by Bobbi Smith
It would have been almost laughable if it wasn't so tragic. Now, here she was about to be married to a man who didn't love her. He was being forced by this Eastern society's stupid rule to do something she believed he didn't want to do, and it broke her heart to think about it.
Rori had always longed to have Chance for her own, but she didn't want him this way. Surely, being forced went against his grain. He would come to resent her with time and maybe even eventually hate her.
Rori couldn't bear the thought of his scorn, and that terrible prospect forced her to make a decision. She would not go through with the wedding. They certainly couldn't force her to marry him if she absolutely refused to. She would tell her aunt and uncle that she wanted to take Jakie and go home to the cabin she and Burr had shared back in Arizona. Life was certainly simpler in the territory, and she thought she might be able to find happiness there.
"What do you think, big guy? Do you want to go home?" she whispered to him as she hugged him close.
Jake lifted his big head and gave her a curious look.
"I know you like it here, but we can't stay."
He gave a low-throated whine, and Rori scowled at him. "No back talk, dog. We gotta go home, just the two of us. We'll be all right. You'll see." Rori was talking to Jakie, but in truth she was talking to herself. She knew it would be lonely. She knew she would miss her aunt and uncle, but it didn't matter. Anything would be better than being trapped in a loveless marriage. "I'm going down and tell them now. You wait here, and when I come back up, we'll start packing."
Chance was restlessly pacing the study. He stopped in the middle of the room to rub the back of his neck in a weary gesture. With a grimace, he forced himself to make the decision he'd been trying to avoid for hours. He was going to go to Rori and tell her that he loved her, and he was going to go now.
Chance knew that he'd delayed long enough. The thing that was holding him back, though, was that he didn't know quite what to say to her. He'd never told a woman that he loved her. He had always expected it would be a simple matter when the time finally came, but there was nothing simple about facing Rori tonight. Girding himself to face her, he strode from the room on his way to the Prescotts'.
"Aunt Charlotte . . . Uncle Joseph . . ." Rori paused, waiting until she had their full attention as she stood in the doorway of the parlor.
"Yes, dear, what is it?" Charlotte asked as she looked up from where she sat by her husband on the loveseat.
"I . . . uh, I've decided something." Rori found herself hesitating because she knew her decision was going to hurt them.
"Yes?"
"I want to go home," she blurted out, much as a small child would.
Her aunt and uncle frowned, not understanding.
"But, Aurora," Joseph remarked, "you are home."
"No . . . I mean, it's nice here, and I love you both very much, but I want to go home to Arizona. Grampa and I had a small cabin. Jakie and I could live there . . ."
"I'm sorry, Aurora, but the answer is no. You're our niece. We love you, and we want what's best for you," he attempted to explain.
"Please, please don't force me into a loveless marriage!" Tears welled up in her eyes, and her voice was strangled. Not wanting to break down in front of them, she turned and ran back up the stairs.
Joseph gave Charlotte a troubled look, but she just smiled serenely.
"Pre-wedding jitters, darling. I recall I had them myself."
"You did?" Joseph's eyes rounded in surprise at her confession.
"Every young girl does, my darling. Wait here. I'll handle it."
Someone knocked on the door as Charlotte started out into the foyer, and she answered it herself. She was surprised and pleased to find Chance there.
"You're just the young man I wanted to see," she declared, her eyes aglow with delight over his perfect timing.
"I am?"
"Yes, you are. You love Aurora, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Have you told her yet?"
"Well, no," he admitted a little sheepishly, intending to explain the situation to Charlotte, but she gave him no opportunity.
"And why not? You had all afternoon, for heaven's sake!"
"I didn't have the chance to explain things to her . . ."
"What is this younger generation coming to?" she scolded in exasperation. "Get up those stairs, young man. Take her in your arms and kiss her. Tell her the truth right now. Aurora thinks that you're in love with Bethany and only marrying her out of a sense of duty."
"She does?"
"Yes. Now, hurry. She's all set to go home to Arizona."
Chance hurried up the staircase as Charlotte called out from below, "Get the right room! It's the third bedroom on the left."
Rori was crying, and her tears were nearly blinding her as she threw open the small suitcase. She started rummaging through her closet in search of the few things she needed for the trip back. She pulled out two of her plainest gowns and tossed them on the bed, then started digging through the vast array of clothes again. When she found her old buckskins tied in a bundle at the back of the closet, she clutched them to her breast and sobbed brokenheartedly. Sitting down in the middle of the closet floor, she gave up fighting her misery. She buried her face in her hands and began to cry.
Chance knocked on the door, and when no one answered, he opened it slowly.
"Rori?" He said her name softly as he stepped inside. He heard her crying, and the sound of her ragged, desolate weeping drove him across the room to the closet. "Rori?"
Rori couldn't believe it. Chance was here? Why? Her gaze was tormented as she stared up at him. He appeared so tall and strong and handsome as he loomed over her. She remembered the heaven of being in his arms, resting against the powerful width of his chest. She longed for the safety of that haven now, but she knew it could never be. Trying to pull herself together, she got to her feet, her motions jerky and awkward.
"Chance, go away and leave me alone!" she demanded as she grabbed up a dress and stomped out of the closet, trying to wipe the tears from her cheeks as she went.
"I can't. We have to talk." Chance was stunned by the depth of her misery.
"There's nothing left to talk about," she snapped as she threw her buckskins into the suitcase and started folding up the other things in abrupt, hurried motions. She deliberately avoided meeting his gaze as she worked at packing her clothes.
"Why? What's the rush?"
"The rush is I'm leaving," she told him over her shoulder.
"Oh, no, you're not."
"Oh, yes, I am!" Rori was so upset that she started just tossing items into the suitcase.
"You're not leaving Boston. You're not going anywhere," Chance came to stand beside her. As quickly as she was throwing things into the valise, he was yanking them out again.
"I'll go anywhere I like, Chance. You're not my guardian anymore," she said hotly, glaring up at him mutinously as her tears continued to fall. She snatched up the garment he'd just pulled out of the suitcase and stuffed it back in again.
"I'm not your guardian anymore, but by this time tomorrow, I'm going to be your husband."
"No!" she cried, trying to hide her misery with false bravado. "Go away and leave me alone."
"I won't go away, not until we've talked. If you still want me to go, once you've listened to me and heard what I've got to say, I will."
"Chance, you don't have to tell me anything. I don't want to force you into a marriage. I know you love Bethany, so marry her. I won't stand in your way." She almost broke down completely as she spoke. "There. See? Now there's nothing left for you to say. Just leave, so I can finish my packing."
"Rori . . ." he said her name gently. "There most certainly is something left for me to say."
"What?" She turned away so she wouldn't have to look at him and started putting things in the suitcase again.
"Rori . . ." He inhaled deeply, then said his next words with deep passion, "Rori, I love you."
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br /> Chapter Thirty-seven
Rori's heart skipped a beat at his declaration, and she went completely still. He'd said it . . . the words she'd always longed for him to say . . . and he'd said it with such a depth of feeling that she was shaken to her very soul. Did he really love her or was this just a ploy to make her go through with the wedding?
"Rori? Did you hear me?" Chance had expected some response from her, and her unusual silence worried him. He'd never known Rori to be at a loss for words. "Rori?" Chance's expression was infinitely tender as he reached out to take her by the shoulders and turn her around to face him. He took the dress she was clutching from her and tossed it carelessly aside while his eyes held hers. "Rori. I love you."
Rori stared up at him almost afraid to speak. "You don't have to say these things just to make everything seem better."
"I'm not just saying these things, Rori. I really mean them." He lifted one hand to gently wipe the tears from her face.
His touch sent a thrill through her, but she fought against it. "I want a husband who loves me," she whispered, not yet daring to believe that it could be true.
"That's what you're going to have," Chance vowed. "A husband who loves you and only you . . ." He wanted to drag her into his arms and kiss her until she cried out with desire for him, but he held himself back. He wanted to share more than passion with Rori. When they came together again, he wanted it to be a joining of two people in love, a joining of man and wife.
"But . . ." she started to protest, still believing that he truly cared for Bethany.
"I've been trying to tell you for weeks how I felt," Chance interrupted, smiling tenderly, "but you wouldn't let me get near you. I love you, Rori Prescott."
Rori wanted to believe, but she had to know the truth about Bethany. "What about Bethany?!" Rori voiced her reason for not trusting him. "I was in the study that night of her party, and I saw you with her out on the porch."
"I thought you might have. It's just a shame that you didn't stay around longer."
"I couldn't stay there. It hurt me too much to see you with her! You were kissing her!"
"I did kiss her. I admit it. But the kiss was more one of good-bye than anything. There's a dark-haired woman with eyes like sparkling emeralds who holds my heart, Rori. A woman whose kiss is more potent than the finest liquor."
Her expression was slowly losing its guarded edge.
"It's true. If you'd stayed there in the study another few minutes you would have heard me tell Bethany that I didn't love her."
"You say you don't love Bethany, but ever since I met you, she's the only woman you've talked about," Rori challenged.
Chance frowned, trying to remember any references he'd made to the other woman. "When?"
"That night you were attacked in your room and I saved you, all you could talk about was Bethany and how nice it would have been to spend the night in her bed."
"You were jealous even then?" Chance teased, thrilled to hear it.
Rori flushed, but ignored his remark as she continued. "You even told Grampa that you were thinking about marrying her!"
"The most important word in that sentence is 'thinking,' Rori. I can't deny that Bethany and I have been . . . er . . ." He paused, trying to phrase it delicately. "More than friends. But that was all before you, Rori. I haven't wanted any woman but you since the first time I touched you . . . Hell, almost since the first time I saw you." He took her by the shoulders and drew her closer.
"You haven't?" The heat of his nearness was searing her senses, and she trembled before the power of her attraction for him.
"No, and these weeks apart have been hell for me. You may have been jealous of Bethany, but I was livid over your seeing Strickland. Every time I heard that you were out with him, I wanted to go after you and drag you back here with me. Only your aunt's advice to give you some time, kept me from making a damned fool of myself." He grinned bemusedly.
Rori gave a small, warm laugh of real delight to know that he'd been as miserable as she. "I thought you were out with Bethany having a wonderful time."
"I haven't seen Bethany or anyone, Rori. You're the only woman I want or need. I've missed you," Chance told her, his voice lowering seductively.
"I've missed you, too, desperately."
"Then why wouldn't you see me? I came to see you that day after the party because I wanted to tell you that I loved you. I was going to ask you to marry me. You mean everything to me, Rori." His voice deepened with profound emotion. He lifted both hands to frame her face, his eyes meeting and locking ardently with hers in a mesmerizing exchange. "I love you, Rori, with all my heart and soul."
Rori stood motionless, totally enchanted. Chance loved her . . . If it was true, then . . .
"But Chance, I . . . "
"Hush, Rori. I'm tired of words . . . of talking . . . Let me show you how much I love you," he groaned as he bent to her. His lips touched her forehead reverently, then her eyelids and the corners of her mouth, then the sensitive area of her neck.
Tumultuous emotions swept through her . . . love, joy, hope. She had waited so long, had wanted this for so long . . . Was this really happening? Did Chance really love her?
One of Chance's hands slipped to the nape of her neck in a warm caress as the other slid down to the curve of her waist to draw her to him. "Ah, Rori, I love you so . . . "
His mouth finally moved over hers, claiming it in a possessive, yet cherishing kiss, and she had the answer to all her questions. Her doubts were erased in an explosion of sweet ecstasy. Chance loved her . . . Chance loved her!
Chance was so desperate to convince Rori of his devotion that he put everything he was feeling into that embrace. With exquisite tenderness and carefully restrained ardor, he revealed just how much he adored her. She was his life and his future. With her by his side, he could do anything; without her, life had no meaning and he just existed.
When the kiss ended, Chance lifted his head to gaze down at her. His eyes were glowing darkly with an inner fervor, but there was also a shadow of apprehension reflected there as he waited for her to speak.
Rori stared up at him, her green eyes wide and sparkling. "Oh, Chance . . . I love you, too! I always have!"
"God, Rori. I was beginning to think that I'd never hear you say those words." He crushed her to him, holding her to his heart. "Will you marry me, Rori Prescott? Will you be my wife?"
"Yes, Chance. Oh, yes!" She looped her arms about his neck and pulled him down to her for a flaming, wildly passionate kiss.
They were so engrossed in the heat of their embrace that neither one of them heard the knock at the door or heard it open. Charlotte entered and was not at all surprised to find them locked in a heated embrace. She stood there in the doorway, a smile of pure joy upon her face. She had been right! They did love each other. She waited, giving them a moment before clearing her throat loudly.
"I think it's safe to assume everything's fine between the two of you?" she asked archly.
Chance and Rori looked up, startled. Still stung by her earlier experience with "compromising" positions, Rori nervously tried to move out of the circle of his arms, but he held her fast, refusing to let her go.
"Rori's agreed to become my wife," he announced proudly.
"That's wonderful!"
"I love him, Aunt Charlotte," Rori confessed, glowing with happiness.
"I'm so thrilled for both of you. Let's go downstairs and tell your uncle the news. I'm sure he'll be pleased to know that everything's worked out as we'd hoped it would."
"All right."
"We can go over the plans for the ceremony, too, while you're here, Chance. We've got less than twenty-four hours left, you know, and I want to make sure everything goes perfectly."
"So do we," they both agreed as they followed Charlotte from the bedroom, their gazes fixed raptly on each other.
Chance stood before the mirror in his bedroom, looking appraisingly at himself. He straightened his white silk tie one last
time, then moved to don his coat. The knock at the door surprised him.
"Come in," he called out, settling the dress coat across his shoulders and adjusting his cuffs.
"Chancellor, darling . . ." Agatha came sweeping into the room, resplendent in her gown for the wedding. "I need to speak with you for a moment . . ."
"Well." He turned toward his mother, spreading his arms out and grinning boyishly. "What do you think? Do I look all right?"
Agatha had never seen Chance look any handsomer. In his dress clothes and white tie, he looked wonderful. She smiled brightly, but the tears in her eyes were very real as she went to hug him. "You look magnificent, my handsome son. Your father would be very proud of you today."
"I hope so," Chance responded, his voice a bit gruff as he gave her a tender kiss on the cheek.
"He would be. You've grown into a fine man. You're everything he ever hoped you'd be, and you've chosen a wonderful young woman for your bride. Be happy, Chance," she said lovingly as she lifted a hand to touch his cheek.
"I will be. I love her, Mother."
"I know, and she loves you." Agatha smiled.
"Are you about ready to go?" Chance asked, ready for the wedding, eager to make Rori his.
"Yes, but first I have a little surprise for you."
"A surprise?"
Agatha handed him a key. "I've sent several of the servants on ahead to our house at the shore, dear. It will be ready for you and your bride by the time you arrive there this evening. Enjoy your honeymoon."
"Thank you, Mother." Chance was pleased.
"Your father and I spent our honeymoon on the coast . . ." she told him, remembering those wonderful, love-filled days so long ago.
"Well, I hope our marriage will be as happy as yours was."
"It will be," Agatha said with a soft smile as she gazed up at him adoringly. "I love you, darling." She hugged her oldest son, remembering him as a boy, marveling at how big he'd grown and how he'd turned into such a fine man. Had the years really gone by that quickly? she asked herself, trying not to let her tears fall, but failing. At Chance's concerned look, she hastened to reassure him as she dabbed at her eyes with her lace handkerchief. "They're happy tears, dear, just happy tears."