“Why are you afraid of me again? I like our friendship too. Marriage won’t change that.”
She attempted to curl into herself, the vivacious Genevieve of the previous moments disappearing.
“Genevieve, what is the matter?”
“I don’t see why we have to marry,” she blurted out.
He gave a short chuckle. “For one, your reputation is in tatters. You’ve been traveling with me for over three days now with no chaperone. And we shared a bed every night. Besides, many on this train believe we are already married.”
“Nothing happened!”
He smiled at her blush. “We know that. No one else does, and, trust me, no one else would believe us.”
“I just … I …” Her voice broke off as she curled forward, settling her face against her knees. “I can’t bear to have you touch me.”
His incredulous snort resounded through the small room. “What?” He stroked along her cheek, tilting her face to meet her devastated gaze. “You sleep tight against my chest all night. You curl into me and don’t fight the feel of my arms around you when you’re asleep. Don’t tell me you don’t like my touch.”
“I don’t know you!” she wailed, tears pouring from her eyes. “How can I marry you?”
His initial anger abated as he recognized her terror. “Forgive me, Vivie. Of course you don’t know me well. I understand a few meetings at your sister’s house and a walk in the park aren’t sufficient to determine if we will suit. But circumstances are out of our control.” He paused as her breathing calmed with his soothing words, and then the panic eased from her features. He smiled reassuringly. “I don’t want to give your father the opportunity to find us and bring you home. The only way I can protect you from a man, such as Mr. Carlisle, is if I marry you.” He chased away her tears with soft caresses of his fingers. “Is that what you want?”
She nodded.
“We can wait to … to be together, if that’s what you choose,” he whispered. “I want you to realize you have that choice.”
“What if my father finds us?” she asked.
“We’ll be married,” Lucas said. “He can do nothing once we are wed. We’ve shared a bed. He doesn’t have the right to know what occurs in that bed.”
She lowered her head, in defeat or acquiescence. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not that important to him. He’ll never come after me.” She sat up, scrubbing at her face and severing any contact with Lucas. “We arrive in Minneapolis tomorrow morning. Where are we traveling after that?”
Lucas sighed at the change in conversation. “I’m uncertain. Let’s focus on our wedding, and then we can decide where we want to go. Once we are wed, it will be our decision, not mine.” He smiled at her, his attempt at reassuring her failing. “If you prefer, I can procure an empty seat in the main area tonight. You can have this room for yourself.”
“You would do that for me?”
He nodded, his fingers tapping on his knees. “Let me find the porter.” He rose and soon settled the new arrangements with him. Lucas gave her a kiss on her forehead and left her for the remainder of the evening. She sat, staring at the black night into a sea of nothingness and wondered what she’d bargained for.
Genevieve tossed to her other side before flopping to her back. The clack-clack-clack of the train proved a nuisance rather than promoting sleep. She shivered and pulled the blankets tighter around her, absently wishing for Lucas’s warmth next to her. She imagined Lucas sleeping in a chair, sacrificing his comfort for hers, and tears threatened. “I don’t want to marry a stranger,” she whispered to herself and curled on her side once more, hiding her tears in her pillow.
After her tears abated, she attempted to calm herself as she thought of Boston. Of walking along the Charles River with her sisters. Of visiting the seaside to the north in the summer with her parents. Of laughing with her friends at the various balls and soirees they attended.
She tensed as she thought of the last ball, at her friend Marjorie Driby’s mansion. Inadvertently her mind conjured the vision of that evening. The crisp late-November air. Her laughter as she handed her cloak to the butler as her friend grabbed her hand and tugged her into the main ballroom. The excitement as they stood to the side of the room, talking behind their fans about the young men present. Her disappointment when Mr. Carlisle approached and proceeded to cling to her worse than a spring tick. She shuddered as her mind shied away from him pushing her into a dark corner.
She sat up, unable to sleep with her thoughts in turmoil. She raised a shaky hand to her forehead, wiping away perspiration, and then to her cheeks, finding a few errant tears. She rose, fumbling around in the dark until she found her wrap. She poked her head out the curtain and scurried to the washroom.
Upon exiting, she stifled a shriek when a hand reached out and touched her arm in the dimly lit hallway.
“Are you all right, Vivie?” Lucas whispered. He leaned forward in an attempt to better see her face.
“I’m fine,” she blustered. “I … How are you?” She frowned as she looked at him in his rumpled clothes and disheveled hair. “Why are you awake?”
He shook his head and motioned for her to precede him down the hallway. “Let’s get you back to bed,” he whispered. “I don’t like you being in the hallway in your nightdress.”
She spun and raced toward their compartment after his words. He followed her inside, tripping over a pair of shoes in the dark. He muttered a curse before regaining his balance. “Let’s get you tucked in,” he said.
“I’m not a child,” she whispered. She heard him chuckle at her petulant tone, and she shook with anger. “I wish you’d see me as a woman.”
His hands stilled at her waist, his fingers tightening on the covers at her words. “Vivie, don’t start. Not tonight.”
She sat up and was face-to-face with him as he leaned over the bed. “What do you mean?”
He sighed and bumped her with his hip so she moved to the side. He sat next to her, twisted at the waist, one knee bent on the bed, so he faced her. “I’m tired and in no mood for a sparring match.”
She frowned in the dim light, reaching for his hand. “Have I offended you?”
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, you haven’t. If you’d lay down and go to sleep, I’ll return to my chair out there.” His gruff tone and curt words revealed his true feelings.
When he moved to rise, she grabbed his hand. “Stay with me.” At his hesitance, she murmured, “Please.”
“Why, Vivie?” he asked.
She played with his hand, tracing his long fingers. “Because these last nights with you were the first nights in weeks I’ve slept well. And I’m not sleeping tonight. I’d like to sleep.” When he frowned, she moved to the side of the mattress. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
He nodded and kicked off his shoes. He shucked his shirt and trousers but kept his underclothes on. When he crawled into the bed, he gave a groan of appreciation. “Oh, this is heaven,” he muttered. “After the torture of that chair out there.” He sighed, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her back to his front. He buried his face in her hair, breathing deeply. “Sleep, Vivie. Sleep.”
Chapter 3
Lucas stood close to Genevieve as they waited on the platform. She leaned closer to him as people bustled around them. “We’ll head to the West Hotel. I’ve already reserved us a suite of rooms,” he said. He conferred with the porter, instructing him to send his trunks there. Before he could depart to find a cab, the couple from the dining car blocked their path.
“Oh, we must know where you will be staying. We want to ensure we have the opportunity to hear you play, and if we could have a private concert …” The wife closed her eyes as though in the throes of ecstasy. “How fortunate to have traveled on two train trips with you. And how tragic neither train had a piano car. Their lack of foresight is inexcusable.”
Lucas frowned and cleared his throat. “I’m thankful you wish to
hear me play. However, I’m afraid we have no fixed schedule. If you will excuse us?” Genevieve moved around them but was separated from Lucas when the husband stepped in their path and stopped Lucas.
“There’s no need to be surly to my wife. I’d think you’d be thankful for any patron of your arts.” He spread his legs and threw his shoulders back, inadvertently thrusting his paunch out.
“I’m always appreciative of those who admire my music. However, as I explained on the train, I am not performing at this time while on my honeymoon. I hope your daughter enjoys the wedding music,” he murmured as he slipped by the man and moved down the platform.
“Let’s walk a few blocks to ensure they don’t attempt to follow us,” Genevieve whispered. “They’d never be able to keep up with us.”
Lucas laughed, his tension seeping away with her comments. He carried her travel bag and violin case in his left hand while walking arm-in-arm with Genevieve. Upon exiting the station, they walked to the far side of the building near a bustling street corner.
“This is as far as I’m going in this cold,” he said as he shivered. “And we’ll kill ourselves on this ice if we walk farther.” He raised his arm for a cab, and, within moments, they were safely inside the vehicle and headed toward their hotel.
Once they were settled in their suite, Genevieve roamed the sitting room. She traced her finger over the back of one of the gentlemen’s chairs in a light-blue silk. There were numerous chairs, two settees, potted plants, and a wall of windows, allowing an abundance of natural light to enter. She jumped at the knock on the door.
Lucas emerged from the bedroom, wearing a fresh dark-brown suit, the color of rich chocolate, enhanced by the startling whiteness of his shirt. He yanked open the door and clasped the man there in a hug, rocking to and fro. She frowned and rubbed at a stain on her dark-blue travel dress.
“Vivie, I want you to meet a good friend of mine, Perry Hawke. He’s on tour now and happens to be in Minneapolis until Christmas.” Lucas slapped Perry on the back, pushing him into the room.
“Ma’am,” Perry said with a deferential nod. He was slightly taller than Lucas, nearing six feet, with a large chest and broad shoulders. His blond hair was cut short but free of pomade, and his light-brown eyes sparkled with curiosity.
“Are you a pianist too?” Genevieve asked. She remained by the window, her hands clenched over her waist. She frowned when her question caused both men to laugh.
“I beg your pardon, ma’am. No. I’m a singer.”
“Oh, you’re that Mr. Hawke,” she breathed, unable to hide her note of reverence. “I never imagined Lucas knew you.”
“Ah, he’s a sly man, is Lucas,” Perry teased.
“My sisters and I have all your recordings. We’d fight over which one we should play first.” She flushed at her words. “I beg your pardon. I’m certain you wish to escape fawning fans when away from the music halls.”
He laughed. “No, I love hearing such stories. Most of us aren’t like Lucas.”
Genevieve sat on a comfortable settee, and the men settled across from her in matching chairs. In quiet contentment she witnessed the two friends tease each other and discuss their business for a few minutes. Lucas addressed her with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, Vivie. I fear we get lost in catching up. I haven’t seen him in over a year. He’s been touring the United States and Canada while I’ve mainly been languishing in Boston.”
“I wouldn’t call recording one of the most popular songs of the year languishing,” Perry said with a laugh. “And now it seems you’re undertaking the greatest adventure of them all.” His gaze moved between the two of them, and Genevieve flushed.
“Do you have the documents?” Lucas asked.
“As you can imagine, a bit of speculation started when I showed up at the county courthouse, asking about marriage licenses. However, I did not give them your name, as per your request. I have arranged for a pastor to be here. I have the license, and a few of our friends from the show will act as witnesses.” He pulled out his pocket watch. “In two hours.”
“Two hours?” Genevieve said in a gasp. “I … we can’t …”
Lucas frowned in confusion. “Vivie, it’s why we’re here.”
“I have nothing to wear!” she blurted out and flushed. “Forgive me. I know there is much more to consider than my clothing.”
Lucas’s smile was filled with tenderness when he looked at her. “There’s something in the bedroom for you to change into, love.” His smile faded. “Don’t take too long. I don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”
She rose, rushing from the room. When she entered the bedroom, a cream-colored gown hung from the top of one of the closet doors. She gasped as she beheld it. “Lucas?” she called. After a moment he joined her. “Can you get it down for me?”
She held her hands together in wonder as he stood on his tiptoes and lowered the dress to the bed. She sighed and then flung herself in his arms. “Thank you. I know you didn’t have to do this for me, but you did. Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
His fingers tangled in her hair, and he held her close. “I want you to be proud of this day, Vivie.” He leaned back, kissed her on her forehead, and left her alone to prepare for their ceremony.
Lucas helped Perry move the furniture around in the sitting room so that the guests could sit and watch comfortably. “There, how is that?” Lucas asked.
“Fine. No one cares if the seats are perfectly placed,” Perry said. “They’re excited to see you again. And still hoping you’ll join me onstage one night.”
Lucas shrugged. “You never know. If I remain here long enough, I just might.” He took a deep breath in an attempt to dispel his rising sense of panic. “You’re certain this will be legal?”
“Of course. I have the license, which the pastor will sign and date, as will the witnesses, and then it will be put in the books. Nothing will go wrong,” Perry said with a broad smile. “I never expected you to choose such a woman.”
Lucas frowned at his friend. He motioned for him to extrapolate.
“I always thought you’d go for a stunning woman who was more body than brains. But, I can see you were smarter than I gave you credit for.” He reached out and slapped Lucas on the shoulder. “I hope you’ll be very happy, Lucas.”
“That makes two of us,” Lucas muttered as there was a knock at the door. He opened the door and allowed his friends from the concert hall to enter. He knew them well and trusted their discretion. As he was about to shut the door, he spied a man in black walking down the hall and waited for the pastor. He shook the man’s hand, discussed the simple and rather informal ceremony, and showed him where he was to stand.
“You do understand this is highly irregular, young man,” the elderly man intoned.
“I do,” Lucas said with a laugh. “But that would sum up most of my life.”
“I must ascertain that the bride is willing before beginning,” the pastor said.
Lucas walked to the bedroom door and knocked on it. “Vivie? The pastor is here and would like to speak with you.”
“Look away, Lucas. I don’t want you to see me until it’s time for the ceremony.” Genevieve’s voice sounded through the door.
He smiled at the pastor and walked away. The door cracked open, and he heard a hushed conversation. As he stood at the front of the seating area, he took deep breaths and closed his eyes, practicing relaxation techniques he’d learned years before when he had started touring.
“I’d open my eyes now if I were you,” Perry muttered into Lucas’s ear.
Lucas jerked and looked toward the bedroom. A delighted smile bloomed as he beheld Genevieve in her wedding finery, walking toward him. The long-sleeved cream-colored dress hugged her curves, enhancing her beauty. Her hair was styled in a loose knot, with curly tendrils down either cheek. She gifted him a tremulous smile with hope shining in her beautiful brown eyes, and he gripped her fingers, raising them for a kiss, before turning to face the pastor
.
He heard little of what the pastor said, except for words like support, cherish, honor, and trust. He closed his eyes. And love. He gripped her hand tighter then. He slipped a shiny gold band on her finger, sharing an amused smile with her as he recalled her teasing him about owing her a ring on the train. When it was time to kiss her, he traced a finger over her cheek, bending to gently kiss her on the lips. He met her startled gaze and smiled. He fought a frown at the trepidation and trace of panic in her eyes.
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Russell,” Perry boomed, breaking their private moment.
Lucas laughed and mock-bowed to his friends present. As though from nowhere, flutes of champagne appeared.
“After this, we are taking you out for dinner at one of the best restaurants in Minneapolis. No arguments,” Perry said.
Lucas laughingly agreed.
“I want to change from this lovely dress,” Genevieve said. She spoke with the pastor a moment, thanking him and ensuring nothing more needed to be done after she, Lucas, and the witnesses signed the requisite forms.
Lucas watched her retreat with concern. “Give me a moment,” he murmured to Perry and followed his wife. “Vivie?” Lucas asked as he entered their bedroom. He frowned as she stared at the dusky skyline. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she whispered as she swiped at her cheeks. “I’m a bit homesick is all. Wishing that some of my family could have been here for me.”
Lucas sighed and ran a hand over her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be thoughtless, having a room filled with my friends while you knew no one.”
She turned to him and stepped into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist after a moment’s hesitation. “It’s not your fault you know people everywhere. I’ve lived a sheltered life and know no one outside Boston.”
He kissed her head. “That’s not true. Now you know Perry and the others,” he teased, relaxing when he heard her chuckle. “Do you need help getting out of your dress?” He grinned when she flushed.
Escape To Love: Banished Saga, Book 6 Page 3