A British Bride by Agreement

by Stenzel, Therese

“They tricked me into signing a couple of forms. I wasn’t meant to be part of the deal but somehow I am. But this is the last time, I swear it.”

  Emma rubbed her forehead. “I won’t let you get hurt, but if I do this you’ve got to promise me you won’t get mixed up in their business ever again.”

  “Of course. So you’ll send it? Today? Tomorrow?”

  Frustration clenched her jaw. She never thought for all the tea in Yorkshire she’d get mired in her parent’s illegal lifestyle again. She pressed her eyes shut. Oh, Lord, am I still the apple of Your eye?

  “You’ve got it, don’t you? I mean being a Steller and all.”

  She frowned at the panic in his voice. The only money she could think of was her decorating budget. “If I send it, it goes to your bank account, not mum and dads.”

  “Of course.”

  Emma got his bank account information and a routing number and hung up with shaking hands. Of the daft deals...

  Once she got home, she paced her family room and prayed. In the late afternoon, Adele heaved in a large package and set it on the breakfast table. “Clive gave to this to me. Says it was just delivered to the front door with your name on it.” She handed Emma an envelope. It was from Liesel Hoffmiser, with a hand written note. Thanks for all the help with ideas for my German English cookbook.

  Emma unwrapped the odd shaped package and found Liesel’s new cookbook, nestled in the center of a basket of apples. Her heart singing, Emma leaned in and smelled the crisp, tart scent of the fruit and resisted the urge to laugh aloud. Lord, how can I thank you enough for Your love?

  The next morning, feeling more sure of her decision, she called her bank to make the transaction. The banker assured her the money would be deposited in the English financial institution by the next day. All two hundred and ninety-five thousand. The money she was supposed to use to decorate with. With the exchange rate from dollars to pounds, she should be just over the one hundred and fifty thousand pounds they needed. But what would she tell Jonathan about the money?

  Her next call was to Bammerts where she canceled the German inspired artwork and alpine furniture Franz had ordered. There was now no way to pay for it.

  ***

  The sun smiled down, warming Emma all the way to her bones as the yacht skimmed over the ocean toward the Belizean island, Ambergris Caye. Occasionally, the large boat seemed to jump up with joy as it hit the waves, forcing Emma to grip the railing. She and Jonathan had flown to Belize on the Steller jet, but Jonathan wanted her to see the beautiful, blue-green ocean up close, so they charted a yacht to take them to their hotel on the island.

  Jonathan brought back a tropical fruit drink for Emma and clinked his glass with hers. “Here’s to our trip.”

  Emma smiled. It was good to see Jonathan relaxed. His blue eyes matched the color of the ocean. She held herself back from kissing him. The tangy taste of fresh squeezed orange-mango juice matched the jubilant mood filling her thoughts. She couldn’t wait to be alone with him. As he turned and looked at the view, she bit her lower lip. An ache rose in her throat. If she could only tell him how much she wanted their marriage to be more than an agreement.

  “Is this amazing?” He took her hand, pulled her closer and kissed her lips.

  Her heart melted as she pressed her lips to his. She leaned into him until their sun-heated bodies were touching.

  When he held the back of her head to pull her even close, she trembled. Was he growing to love her?

  “Mr. Steller?” A deep voice drew Jonathan away from her. The captain, in a nautical white uniform, stood near them.

  “Yes,” Jonathan answered, but he didn’t move more than an inch. Was it so he could resume kissing her?

  “Your father is on the phone.”

  Jonathan looked at her with his piercing gaze, disappointment etched into his face.

  She grinned. “Hurry back.”

  As Jonathan went down to the main cabin, Emma moved to the back of the boat to get a better view of the distant island. She had never been to a tropical country, and she couldn’t wait to stick her toes in the warm sand.

  Suddenly, the boat jumped, flinging her onto a cushioned seating bench, and spilling her drink. Emma set her glass down and tried to wipe off the juice running down her white capris. “What a dreadful mess.”

  She stood and gazed at the distant land coming into view, careful to grip the railing tighter. She could just make out palm trees. In the water rushing past, a large school of fish swam by. She leaned over to see them. The boat lurched, flinging Emma into the sea.

  ***

  The shock of the cold water sent Emma flailing as she sunk into the depths. She opened her eyes underwater, frantically gaping for any large carnivorous creatures nearby. Feeling the pressure in her chest, she kicked off her sandals and swum upward, breaking the water just before her lungs burst. She took in a deep gasping breath and searched the horizon for the boat.

  The yacht was continuing its trek toward the island, the roar of the engine growing fainter by the second.

  “Help! Help!” she yelled. Fear wrapped itself around her trembling limbs. She thrashed in the water, weighed down by her clothing. Had Jonathan not yet noticed she was gone? How could they leave her?

  She took in a deep breath and let it out. Calm down, Duckie. Just keep swimming. They’ll come back any minute. But just to be sure, she dipped her head under the water to check for sharks before she started swimming toward the boat. So far, all she saw were some eerie see-through floating creatures. With her eyes trained on the tiny blip of the boat, she began her breast stroke. Keeping her shaky arms and legs moving helped hold her fears at bay.

  Salt water splashed in her face, and she swallowed a mouthful. She stopped swimming to see if there were any boats around her, but all she could see was ocean. No one knew where she was. Would she die out here? Where was the yacht? Panic set her mind racing. She looked up at the blue sky. “Lord, help me, please.” She continued swimming, until something under the water bumped her leg.

  ***

  Jonathan handed the phone back to the first mate, picked up his drink, and headed back to Emma. He hoped to resume their very pleasurable activity—forget the agreement. Forget hiding his emotions. Forget everything up until now. He knew he loved Emma more than any other woman he had ever known. Perhaps, this trip was the time to tell her.

  He jogged up the steps and paced toward the back of the boat. Emma was gone. Her glass lay on the cushioned seat. His heart seized up. “Man overboard!”

  The boat slowed and swerved to the right. Jonathan gripped the railing as he made his way back to the captain who was heading toward him. “My wife. She’s gone.”

  “We’ll find her, sir.” The captain lifted his binoculars to his eyes.

  Jonathan pulled the binoculars off of the captain. His gaze hunted the horizon. “I can’t see her.”

  The yacht sped up so fast it flew over the water like a jet ski.

  The first mate stepped ahead of Jonathan with his own smaller binoculars in place. “I see her.”

  “Where?” Jonathan’s heart heaved in his chest as he moved to the end of the boat. He could just make out her hair, like seaweed bobbing in the ocean. My dear sweet Emma.

  As the boat slowed, the captain tossed a ring out to her.

  She was coughing, but managed grabbed the life-saving device and put it on.

  Jonathan grabbed the line and the three men pulled her on board. As she cleared the edge, she fell on top of Jonathan, gasping for breath.

  He grabbed the sides of her face to kiss her. “You scared me to death.”

  Jonathan took blankets from the captain and swathed her trembling form. He then lifted her into a sitting position and wrapped his arms around her.

  She was crying and trying to talk at the same time. “I was so scared. I was afraid you—you’d never come back. When that thing touched my foot, I thought I was going to die.”

  Jonathan brushed her hair from her forehea
d and kissed her there, wanting to absorb her fears into his own body. How could he have left her on her alone on the deck? He should have insisted she come down to the main deck with him. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” He murmured into her ear. “I’ll never let you get hurt again.”

  She pulled back and touched her face. A red welt was forming on her right cheek all the way up to her lips. “This is throbbing.”

  Jonathan stared at the swelling wound. Jellyfish. “Captain!”

  “Yes, Mr. Steller.”

  “My wife has been stung by a jellyfish. Do you have any medicine on board?”

  The first mate rushed up, opening a bottle of water. “We could use this to rinse it off. That might help.”

  Jonathan grabbed his arm as he was about to pour the liquid on his wife’s face. “That is the worst thing you can do. Do you have any vinegar or shaving cream?”

  “I do.” The captain scooted back to the lower deck.

  Emma touched her red lips. “They’re swelling and burning.”

  “I’m so sorry, darling.” Jonathan dabbed at the sea water still clinging to her face. When he finished smoothing the shaving cream on the wound, the yacht slowed down as it approached the dock. “We’ll get a doctor to you right away.”

  Emma moaned as he helped her stand. “I feel sick, quite dizzy…” She started to press her hand to her chest. “My heart is—I can’t breathe,” she gasped. “I can’t breathe,” and then she wilted in his arms.

  Jonathan shook her. Was she dead?

  ***

  Emma woke up to the pungent odor of ammonia

  “She’s coming around.” A dark-skinned man hovered over her.

  Emma blinked and tried to sit up.

  “Em, take it easy. I’m here. You’re all right.” Jonathan eased her back on the pillow.

  She scrunched her brow. “Where did I go?” Her lips hurt when she talked.

  The dark- skinned man leaned over and gave her a shot in the arm. “As we like to say in Belize, sometimes it is the jellyfish who welcomes you first.” He stood and tucked away the syringe. “That antibiotic should help with the pain, but here are some pain pills and more antibiotics. Call me if her symptoms worsen.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Larubeya,” said Jonathan.

  Emma touched her lips as she watched Jonathan walk the doctor to the door. They were grossly swollen. She must look like a freak. So much for a romantic trip.

  “How are you feeling?” Jonathan knelt down beside her.

  “Like a side show at a fair.”

  He shook his head. “When you fainted, I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m sorry for causing so much trouble on your trip.”

  Jonathan leaned in and kissed her forehead.

  She closed her eyes and savored the feel of his soft lips touching her. An ache rose in her chest. This was going to be the time when she told him how much she cared about him. How she didn’t want an agreement between them, but a real marriage.

  Jonathan stood and looked at his watch. “Nick should be here any minute.”

  Emma frowned. “Nick? Why is he coming?”

  “I can’t leave you alone like this when I go to work.”

  “But I can take care of myself.”

  “I want him to watch over you.”

  She sat up. “Like I’m some child?”

  “Why are you so upset about Nick? Has he done something?”

  She fell silent, unable to quite put her finger on it, but she didn't trust Jonathan’s assistant. Nick had some agenda, something he was working towards that made his actions and his words seem insincere. Besides, this trip was meant to be just the two of them. “No, it’s just that I was looking forward to—” Jonathan had never said anything to make her believe he cared for her beyond a wife by agreement. He had been most solicitous on the yacht, and on their honeymoon, deeply caring, but all those days in St. Louis, when she barely saw him…

  Jonathan was still staring at her, expecting a reply.

  “I was looking forward to going shopping with you.”

  He frowned for a minute. “Well, Nick can take care of you until you feel better.”

  Her heart tumbled down until it felt bruised and torn.

  “We will have to sleep together.” He sighed. “Nick will take the other bedroom and the third room is for the cook and the housekeeper.”

  “Oh.” Emma tried not to smile, because it hurt her lips, but deep inside her hope rose.

  “Can I help you to bed?”

  Her eyes widened. Was he in a hurry? But a quick look outside at the darkened sky made her realize it was already night time. Her heart beat sped up. If only he would crawl into bed and wrap his arms around her.

  As Jonathan helped her stand, searing pain radiated through her face and lips. “Ooo.”

  “Pain?”

  She nodded.

  Once she got in bed, he gave her an antibiotic pill, but after five minutes she felt herself melting into the sheets. Drat. A sleeping pill.

  ***

  The annoying buzz of someone talking woke Emma. She tried to ignore it by flipping over on her stomach, but as soon her cheek hit the sheets, pain seared through her.

  “Breakfast in bed, Mrs. Steller.”

  Emma looked up to a maid in a crisp grey and white uniform setting a tray on the night stand. Nick was peering over her shoulder. She looked around the teak, canopy bed but Jonathan was gone. “Thank you,” she slurred her words. Emma seized the cup of tea, her morning must-have. But she when she went to sip it, it merely dribbled the liquid down her front.

  Nick sat on the bed. “Wants some help with that?”

  “No.” Emma frowned.

  Nick whipped out a straw. “Maybe this?”

  She swallowed at the sight of it. She was dying for the taste of her morning cup of tea. Snatching the straw, she sucked down the hot beverage. After a few more sips, she began to feel more herself. “I must admit, you have saved me.”

  “I love to help ladies in distress.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  Nick hid a laugh behind his hand. “Oh, my, that is pretty bad.”

  “What?”

  “Your lips are the size of tires.”

  Emma scooted to the edge of the bed and begrudgingly accepted Nick’s help to the dresser mirror. She gasped at what she saw. She looked like a clown. And the swollen red stripe on her face didn’t help either. “I am going back to bed.”

  She slept on and off most of the day, having to, at one point, ask Nick for more pain medicine. She had to admit, she was glad he was here. He was very gentle with her and very caring.

  Around four in the afternoon, the desire for more tea got her out of bed. As she paced to the kitchen, she noticed Nick going through Jonathan’s files. Had Jonathan asked him to find something? Then Nick pulled out his phone and took pictures of some of the paperwork.

  “What are you doing?” Emma gripped the doorframe.

  Nick looked up, tucking his phone in his pocket. “How are you feeling? Do you want me to get you more tea? I know how you English babes love it.”

  “Why were you taking pictures of Jonathan’s paperwork?”

  “Oh, that, just some business stuff.”

  “For who?”

  “Jonathan, of course. I do all kinds of things for him. We’re family. Practically brothers. We’ve both risen in this company together. I don’t think you need to question the things you see me working on. I do everything to make sure Jonathan looks good for his father.” He flashed his brilliant smile. “Look,” he came around and led her to the kitchen table. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll make you something to eat and I can tell you all about it.”

  Emma glanced around the spacious kitchen. “Where is the cook?”

  “I sent her to the market. There was no pasta, no way to make spaghetti sauce, bruschetta, carbonara.”

  Emma tried to smile at the Italian lilt to Nick’s voice, but it hurt her cheek. Why did she q
uestion him? He was obviously a very a smart fellow, and was taking good care of her. But she must be sure to tell Jonathan about the picture taking.

  Nick set the kettle to boil. “What are you hungry for?”

  Emma touched her lips. “Shrinking potion.”

  “That is going to take days to heal.” He leaned in to look more closely and grimaced.

  Emma slouched, all hopes for romance with Jonathan ruined.

  “Cheer up, Jonathan called me and said he’d be back by dinner.”

  “Did he ask about me?”

  “No, I’m sorry, he didn’t. You have to realize that to Jonathan work will always come first. It is what is expected of him by our family. You need to be content with just being with him when he has time for you. Which will become less and less as he chases his dream to climb the Steller ladder.”

  She nodded and moved to sit in a chair in front of a vast window with a full ocean view. She sat mesmerized by ocean waves crashing and pulling back. That was exactly how her heart felt. Full of mounting hope and then those hopes would be dashed over and over. He would never truly turn around, never want this marriage to work like she did. But hadn’t she prayed? Hadn’t she believed that the Lord was leading her to do this? A weight of stone welled up in her chest. How could God lead her into another loveless marriage?

  Tears streamed down both sides of her cheeks, but they burned when they hit her swollen lips. She dabbed her sleeve at them to dry them off. Why would such a handsome, confident man want her anyway? She had been financial disaster from the start. Now she was an ugly mess. An unwanted ugly mess.

  Nick handed her a cup of tea, and set down plate of cookies and a small bowl of yogurt. “I didn’t know how hungry you would be.” Concern etched his tone.

  She looked up at his handsome face. She had judged him wrongly. “Thank you, Nick. You make an excellent nurse. And I’m sure you do just as well working for Jonathan.”

  “I’m happy to help. I know marrying a Steller has brought an incredible change to your life. So, if I can assist you in any way, I want to.” He patted her shoulder. “I’m glad you trust me.”

  Emma blinked. The note of sincerity in his voice surprised her. “Yes…”

  “Everything I do, is to make him look good to Uncle Hans.”