“It’s all settled then.” His mother shot a glance back and forth as if hoping to see a spark of love between them. “Next Friday instead of Saturday? Are you pleased?”
Jonathan took Emma’s hand. Her feminine clasp fit perfectly in his. His throat tightened. He wouldn’t let his family down. “We can hardly wait.”
His father cleared his throat. “And we can’t wait for the fourth generation Steller to arrive.”
A trickle of sweat dripped down Jonathan’s back. He pressed his eyes shut. Don’t go there. No one single thought of baby making—”
***
The wedding took place on the terrace in the Steller’s backyard. Because of the brief engagement, Emma hadn’t expected many people to be invited, but by the late morning, five hundred guests had arrived for the service and a mid-day meal on the estate grounds. She thought about inviting some of the gals at her job at a music store, but she wasn’t close enough to any of them to confide her reason for a remarriage in under four months.
She wandered back toward the tulle-festooned head table, having used the excuse of refilling her punch glass to stretch her legs. She’d only toyed with the gourmet surf and turf on her plate. She’d hoped to have a moment alone with Jonathan, but she hadn’t seen him since they had cut the cake. Odd that he looked so stern. He didn’t even take more than one bite of the chocolate confection. How could he be more nervous than she?
Waiters in white tails served lunch, and a string quartet played a myriad of Bach and Beethoven melodies. Her wedding to DJ had been nothing like this. Just a quick trip to the justice of the peace and out for a meal at a local club with a couple of friends. DJ had spoiled the event by getting drunk.
Unfortunately, their wedding day had only been the beginning of a pattern of drinking in his life. Guilt gnawed at her—was his drinking in some way her fault? She had been so young when they married, did she even know how to be a good wife? Was that why he was so unhappy? Her heart sunk. It had to be. Though her marriage had been difficult, somehow comparing the two different wedding days felt disloyal to his memory.
She tugged on the strapless vanilla gown her mother-in-law had flown in from Milan. At her first wedding, Emma wore a black t-shirt and jeans just because her ostentatious mother would never approve. And the next morning, with DJ hung over, they had moved her stuff from the college dorm into the small cottage on the Steller estate at his new job. This time, her belongings had been transferred by servants into an almost finished wing in the Steller estate—
“Time to get changed.” Nick’s warm voice interrupted her.
“What?” Emma looked around for Jonathan. “Did Jonathan send you to fetch me?”
***
Nick smiled, feeling a blush creep up his neck. This woman was beautiful. Hard to believe Jonathan wanted an on-paper only marriage. He’d have to place a bet with Orlando how long that would last. Too bad she didn’t know what she was getting into. How driven Jonathan was. He could have made her a lot happier. “Not fetch. I like to think of it of having the honor of escorting the beautiful bride to him.”
Emma slipped her arm in his as they walked through the crowd. “How long have you worked for Jonathan?”
“I have worked for your father-in-law, Mr. Hans Steller for two years.” Nick waved at a politician that looked somewhat familiar to Emma. Two years making him look good to his father. Not that Uncle Hans ever gave his son any kudos. There were times when his uncle seemed to treat him better than his own son. “But I’m actually Nickolas Steller, his second cousin. Our grandfathers started this company together in Germany.”
“Really? You don’t look anything like him.”
He smiled with the whitest teeth she’d ever seen. “My mother was Italian.”
“Do you like working with Jonathan?”
“Oh, sometimes he gets puffed up, but I keep him in his place.” He smiled widely beautiful.
Emma bit back a grin, thinking of a Cheshire cat.
“If he isn’t careful, I might steal his job away from him.”
“But—”
“I’m teasing.” Whew, that was close. Why did he confess such a thing? “What is there not to like about him? My cousin is the smartest, most driven, most passionate man I’ve ever known. He’s just like me.” Which was true. Jonathan was a good man. But good men didn’t always finish first.
“And sell soda?”
Nick laughed. “Jonathan didn’t tell me you were beautiful and funny. No, I want to run a corporation.” I want to run the corporation. I’m better than Jonathan. I don’t always let my morals get in the way of accomplishing the task I’ve been given.”
Emma nodded. Funny how DJ hated that corporate persona and here she was marrying one.
“Emma.”
***
Emma startled at Jonathan’s deep voice, ashamed for dwelling on DJ. She spun around and searched Jonathan’s stony expression. What was he thinking? “Have you eaten? I could fetch you a—”
“I’m not hungry. Thank you, Nick for finding her.”
“Of course. I’ll have the car brought around and then oversee the luggage loaded.” Nick winked at Emma and strode away.
Jonathan took her hand and led her toward the house. His grasp felt cold. They had hardly spoken a word to each other since their I do’s. He had spent the reception milling about the room chatting with the guests like a campaigning congressman, virtually ignoring her. Was this what their marriage would be like?
“My mother’s waiting for you in the yellow guest room to help you change out of your dress.” Jonathan waved at an older gentleman and woman strolling by. “Mr. President, Mrs. Standish, thank you for coming.”
Emma whirled around and watched the familiar couple pass, surrounded by men in dark suits. “Oh, I wanted to meet him.”
“Another time,” Jonathan’s voice sounded firm. He glanced at his watch. “We’ve got to get going.”
Hurt stung her heart. Could he not indulge her one request? He hadn’t even complimented her on her wedding dress. Or toasted with her their important day. She swallowed back tears as she worked to keep up with Jonathan’s long strides and to stay off her hem. Until now, the day had been more like an odd fairy tale, but now reality had set in. She was Mrs. Jonathan Steller. And they were about to board the company jet and fly to Germany.
For their honeymoon.
Her stomach tightened. Pull it together, Duckie. She’d signed the agreement early this morning before the wedding, and she wasn’t one to back down from a commitment. From now on, her aim would be to become the kind of wife Jonathan expected. Maybe for the first time in her life, she’d feel like she was successful at something. Unlike her piano career, and first marriage where she’d been a complete failure, maybe she could make Jonathan happy. How hard could it be to become a member of one of the richest families in America? Panic nearly welled her throat shut as she started to pull away from him. “I’ll go change.”
“I’m sorry.” He drew her back to him and kissed her forehead. “This is your special day, and I shouldn’t rush you. Let’s go find the president.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. Just promise me someday you’ll introduce me to him.”
His brow furrowed as if conflicted by something. He lifted her fingertips and kissed each one. “Of course.”
She searched his serious face for some clue as to what would have him so bothered. Did he regret marrying her? Did he still miss his old girlfriend?
He gave her a nod. “My mother is waiting for you.”
“Yes, of course, forgive me, I shouldn’t have kept her waiting.” Emma lifted her long skirt and turned to go when Jonathan grabbed her and pulled her back into his arms. He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her with such power she could feel her knees weakening. To stay upright, she wrapped her arms around him and felt him pull her closer. His kisses grew more fervent, deeper, when a melody of laughter rang around them.
Emma pulled back to see their atte
ndees watching. A nervous laugh escaped her lips.
The crowd clapped and cheered.
Another Bronte poem rang in her head…
We'll not let its follies grieve us,
We'll just take them as they come;
And then every day will leave us
A merry laugh for home.
Jonathan nodded for her to leave, and then disappeared into the crowd.
Confused by his behavior, Emma headed through the sunroom, passed three long tables laden with exquisitely wrapped gifts, each one trying to outdo the other. A nervous laugh caught in her throat. If only the givers knew the truth about the arrangement between her and Jonathan. Would they still be so generous?
Emma lifted her long white dress enough to clear the steps and make it to the top of the sweeping staircase, only getting lost once on her way to the yellow room.
“There you are.” Mrs. Steller handed her a large glass of pink soda. “I imagine you must be thirsty.”
Emma wanted water, but figured she had to start supporting the family empire sometime. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Steller sipped her soda as her maid pulled out the pins of Emma’s veil and unzipped the back of her dress.
“Ma’am, I’ve hung your travel suit in the bathroom.” The maid smiled.
Emma took in a deep gulp of air, as if she’d been holding her breath all day. “Thank you.” She kicked off her shoes and padded into the part-lounge, part-living room, part palatial bathroom, and changed into the new gray pinstriped pants with a pinstriped blazer and a bright pink shirt she’d purchased.
As she stepped out of the bathroom, her mother-in-law gripped a designer gray patent leather purse. “See, it coordinates with your jacket and, ta-da,” she twirled the purse around, “a matching pink scarf is already tied in place.”
“Brilliant.” Warm gratitude infused Emma. This woman was so not what she’d expected. “Thank you, Mrs. Steller, and to Mr. Steller, for a lovely wedding. And I appreciate you both being so welcoming.”
She held Emma’s face in her hands. “I don’t know exactly all the details of your quick courtship with Jonathan,” her blue eyes twinkled and Emma recognized Jonathan’s eye color. “But I’ve known that he has been lonely, for a long time and now I see a glimmer of light in his smile, a quickness in his step. I know God has brought you to him as a blessing. And I’m hoping you will encourage him in the gift God has given him.”
“Gift?”
Mrs. Steller smiled with her eyes as well as her mouth. “As odd as this may sound, Jonathan’s gift is the wealth that’s been given him.”
“I—I’ve never seen money in that way. In my life, it’s been more of a curse.” Emma snuck a glance at the older woman, fearing she might ask questions.
Instead, she took Emma’s hands in hers. “Like the story in the Bible, where a master gives three of his servant’s talents. You both have been given gifts to bless others. And my prayer for you and Jonathan is that you will not bury them under a rock, but use them for God’s glory.”
Emma nodded. Other than DJ’s parents, she’d never met anyone who talked about God in such a familiar manner. “I’d like that, too.”
“Fair enough.” Mrs. Steller led Emma out the door and down the stairs. “Now, when you get back from your honeymoon, I’ll be here for you. The new wing for you and Jonathan will be done and you can start decorating it.” Mrs. Steller handed Emma her travel bag. “Eight thousand square feet of living space should be adequate for now.”
“E—eight thousand?” The muscles in Emma’s neck tightened.
“Then we’ll have to do some shopping for some of the more formal gowns you’ll need for our upcoming dinners.”
An itch started on Emma’s left shoulder blade and she squirmed to ease its prickly feel.
Mrs. Steller led her to the double French doors that led to the outside, where the wedding crowd had gathered to wish them goodbye. “The fall is always a very busy social season, but you and Jonathan won’t be expected to entertain much in your new home. A tea, a luncheon, a dinner every other week should be manageable.”
“B—but,” Emma protested. She wasn’t very good at putting parties together.
“Don’t forget your shoes, ma’am.” The maid scurried down the stairs holding a pair of gray pumps in the air.
Emma looked down at her stocking feet. How was she ever going to make it as a society wife, if she couldn’t even tell whether she was wearing shoes? She took the Prada footwear and quickly slipped her feet into them. Every pore on her body broke out in a cold sweat. Emma tugged on her jacket and set a bright smile on her lips. “Thank you again, Mrs. Steller, for everything.”
“I’m very pleased to be your mother-in-law, but please, call me by my nickname, Babsy.”
“Babsy.” Again, why did all moneyed people have the same nicknames? Now she knew a Rich R Us Website certainly did exist. “Of course.”
Nick opened the French doors. “The car is waiting, Mrs. Steller.”
“Thank you,” they both answered.
Mrs. Steller smiled and kissed Emma’s cheek. “All Jonathan needs is your love. He hides a gentle heart under his professional exterior, but inside is a man who’s been hurt and needs the affection of a loving woman to restore his soul.”
Affection? Emma swallowed. “I’ll try and remember that.”
Nick shook Jonathan’s hand. “Congratulations, Jonathan. I’ll make sure everything is taken care of at the office.”
Jonathan nodded. “I know you will.”
Once outside in the dominating August sun, Emma and Jonathan posed for pictures next to, outside, and inside the limo, until her cheeks hurt from smiling. When the driver finally closed the door behind the newlyweds, Emma let out a huff of air. “What a day. We didn’t get to see much of each other—”
The shrill of a cell phone interrupted her words. Jonathan answered it, then mouthed the word, Shanghai, before he started talking.
Emma stared out the window as the limo pulled onto I-70, on their way to Lambert Airport. A lump welled in her throat. Was he going to be this preoccupied all the time? She understood his offer of marriage was one of mutual convenience, but she’d hoped they could work out a friendship, at least. Needing reassurance, she flipped through the small Bible she’d tucked into her travel bag. Her eyes landed on the scripture, Guard me as the apple of your eye.
If only she could believe that God cared that much about her.
“Would you like a drink?” Jonathan, done with his call, now held out a fizzing glass.
“Thank you.” She reached for the glass and took a sip. Apple soda. A trickle of pleasure filled her. Was it a coincidence? Hope infused her heart. “Shall we toast? To us?”
Jonathan’s face clouded. “Sure.” His voice sounded tight. Did he regret the marriage?
Fixing a smile on her face, she clinked her glass with his, but when his cell phone rang again, she noticed he didn’t take a drink before answering it. Twisting her gaze away, she focused her tear-filled eyes out the window. This was not what she had hoped for.
***
“Herr Steller, gut to see you.” The doorman opened the entrance to the prestigious Erste Tag resort in Munich Germany.
Jonathan nodded and cast a glance at Emma. Her weary plodding and mute expression told him she hadn’t slept much on the flight over. He had snoozed the entire time in the Steller jet. Wrapping his arm around her, he guided her through the crowded foyer. By the pain in her green eyes at the wedding, she had probably wanted him to stay by her side the whole time, but how could he explain how much he needed to keep his emotions under control? Before his older brother died…and his wedding day was canceled… he had never been afraid of anything. But now that his father had demoted him to charity director at the family business, that same fear, of somehow these events were his fault, had come back to grip him.
Emma stumbled and he slowed his stride to hold her closer to his side. She had made a strikingly beautiful bri
de. Her figure in that white sheath dress took his breath away. He’d never intended on being so drawn to her appearance or her caring nature. He feared he'd get caught up in the moment and say something tender. But that wasn’t part of their agreement.
The resort’s lobby bustled with people. Jonathan savored the cosmopolitan atmosphere of different languages and dress of varied people all mixed together. It was good to be back in the hometown of his grandparents.
He shot a glance at Emma. Did she enjoy the Alpine ambiance? By the dark circles under her eyes, she was at the end of her ski pass. Wrapping his arm tighter around her waist, he determined to make it up to her. Here, away from his family, his work, difficult reminders of the past, they would have fun, get to know one another. Surely, after a while, an amicable relationship could be established and his infatuation with her would cease.
Several tourists lined up at the reception desk. As it was the first Saturday of Oktoberfest, bellhops scurried back and forth, and in the background, a German folk song played.
“Guten Abend, Herr and Frau Steller.” Fredrick Bonheit, the silver haired manager of the resort escorted them into his office. “Good to see you again, Herr Steller. Your family was just here, but I haven’t seen you in a couple of years.”
“Work keeps me very busy.”
Emma wilted onto a chair and held her head up with her hand.
“I’m anxious to get upstairs. My wife is very tired.” Wife? A jolt of reality hit him. He was a married man.
“Hearty congratulations. Let me check you in myself.” But Fredrick frowned as he typed on his computer. “Herr Steller, there’s some confusion. I don’t have you arriving until tomorrow.”
“Impossible. I booked our trip myself—” Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck. “My mother changed the date of the wedding.” He directed his gaze at Emma, whose vacant stare told him she was past exhaustion. “Surely you have another suite available.”
The manager fixed his worried gaze on his computer screen. “We’re booked. Oktoberfest is our busiest time of the year.”
A British Bride by Agreement Page 5