Even today, that moment still didn't seem real. How they forced him to marry a beautiful woman because he rescued her, saved her from certain death or injury.
The old man threw back his head and laughed. "Remind me not to take you gambling. That is pretty bad luck, son."
"You're telling me," he said, still angry her mother insisted they marry. Though after seeing her in the tub last night, he was a very lucky man. Still they had a long road ahead of them, and he was beginning to like her sharp wit and strong-willed nature.
"Funny thing is I overheard her mother and her arguing in the library over her not flirting with me. She told her mother, if I was as wealthy as the king of England she still wouldn't want to marry me." Shaking his head, he laughed. "That is when she decided to crawl out the window to escape and fell right into my arms. Now we're married."
In a comfortable silence, they rode along in the cool brisk wind.
"Women can say the strangest things. It took me several years to learn that about your grandmother,” he said shaking his head. "So I gather this marriage was not because you love her."
"No," he said. "In fact, she wants us to have it annulled."
At the time, the thought of getting an annulment seemed like such a great idea, but now, now Warren was beginning to have doubts. No, he still didn't want to be married, but could he keep his hands off her long enough for them to end this marriage. The woman had invaded his bed and now even his dreams were being assailed.
His grandfather jerked his head toward him. "How are you going to do that?"
"Well, we haven't..."
"Oh," his grandfather said with a laugh. "You've got the ring on her finger, but none of the privileges of a married man."
"Exactly," Martin said. "Meg wants to travel to New York and become a fashion designer."
"Do you want the marriage to work?"
At first, Martin had been so against them marrying. Angry and frustrated, he wanted his father to step in and defend his honor and not demand he marry this girl. Now...he no longer felt certain. No, he wasn't ready to say he loved her by any means, but there was something intriguing about her that attracted him.
And seeing her naked in the tub last night had awakened so many thoughts and desires. Still, it was more than that. In all his time in Denver, he'd never met a stronger woman than Meg.
Her strength of will and her determination and her quiet sense of humor captured him. Did he want them to stay married?
"Don't know, Grandpa. Right now, I'm not certain what I want in life. A wife was the last thing I needed. I'm hoping while I'm here, I'll get some clarity as to what I should do with my life and now what I should do about Meg.”
With his wife sharing his bed, sleeping beside him and seeing her naked, all he could think about was what he would like to do with her.
"Have you considered courting your wife? If you want the marriage to work, I'd court her. If you want it to end, that's a different set of problems."
"How can I answer that when I don't know. At first, I didn't want the marriage and now, every day I become more confused."
Glancing at his grandfather, the man nodded. "Sometimes a man needs some solitude to figure out what direction he should go. While you're here, you can help me mend some fences and work the herd. Spring calves will be soon and I need you to help me make some decisions as well."
What kind of decisions did his grandfather need assistance with? The older man had always been who he looked to for guidance, so how could he advise him? Did it have to do with his grandmother?
"What to do with the ranch after I'm gone," his grandfather said, staring him directly in the eyes. "A man doesn't last forever and I'm in my last days. Do I sell the ranch or leave it to my only grandson?"
Chapter 17
Two days later, Meg finally felt strong enough to crawl out of bed, dress, and go downstairs. This morning, Martin had dressed early and left the room before daylight. Since they arrived at Elk Ridge, their days were spent apart and their nights sharing the same bed, his arms wrapped around her, which spooked her.
Yet, it was quickly becoming her favorite part of the day.
"Grab that basket and we'll gather the eggs," the older woman said, leading the way out the door, yanking on an overcoat. "Make certain you're warm; we don't need you catching cold again."
"Yes, ma'am," Meg said, thinking Alice reminded her in some ways of her mother. Only kinder.
Walking into the bright sunshine, she gazed at the clear blue sky magnificent with no clouds dotting the horizon. "Wow," Meg exclaimed, stepping off the porch into the snow. "In the semi-darkness, I couldn't see the mountains in the backdrop or the pine trees. It's beautiful."
Bessie stopped and admired the view. "Yes, Ira found this land while I was pregnant with Ellie. We moved here the summer after she was born. We've never regretted our move and Isaac has done well with raising cattle."
Meg wished she knew Alice well enough to ask about Ellie, Martin’s mother, but she didn't think that would be appropriate. Someday, she hoped they would tell her what happened to the woman to die so young.
"In the wintertime, doesn't it get lonely?" This place was prettier than her parents’ ranch, but it seemed so desolate compared to Durango.
"Sometimes, but we go into town at least once a week if the weather permits. On Sunday, we go to church. In fact, since you're feeling better, we'll be going tomorrow."
All her life, Meg attended church, and she wanted to now. But she felt like Martin and her lied to his grandparents about their relationship. Though, she didn't think it was her place to tell his grandmother the truth. That was his responsibility.
And going to church...sleeping in the same bed, sharing a room and yet they planned to get an annulment. Attending church appeared blasphemous.
"You do attend?" his grandmother turned and asked her.
"Of course," Meg said. "My mother insisted her children attend every Sunday unless we were sick."
Sometime her sisters and she tried to fake an illness, but her mother was a shrewd woman who always sensed mutiny. When they got caught, they received extra chores for their trickery.
Entering the chicken coop, they began to scoop the eggs from the nests.
“Martin said you wanted to be a dress designer."
"Yes," she said.
"Sometimes I sew for the young women in town. I've been working on a wedding dress for a girl who is getting married next month. I'm having some problems with the cloth and the pattern. Would you mind looking at it?"
Over a week had passed since Meg touched cloth or sewed or worked on a dress. Oh, the ill-fated Valentine's Day ball gown. While the dress was stunning, she needed a new project. The thought of once again taking fabric and creating something new and unique thrilled her. Even if she had a pattern, she would put her own touches to the design.
"Of course," she said. "As soon as we go back in the house, I'll take a look at it."
"Let's finish gathering the eggs and milk poor Geranium."
Eager to return to the house, she hurried through the hen house. The excitement of working on a wedding gown filled her with happiness.
A laugh came from Meg as she stared at the animal. "The cow's name is Geranium?"
"Yes, she's named after a wildflower patch where she came into this world."
"Oh," Meg said. "Our cows names were not nearly as unusual."
"While you get the eggs, I'll milk her. Then we can work on the dress."
The barn door opened, and the two men rode in. "Hi," Meg said, gazing at how handsome her husband sat a horse. Warmth spiraled from her center down to her toes and back again. Martin Scott was a striking man who entered her life at the wrong time.
If only he had come five years from now, she would have been ready to flirt with him. Martin was quite dashing.
"What have you men been doing?" his grandmother said while Meg stood there staring.
"Spent the day riding the fence line and repairing it.
Spring is only a couple months away."
Martin swung his leg over his horse and dropped to the ground and walked toward her. For a moment, 's breath seized in her chest. When he reached her side, he looked into her eyes as warmth filled her. "What are you doing out here. Shouldn't you be inside resting."
The words demonstrated he cared about her wellbeing and that made her smile.
"No, I'm much better and I needed to do something. So I'm helping you grandmother collect the eggs."
He brushed a piece of hair away from her face. "Don't do too much. You were a pretty sick woman."
The caress of his fingers against her flesh had her tensing at the heat that exploded throughout her. What was happening between them? Never had she experienced these types of feelings and emotions toward a man. Yet her husband showed her he was concerned about her health, which made her like him even more.
"Grandpa's going to help Grandma with the cow, why don't you and I go back to the house," he said.
"All right," she said, taking his arm as they walked across the yard. "Did you tell your grandparents we plan on getting our marriage annulled?"
She needed to remind herself and him this union would never last and his grandparents needed to learn the reason for their relationship.
A sigh escaped him as he placed her hand on his arm. "Grandpa is a sharp old man. They didn't know of the marriage in advance, so he understood something was wrong. After I explained the situation to him, we decided not to say anything to Grandma just yet. Except if you said something."
How did you tell someone of the older generation that you planned to dissolve your marriage when they believed wedding vows lasted until the end of time? How could she tell Alice the truth about her grandson and her?
"No, I didn't have the heart to tell her we don't plan to stay together." With a smile, she said, "Thank you for taking such good care of me."
"Just being a good husband," he said, teasing her as they walked back inside the kitchen.
The sarcastic tone of his words let her know they both realized they were only acting as a married couple, not really living as one.
"Well, thank you," she said. "How long are we going to stay here?"
A frown creased his face. "No idea. The weather is so dangerous right now, it probably will be spring. Unless I get a hankering to leave. Nothing would draw me back to Denver. Is that all right with you?"
After the way his father acted at the ball and the way he spoke of his stepmother she had no desire to go to Denver. Yet, how could they remain in the same room for the next two months, sleeping in the same bed and still be celibate?
Especially since she was beginning to notice the smooth touch of her husband's skin. The rough texture of his beard and his soft breathing at night let her know he was by her side.
The way he curled around her when they slept, keeping her warm and the feel of him hard against her buttocks. One wrong step and they would find themselves entwined forever.
Gazing at him, a sudden urge to taste his full lips once again overcame her. They shared a kiss the night they married and suddenly she was curious to see if they tasted the same. Only this time, she wouldn't be angry or sad or upset.
Leaning toward him, she heard the door open and his grandmother say, "Oh, Martin, Meg is going to help me with one of the ladies at church, her wedding dress. The pattern has given me nothing but trouble."
A grin spread across his face like he knew what she wanted and then the moment ended. "Wonderful, I can't wait to see what she can do. Her own wedding gown was a beautiful dress."
Meg snorted. "It wasn't a wedding gown. It was a ball gown."
"Still, you were a gorgeous bride," he said.
A blush went all the way to the roots of her hair. Even on the worst night of their life, he thought her beautiful? A rush of heat gripped her chest and she smiled at him.
"That night, you weren't too bad looking yourself."
Chapter 18
From the day they arrived at the ranch, Martin had made it a habit to come to bed after Meg. Trying to give her some privacy and praying she would be asleep when he came to bed. After all, he couldn't exactly ravish a woman if she were asleep, could he?
Everyone in the house slept except for him as he steadily climbed the stairs. No glow from a lamp came from beneath the door as he quietly opened and shut the door. As he stood in the doorway, he listened. No sounds came from her side as he hurried inside and removed his shirt, shoes, and finally his pants.
For a while, he wore his clothes to bed, but that grew tiresome and he liked the freedom of crawling under the covers in only his long johns. With a sigh, he crawled into bed and lay very still.
A giggle came from her side of the bed. "You're like a nervous little mouse sneaking in here."
He'd been caught.
"You've been ill. I've been trying to keep from waking you when I came to bed."
"Well, I'm wide awake. Too much rest and not enough work. We're not supposed to be sleeping together."
If she thought he would sleep on the icy, hard floor, she was crazy. Besides, he enjoyed being next to her. The way she warmed the bed and when he became cold, he snuggled into her.
"You taking the floor?"
"No," she said.
"Neither am I," he whispered in the dark.
"How about a quilt between us?"
"How about you go to sleep and not worry about what others think."
Yes, they were flirting with fire, but he didn't care. A time might come that she would not be by his side at night. All those nights in the tent, he spent curling around her. When the annulment came through, he would be lonely and lost without her.
"Have you noticed how we're growing more accustomed to one another?"
"Yes," he said, thinking if she knew the thoughts reverberating in his head, she would be kicking him downstairs to the sofa. Seeing her naked in that bathtub had not been ideal if she wanted to keep her virginity.
Rolling over on her back, her arm bumped him.
"You're a bed hog," he told her.
"Oh really? My two sisters never complained."
So logical and practical, and somehow, he longed to rile her, not in a bad way, but in a teasing manner, hoping he would cause her to laugh. The pleasant sound of her laughter often caused him to smile.
"All the time?"
"No," she said.
"Your sisters are polite. You're a bed hog," he reiterated.
She shoved him with her hips knocking him a good inch. Again, she hit him. His body moved maybe three inches and he laughed at her. Finally, she gave him a big smack with her butt scooting him to the edge of the bed. But he rolled over on top of her causing her to shriek with giggles as he tickled her unmercifully.
Laughing and giggling, suddenly he realized he could feel her womanly curves through her nightgown. Only two thin pieces of clothing separated them. The smell of lilacs drifted to his nose and he groaned as her breasts crushed against his chest. All he could hear was their breathing, harsh and fast and loud.
With a moan, his lips came crashing down on hers. How long had he waited and wanted to do this as he caressed her mouth claiming her in a kiss he'd held back since the night they said I do.
It was a kiss of passion and desperation and longing that had built up inside him. It was a kiss that promised so much more if they weren't careful. It was a reconfirming that no matter what happened between them, a spark existed they both denied.
As desire raged through him, he had to stop or completely lose control. With a final moan, he pressed his fully aroused manhood into her center and she broke their lips apart gasping.
Just as the slat on the bed crashed to the ground, sending them plummeting to the floor.
Meg started giggling as Martin shifted off her, chuckling. "Now that's what I call a kiss."
"A bed breaking, wake up call of a kiss."
Why did this seem so right? Like this was meant to be. For the first time since college, in
her arms, he felt like this was where he belonged. Being in Meg’s arms was a safe, welcoming place.
Rising, they put the bed back together, but when they crawled back in, they didn't touch. And Martin missed the feel of her body next to his. Why was he starting to want so much more with this woman?
Chapter 19
The next morning, they traveled to Pagosa Springs to attend church. After the services ended, his grandmother introduced her to the woman whose wedding dress she worked on the day before.
“Betty, I want to introduce you to my new granddaughter-in-law. Before her marriage to my grandson, she had planned on attending seamstress design school, but once she saw him, her plans have been put on hold. Now she's helping me with your wedding dress."
Oh, if Grandmother knew the truth about her attending the school, she might choose not to tell everyone. As of now, Meg still had every intention of getting to New York, somehow.
"I worked on the material last night and wondered if you would like some seed pearls added to the skirt. It would be so easy and I can also put them on the lace on the top if you like."
There was so much more that Meg wanted to add to the design, but reminded herself this was not her wedding gown, but rather this woman's. If she were in business for herself, it would be the client's desire, not the dressmaker's.
The woman stared at her in stunned surprise. "Yes, of course, please do whatever you need. When can I come out and see it?"
Meg thought for a moment, if she spent time on it this week, she would finish the dress before next Sunday. "Why don't we bring it to church with us next week and you can try it on then we can see what adjustments we need to make."
The woman clapped her hands together. "Oh, thank you."
"Doesn't Pagosa Springs have a dress shop?" Meg asked surprised.
Her grandmother made a humph noise. "Not for the last five years. All the women in Pagosa help each other out. Unless, you and Martin decide to settle here and we could open a little boutique."
If they remained married, the idea didn't sound bad, but she still planned on getting that annulment and going to New York. The grandparents didn't know of their plans.
The Debutante's Scandal: Western Historical Romance (Debutantes of Durango Book 4) Page 6