Emmeline's Exile (The Alphabet Mail-Order Brides Book 5)

by Josephine Blake

  He approached Emmeline cautiously, and she peered owlishly down at him from her tree branch. “I do not care for animals,” she said unnecessarily, and Lawson grinned.

  “I can see that,” Lawson repressed a laugh as his new wife glared at him. He glanced over his shoulder. Joe, the massive mastiff he owned, and Smudge, the heeler, had both come to sit beside Cooper on the grass, heads cocked to the side in curiosity. “They won’t hurt you,” he assured her. “They’re very well trained.”

  Emmeline looked uncertain, so Lawson held out his hands to her. “Won’t you come down from there?”

  Slowly, as though she were a Jack tucked inside of a box, his wife unraveled her limbs and reached for him. This was the first time Lawson had taken a woman into his arms in a very long time. As she slid down the length of his body, his breath caught in his chest. She was warm. Warmer than he had imagined she would be, and her frame was supple in his hands. He felt each of her ribs pressing into his fingers as she exhaled and her feet landed on the ground. Would she think him impertinent if he stood there and held her to him for just a moment more?

  He sighed as he let her go. “Come here. Come meet them. They were just excited to meet you, that’s all, see?” Lawson was experiencing an overwhelming desire to reach for her again, to draw her to him, but he had to get a handle on himself. If he behaved like a brute, it may just ruin his marriage, and the last thing he wanted was to push her away.

  She lingered behind him as they approached the three dogs. “Stay,” he said to them, and they all sat up, watching him with wide, trusting eyes.

  “See? This is Joe,” he pointed to the mastiff, who sniffled enthusiastically toward Emmeline, but stayed in place, his tail thumping wildly. “He’s not as fierce as he looks,” Lawson chuckled. “Just don’t take away his bone at dinner time, he hates that.”

  Instead of appearing amused, Emmeline’s eyes widened. She slid further behind him still, as though keen to keep a blockade of sorts between herself and the dogs.

  Lawson cleared his throat uncomfortably. Why hadn’t he thought to mention to her that he had pets? Not all people enjoy dogs. He should have put them away before bringing her home. “This naughty one is Cooper,” he persevered. “He’s a herding animal.” Lawson scruffed the top of the collie’s head affectionately. “That’s why he chased you. He didn’t mean anything by it, didja, Coop?” He glanced over his shoulder at her. She hadn’t moved. “Er… Maybe we’ll save the introductions for another time,” he said doubtfully. “They can stay in the yard tonight. They like to sleep under the porch.”

  An expression of relief flitted over Emmeline’s drawn face and she nodded, still holding tightly to his hand.

  “Why didn’t you mention… in your correspondence… about the dogs?” she said the last word on a shudder, as though she had never been so appalled in all her life.

  “Ahh, you see…” he’d been afraid of this. He hesitated, moving around behind her to keep the comfortable barrier between her and the animals as they moved back up the porch. “The thing is…” he sighed and shoved his hip into the front door. It swung open and she followed him into the house. “I didn’t exactly…” he froze on the threshold, looking around.

  “Oh, this is wonderful!”

  The room was not as he had left it. Someone had been in to tidy after he had gone for the wedding. The house was in an unusually sparkling state. Lawson wasn’t a slob by any means. He’d cleaned the entire house from top to bottom when he’d been there this afternoon, but there were a few finer touches he’d missed. Someone—and he had a very shrewd idea who—had set a vase of flowers on his coffee table and lit a pleasantly crackling fire in the grate.

  There were a fair amount of candles glimmering from several of the kitchen surfaces, the table tops of which were shining in the flickering light as though they’d never been scrubbed properly before. He grinned, and reminded himself to thank Mrs. Fields for the hundredth time, for all that she had done. He’d have to order the woman a very large box of chocolates from the mercantile.

  Emmeline had strolled into the room and unwound her scarf, looking around. Her expression displayed a sort of vague surprise. Lawson watched her anxiously, waiting for her to speak again.

  His house smelled like an odd combination of roses and candle wax, and yet it was somehow… not unpleasant. It balanced well with the odd, feminine feeling his new wife seemed to have carried into the space with her.

  “Did you do all this?” She had bent low to examine the flowers on the coffee table.

  Lawson rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, embarrassed, once more, of the truth. “No,” he said. “It had to have been Mrs. Fields.”

  “Lue?”

  “Lue.”

  “She’s a lovely person. She reminds me a bit of Wiggie.”

  “Wiggie?”

  Emmeline glanced up at him, frowning. “I wrote to you about her, remember? She runs the foundling home that I used to teach at. The one I grew up in.”

  Lawson sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “I have to tell you something.”

  His new wife straightened up, regarding him warily. At least, he thought she was looking at him. Her eyes seemed strangely out of focus again. “Go on,” she whispered. “What is it?”

  Lawson strolled into the kitchen and pulled a glass from the cabinet beside the wash basin. Even here, things seemed to wink pleasantly at him. It looked as though his dishware had all been polished.

  He poured a cool stream of water from the pitcher on the counter and turned to face Emmeline, bracing his palms on the counter behind him. He took a deep breath. “It was not I who wrote for you to come to Wyoming,” Lawson admitted, shamefaced. The words all came out in a rush.

  As he had expected, Emmeline’s face paled slightly. “But you are Lawson Aldridge, are you not?”

  He nodded. “Yes, but I am afraid that it was not Lawson Aldridge you have been corresponding with.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Lawson frowned down at his cup, shifting his feet, and wondered if he ought to tell her that he had not thought to go through with the marriage until that very morning. “I’m afraid that I have… a very nosy elder brother,” he said at last, darting an uneasy glance up at his wife to see how this news would be received. “He recently took it upon himself to send for a mail-order bride to come here and be my wife. For some reason… he thought it important that Buffalo Creek had someone to teach the youngsters of the town.”

  Emmeline sank down on the sofa beside the coffee table. “So… you did not send for me?”

  Lawson shook his head.

  “Why did you marry me?”

  He winced. He’d hoped this point would come up later, if at all. “I don’t really know how to answer that,” he murmured. He was watching her, but she was not looking at him. She was beautiful there, illuminated in the firelight. It glimmered off her blonde hair, making her look as though she’d been bathed in gold. Lawson was prepared for her to grouse at him. More than prepared to hear the truth… that he should have told her what had happened before they had been married.

  Instead, he heard two soft, exquisite words fall from her lovely lips. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Lawson felt his weight drop back into his heels. He hadn’t realized how tense his body had been as he waited for her reaction. Thank you. She had thanked him for marrying her? “What for?”

  Emmeline made her way over to the place where he was standing in the kitchen, her white dress swishing from side to side. She came so close to him, that he actually took a step away from her, and then she smiled, and her hazel eyes fixated on his own. “Thank you for not turning me away. I no longer have a home to return to. I need to be here. I need to teach. Once I set up the school, Wiggie will send the money for the grant. I can purchase any supplies I need, and perhaps… we could…” but she blushed and turned away, arousing Lawson’s curiosity.

  “We could?”

  She was smiling, but he wa
s disappointed to see the tears in her eyes. “It is only that I have a bit of a passion for the pianoforte,” she whispered. “I wondered if we might be able to afford one, and perhaps some musical instruments for the children… once the grant money comes through. I don’t want to be frivolous,” she added hurriedly. “I intend to spend Wiggie’s money wisely… It is only that my fingers are itching…”

  Lawson looked down at her hands, searching for a rash or a sign of redness. What did she mean? “Itching?” he asked.

  She held her hands up in front of her eyes. “Since I was twelve years old, I have played the piano every day. Every day,” she reiterated. “It has been nearly two weeks since I have left New York, and I desperately wish to play again.”

  Lawson smiled. “I’m sure there is a way to make sure that happens soon,” he said. “I should very much like to hear you play, especially if you have practiced each day since you were twelve.”

  Emmeline beamed, and opened her mouth to respond, but a great yawn proceeded her words.

  “Sleep!” Lawson declared, undeceived. “You must be exhausted. I’ll bring some water into the next room so you can have a bath.” Without thinking, he bent forward and pressed his lips to hers. He hadn’t considered it. The action felt natural to him, as easy as taking his next breath, but as he turned to exit out the back door, he felt his lips burn with the feel of hers against them.

  Chapter Five

  Emmeline was utterly furious! That was the second time! The second time that he had caught her off her guard and stolen a kiss from her lips! How dare him! Did he think she just handed those things out willy-nilly?

  Her lips actually felt as though they were aching from the simple brush of his mouth on hers. She wanted to march right after him and demand he kiss her properly, but that was not a very lady-like thing to do now, was it? Perhaps she should just sit down on that rather enticing settee right before that deliciously warm fire. Perhaps she should lay her exhausted head down on that pillow there and close her eyes for just… a… single… moment…

  Emmeline awoke to a gentle sway and a soft, male groan as her body slipped onto a mattress that creaked in protest. Her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up quickly when they spotted an unfamiliar blur shifting mere inches away on her left. She struck out as fear gripped her, and Lawson let out a startled noise of surprise.

  “Oh! Oh, Lawson. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”

  “Didn’t see me, woman?” her new husband grumbled, rubbing the top of his head. “I’m a foot away from you, and all the lamps are lit.”

  Emmeline sat up a bit straighter. “It’s only that I—I forgot myself,” she whispered feebly, hoping this would pacify him, but she could feel his eyes on her, even if she could not see them.

  “I came back in and you were asleep,” he said. “Thought you might be too tired for a bath.”

  She swung her legs off the bed. “No. Please. I would like one, I’m sorry.”

  As she stood, she expected him to move away, but he did not. Neither of them shifted for a long moment. Her chest was mere inches from his, and his breathing had altered. Emmeline was blatantly aware of the overt maleness of Lawson Aldridge, and how his eyes sought hers.

  His hand came to rest under her chin and she felt his fingers exerting gentle pressure there, urging her to look up into his face. She was relieved to be able to make out each one of his handsome features, smiling down at her, and not just a darkened blur. Would he kiss her again? Did she want him to?

  “You needn’t apologize, Emmeline,” he whispered. “Come, while the bath is hot,” and he took her hand and led her into the next room.

  The warm bath water was the most welcome thing in the whole entire world at that moment. It was a sweet relief to slip out of the cumbersome silk wedding gown that Noelle Brittler had lent her and loosen the stays that were done up just a bit too tight. She flung these over the top of the louvered screen that Lawson had erected before the door and sunk into the warm suds with a sigh of contentment.

  A soft knock on the door made her look around and sink to her chin in the bubbles. Surely, he did not intend to enter the room with her unclothed? And then she reminded herself that Lawson was her husband. Her body was his right, if he should choose, and a sudden wave of fear sank into her veins like ice. “Yes?” she asked hesitantly.

  She heard the door open a crack and then Lawson’s voice spoke from the hall. “I’ve… er… made up a bed for myself on the sofa,” he said. The discomfort in his voice made her fears evaporate in an instant. “If you need anything… in the night.”

  For a moment, there was nothing but the sounds of the crackling fire in the other room and the gentle lapping of the bath water against the metal sides of the tub as Emmeline’s whole body relaxed. Then she whispered: “Thank you, Lawson.”

  He shut the door softly and Emmeline listened to the sounds of her husband making himself ready for bed in the next room. For some, unfathomable reason, a hot trickle of disappointment was making its way through her insides. What had she expected? The entirety of the town of Buffalo Creek seemed overjoyed at the thought that their pharmacist had found a bride. That was odd enough in itself, but when you took into account the fact that the pastor’s wife approved of the man and the fact that he was intending to spend their wedding night on a set of sofa cushions… It truly did seem as though Emmeline had married a gentleman.

  Lawson Aldridge was a gentleman who had treated her with nothing but kindness, and she had deceived him. What would he do when he found out about her coming blindness? Would he abandon her? If he were not her husband in truth when he discovered it… would he ask to have the marriage annulled?

  These agitating thoughts swirled around her exhausted mind until the bath water turned cold. She shivered as she washed herself and stepped out of the tub. Lawson had hung a towel from a hook beside the door for her. Emmeline glanced around for her luggage as she stepped out into the hall. He had said that someone had taken it to the house.

  She darted across the squeaking floorboards and into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. The light from each lamp illuminated the shadowy blurs of the room. It smelled pleasantly of pine, like Lawson himself, but the sparse furniture were all strangely hulking forms to her. She clasped the towel to her bosom and moved hesitantly into the room. It wasn’t large, she noted as she ran one hand over the post at the foot of the bed, feeling for the mattress. She sank onto it, still staring around, struggling to make sense of the vague impressions around her. There, in the corner, that was a wash stand. She could see the round, white shape of a bowl and pitcher atop it. In the opposite corner was a tall dresser. This must be where Lawson kept his clothes. She turned on the spot, eyeing the glow of two lamps, one on either side of the bed. The nightstands were there. She wondered idly what side of the bed Lawson liked to sleep on.

  On the other side of the room was something that made her squint. It looked to be a tall coatrack. Then there was another dresser beside it, wider and shorter than the first, on which sat another vase of flowers. She could smell them, though her vision presented her with nothing more than indecipherable lumps of color. There was a mirror hanging on the wall above it.

  With a sigh, Emmeline stood up and made her way to the edges of the room, feeling right into the corners, but her luggage was no where to be found. She frowned. Perhaps it had been set in the front room where her husband now slept. Lawson would have, of course, expected her to see it.

  She sank down on the bed with another sigh. The room was cold now, and she was shivering, her hair still damp from the bath. She felt along the edge of the mattress, and stopped when she felt a round lump beneath the coverlet. She prodded at it, and then smiled. Lawson had placed a warming pan between the sheets for her. A gentleman.

  She shivered again.

  What a predicament. She could not very well stroll out into the main room wrapped in nothing but a towel, but she could not just sit there and wait for Lawson to discover her in such
a state when the sun came up in the morning.

  She sighed. There was little choice but to wake him.

  Emmeline moved hesitantly back to the bedroom door and opened it a crack. There was no noise from the front room. She glanced down to the other end of the darkened hallway and then toward the flickering firelight at the other end. A creeping sensation swept up her spine. She could see blurred shapes in the light, but in the darkness of the hall, there was no way for her to tell what lay beyond. She would not be able to see if something or someone was standing there in the darkness.

  This had been one of her biggest fears. In the school, Emmeline had known every nook and cranny, every crevice. She knew the building like the back of her hand, but this house—though it was small—it was unknown and rather terrifying.

  Don’t be such a ninny.

  She cleared her throat with a small sound like chalk snapping. “Lawson?” There was no response from the front room. Emmeline hesitated and then stepped back out into the hall. “Lawson?” She glanced over her shoulder into the darkness. Had he gone out into the yard with his dogs?

  Squaring her shoulders, she took two more steps and peered around the wall that led into the kitchen and sitting area, squinting around at the unfamiliar shapes in the room. It appeared to be vacant, and… there! Next to the door. That large burgundy rectangle looked like her travel trunk!

  Emmeline glanced around and when nothing shifted but the flickering flames of the fire, she decided Lawson must indeed be outside. She took a deep breath and flew across the room to her trunk, still clutching the towel to her chest.

  It was much too heavy for her to lift on her own, but she fumbled with the latches, threw open the lid and withdrew her shift, night gown and day clothes for the morning. She had packed it all perfectly in order, tightly, so that it wouldn’t shift around much during the journey. She thanked the Lord above for her foresight too, because as she seized a fresh pair of stockings, the door handle to the backdoor in the kitchen gave a rattle.