the future. She suppressed the painful farewell to her unborn child who rested only God knew where. Last, she bid her most tormenting farewell to her traitorous love: Gray Eagle, without whom none of these agonizing farewells would be necessary. Gray Eagle…
How different this wedding day was from her first one. After dressing in an exquisite albino-skin dress and headband, she had left Black Cloud’s tepee for the joining ceremony. She vividly recalled the looks of awe and envy which had greeted her, the Indian princess. Her eyes had met Gray Eagle’s as he stood in the center of Indian braves. He had exuded such pride and majesty. He had looked magnificent and impressive, but also imposing and haughty. She had been powerless to look away. There had been such a strange look within his jet eyes.
Gray Eagle had looked proud as he gazed upon her beauty. His smoldering gaze had caused shivers to run up and down her spine. His image that day was still as clear as a mountain stream. He had been dressed in rich buckskins with many yellow feathers in his midnight mane to proclaim his rank. Secured around his neck and flowing to the ground had been a colorful feather cape. He had never looked so handsome or so virile.
It had seemed to take forever to cross that short distance between them. Her body had trembled and flamed
with intense longings for him. She had been nearly oblivious to the beginning of that ceremony. His touch had been like fire. She had felt his being with every nerve within her body. She had been lost to all reality except him. He could have seduced her right there and then, and she would have offered no resistance. Within moments they had been wed. No wedding could have been more special…
“Well?” The crisp word had cut into her mourning.
She had slowly turned and looked up into Jeffery’s triumphant face. “Is there any need to answer, Jeffery? As you said, I have no real choice. I can only hope you are the gentleman you claim to be, that you possess the necessary honor and breeding which will prevent a deadly battle between us. For certain, I will not endure a life of constant warfare and degradation. Death is preferable to such a vile existence. If your offer is honorable and truthful, then I accept your terms.” With those words, it had been settled, just as he had known from that first moment at the dock on that chilling Christmas Eve.
A tap on her door called her back to the present. She inhaled several times to still her erratic respiration and to slow her racing heart. She opened the door to face her terrible destiny. Her eyes, which appeared two lifeless emeralds set into the face of an ivory statue, locked with mirthful ones of sky blue. His eyes unavoidably passed over the enchanting, beautiful picture she painted. His pleasure and appreciation were mirrored there. An arrogant smile of satisfaction spread across his handsome face.
He chuckled in open enjoyment and mild surprise. “I didn’t think it possible for you to increase your allure, Alisha. By damn, I was grossly mistaken. I’ve known and seen a great many women, Alisha, but none as beautiful or bewitching as you. It will be heralded that Jeffery Gordon has captured and wed a goddess herself. Just wait until Papa gets a look at you! No doubt you’ll dazzle and charm the old grouch that first moment. Yes sir, this is the best deal I’ve ever made. Rest assured, you’ll be amply rewarded for your cooperation, Mrs. Gordon. A man would be a fool to mar a rare treasure like you,” he noted, thinking aloud.
He entered the room and slowly walked around her. “Beauty in life and in motion,” he finally decided, his eyes possessively engulfing her from head to toe. He reached out to run his hand down her alabaster arm, pleased that her golden tan had faded since his last sight of her at Fort Pierre.
Her satiny skin was cold to his touch. She had instinctively flinched. He chuckled humorously. “Relax, Alisha. This will be a day to remember. This town has never seen a wedding such as ours will be. Enjoy it, so you can give Papa a full and colorful accounting of it.”
“I’m so nervous,” she declared, blaming her tension on the obvious pre-wedding jitters. Feeling compelled to do so, she graciously remarked, “The gown is absolutely exquisite, Jeffery. I cannot recall ever seeing one as beautiful. Thank you. Is Hiram here yet?” she softly inquired, trying to change the subject.
“He arrived just before I came up to check on you. He was an excellent choice to give the bride away. Would you care for a glass of brandy to calm your nerves a bit?”
“I think not. I best remain clear-headed for the service and party,” she replied.
Instead, Jeffery filled the room with hearty, taunting laughter. “Come now, Alisha; you have my word I won’t take unfair advantage of you tonight, or any other night. I will never sleep in that bed unless you ask me. Is that clear?” he firmly stated, pointing to the double bed which took up a great deal of the floor-space in this enchanting room.
She eyed him doubtfully, but nodded yes. “How soon before we begin?” she anxiously inquired, disturbed by the smug and possessive way in which he continued to study her. “If I pass your inspection, do you have to keep staring at me?” she asked in a crisp, shaky voice.
“Surely you can’t blame me,” he sweetly rebuked her in his mellow Southern drawl. “A word to the wise,” he began with a mischievous leer in his remarkably blue eyes. “Since this is our wedding day, we should make an effort to convince everyone present that we’re madly in love. The coldness you’re displaying right now just might raise some suspicions and idle gossip. I hope you agree we don’t want any of that,” he suggested with a lilt to his voice.
Of course he was right. She nodded agreement.
“Excellent! Then shall we go, my love?”
Alisha tensed instantly, then forced herself to relax as much as possible. Jeffery gently took her small, icy hand in his large, warm one. He walked her to the head of the stairs to join Hiram who was just heading up to call them. Hiram beamed at the ravishing girl at the top of the staircase. She smiled faintly at him, unable to conceal her apprehensions. Hiram smiled cheerfully, assuming her state to be due to the recent loss of her brother and to bridal jitters.
Jeffery passed her hand to Hiram. “Take good care of her, Hiram. She’s one in a million,” he remarked, then kissed her upon her slightly pinkened lips.
Her wary gaze met his proud one. Feeling awkward in front of Hiram, she tenderly caressed his cheek and stated sweetly, “I’ll be just fine, Jeffery. Surely all brides are this nervous. I promise not to faint or to fall down the stairs,” she teased.
She alertly noticed the way her genial mood and romantic action eased his worries. He smiled in honest pleasure. He made his way down the steps and entered the living room, glancing around at his various guests who were appropriately attired for this momentous occasion.
Mr. Grimsley, an aspiring politician, had constructed a long and ample living room. In cases of large gatherings, a series of doors leading to a large drawing room were opened, increasing the size of the area. Jeffery quickly let his eyes roam over the people present; no one had refused his invitation.
The rooms were decorated as lovely as possible for this time of year. He made a mental note to give Mrs. Lizzy Webster a bonus for her preparations and artistic decorations. He had previously checked the sumptuous menu which she had prepared with hired help. He also made a note to reward Sara King and Martha Caldwell for their superb wedding creation which so justly suited Alisha Williams; Parisian designers could not have done better.
Alisha… his excited mind sparked with the thought of her. Jeffery hastily dismissed such thoughts to be savored at a better time. He made his way to where his best man Henri Jean Malraux was standing. They exchanged knowing looks, then smiled genially as they clasped hands.
“Think you can carry off your part?” he teased Henri, then winked mysteriously.
“Oui, Monsieur,” he replied in his mellow, deceptive tone. “What could possibly go wrong on such a fabulous day?”
“After all the money I’ve put out, nothing better or some heads will roll,” Jeffery jested with a hint of seriousness.
The Reverend Mister Howard Matthews approached the two men. “If you’re ready to proceed, Mr. Gordon, the time is here. Shall Mrs. Smith begin on the piano?” His beady brown eyes watched the man before them.
Matthews had been surprised by Jeffery’s command performance, but had not dared to refuse it. His alert, curious senses had discovered many secrets about both men. Gordon was a fool if he believed no one knew of his under-the-table connections with those unsavory cutthroats who controlled the riverbanks! But Gordon was not a foolish man. He knew no one would go against him or that weaselly Frenchman at his side. He read the contemptuous lights in both men’s eyes, but smiled as if blind to them. Inwardly he seethed at the blatant, wicked offenses of these two scoundrels. With all his might he wished the Lord God Almighty would strike them down!
Matthews nodded his signal to Mrs. Smith to begin the music. Jeffery, Henri, and Matthews assumed their respective positions at the far end of the room. It was but moments before Alisha nearly floated gracefully to Jeffery’s side. Hiram placed her hand in Jeffery’s, then stepped back a few feet.
Alisha’s eyes briefly fused with Jeffery’s; their lips exchanged wary smiles. Matthews opened his large, wellworn black Bible to begin this strange ceremony in which he felt was uniting a known devil with the likeness
of an angel. Matthews could not even fathom a guess as to why this lovely, delicate creature was marrying Jeffery Gordon. Her soul would surely be in jeopardy!
“My dear friends and neighbors, we are gathered here to witness the joining in lawful wedlock…” Matthews began, as nearly every person in the room began his own mental story. The ceremony droned on and on; Matthews outdid himself with lovely clichés.
For Alisha, the ceremony seemed endless. She had great difficulty focusing on the reverend’s words or on the significance of them. When the time came for her replies, Jeffery had to nudge her back to reality. Flushed with embarrassment, she mechanically repeated her vows.
Jeffery voiced his vows and promises in a deep, resonant tone. When the correct moment arrived, he lifted Alisha’s frigid left hand and slipped his ring upon her middle finger. She stared at the Gordon family crest emblazoned upon its face, feeling the satisfaction of his possession of her.
Alisha failed to hear the remainder of the ceremony or the final pronouncement of her terrifying fate. Suddenly it was all over, and Jeffery was lifting her quivering chin for his rightful kiss. His mouth was warm and gentle; yet, there was a subtle demand and smoldering fire beneath it. His hands on either side of her oval face prevented any refusal or termination without it being noticed by their guests.
The unwilling bride helplessly surrendered her mouth to his. As his lips left hers, after a very lengthy kiss, her baffled gaze met his equally puzzled one. They simply stared at each other, each trying to analyze their strange reaction to a mere kiss. Annoyed by her unexpected power over him, Jeffery was the first to recover and to end the unexplainable spell.
Alisha blamed her illogical feelings upon the beauty and magic of such an event. Then, too, there were her warring emotions to accept some of the blame for her lapse. There was no time to analyze this peculiar matter any further, for they were rapidly surrounded by wellwishers.
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