Three Weddings and a Kiss

  “Why would ye be wantin’ ta buy the wench?” For once, Cooper’s voice was mellow enough to be tolerable. “Ye got an itch ta ’ide her away from yer wife an’ take yer ease wit’ her when ye’ve got nothin’ better to do?”

  “For shame, you cod-faced lout!” Mrs. Brewster exclaimed in outrage. “Mr. Birmingham would never dream of doing such a thing!”

  Jeff had no wish to destroy the woman’s unswerving confidence in him by admitting that he was extremely interested in the girl, at least enough to want to rescue her from this oaf and to see her gowned in clothes as fine as those that Brandon was wont to buy for Heather. The dull brown, threadbare dress Raelynn presently wore did little justice to her uncommon beauty.

  “What is the price you’ll take for her?” Jeff asked tersely. “Name it, and let this matter be done. The whole town is here to observe this event.”

  Cooper Frye scratched his bristly chin reflectively and flicked a glance across the wall of faces that was pressing in close around them. “Well now,” he drawled, wondering if his intended lie was too extravagant for the other’s purse. He decided to leave some room for haggling. “Gustav Fridrich was willing ta pay a bloody five hundred o’ yer Yankee dollars ta have her. I’ve got to have at least that much and maybe a hundred more ta be able ta face that ornery German and tell him I’ve sold the chit ta someone else.”

  Jeff made sure his offer was far more generous than the stranger could have expected. “Seven hundred fifty should give you enough courage to do the deed.”

  Cooper’s mottled tongue flicked across his wide, gaping mouth as he gawked at the other man. “Seven hundred fifty?” he repeated, staggered by the thought of such an extravagant sum. “For the girl here?”

  “We have witnesses.” Jeff stated the obvious, nodding toward the ever-growing crowd. “Most of these people know me and can attest that my word is true.”

  “I can vouch for his integrity better than anyone here,” a nearby clothier heartily declared, pushing his tall, broad-shouldered bulk through the mass of onlookers until he faced Cooper Frye. “In fact, if Mr. Birmingham isn’t presently carrying such a sum on his person, I’d be only too happy to send one of the clerks into my shop here and fetch it for him. So if I were you, Cooper Frye, I’d listen carefully to what my friend has to say. He has other friends in this crowd who are equally loyal and who’ll be glad to report this event to any interested parties.”

  “Thank you, Farrell,” Jeff murmured. He accepted the man’s offer of a temporary loan and, after receiving a leather pouch filled with gold coins from his friend, returned his attention to Cooper Frye and counted out the necessary amount. “Now, Mr. Frye, I’d advise you to heed my words carefully. Before receiving this pouch, you must sign a bill of receipt pledging that you’ll never interfere with me or the girl again. If you should do so, then you’ll forfeit what you get here today, either by returning it to the last coin or, if you cannot pay, hiring yourself out to me as a servant until the sum is repaid in full. Do you understand?”

  “Where’s the receipt?” Cooper inquired bluntly.

  Jeff accepted a quill from Farrell, who had been astute enough to foresee the need, and quickly rewrote a lading bill to conform to the requirements of the contract. “Sign at the bottom if you’re able to write your name,” he instructed Cooper. “Otherwise, make your mark.”

  “I can write me name,” the huge man boasted, swaggering a bit before the crowd, but when he applied the quill to the parchment, he bent over the top of a nearby cask and painstakingly scratched out his name in simple letters.

  Rolling up the contract, he handed it back to Jeff, who scanned it quickly, then delivered the bag of coins.

  “Remember what you’ve promised,” Jeff cautioned. “If you bother us, you’ll forfeit the money.”

  “I heard ye the first time,” Cooper answered sharply. Then, with a leering smirk, he faced Raelynn, who stood in stoic silence before him. “Now that ye’ll be takin’ yerself a rich lover, I don’t suppose I’ll be seein’ ye ’round where I’ll be.”

  Raelynn’s eyes flared with fiery rage at his affront; then, as she took command of her temper, they narrowed into cold, icy shards that pierced him where he stood. “’Twill gratify my most fervent wish, Cooper Fyre, if I never, ever see you again as long as I may live.”

  “What’s this now?” Cooper queried in feigned surprise. “Ye’ll not be showin’ ol’ Uncle Coop a bit o’ fondness afore we part? After all I’ve done for ye?”

  “Be on your way,” Jeff advised the man curtly. “If Raelynn hasn’t had enough of your antics, then I certainly have.”

  “I’m goin’! I’m goin’!” Cooper assured him. Chortling to himself, he turned and, tossing the bag of coins in his hand, strolled back across the street from whence he had come.

  Raelynn breathed a sigh of relief at his going, but her feeling of contentment was brief, to say the least. Though she was not necessarily averse to the idea of being owned by Mr. Birmingham, she was certainly not blind to the dangers of such a relationship. His unparalleled good looks and easy charm could pose a dire threat to a virtuous maid who had no knowledge of men. Whether they were roués or gallant gentlemen, her experience with them was seriously lacking. For that reason she could not be content with the current situation. Despite what Cooper Frye thought, she was not made of ice.

  Stepping beside Jeff, she gazed up at his lean profile as he watched the departing figure of Cooper Frye, and mentally affirmed her admiration of all that she saw. Her heart fluttered unnaturally as the elusive, manly scent of his cologne wafted through her senses, making her realize just how crucial it was for her to establish a code of conduct between them before they were ever alone together. He affected her so strongly that she could not be sure she would be able to stand steadfast and stoically deny him that which he might ask of her.

  “Mr. Birmingham”—her voice quavered oddly as she spoke—“’tis most urgent that I speak with you in private.”

  Any satisfaction Jeff derived from seeing the last of Cooper Frye dwindled rapidly as he looked down into the smudged and troubled face of Raelynn Barrett. That was when the full import of his actions hit him broadside. Had he taken her to an inn and shared a room with her for all the world to see, he could not have done more to destroy her reputation than what he had just accomplished by buying her. If the thought hadn’t taken root on its own, then Cooper’s taunt had certainly set the seed in fertile soil. Before nightfall, word would spread throughout the area that he had bought himself a young woman, one who was likely destined to become his mistress. How could he have been so blind as not to see what crime he was committing against her? Usually he was far more perceptive than that. What could he possibly do now to restore her honor?

  Coming to himself, he realized that Mrs. Brewster was offering the use of her shop. “And perhaps you’d like some tea while you talk.”

  The milliner hurried back to her shop, scooping up the hatbox and Jeff’s beaver as she went. Ushering them in, she led the way to her small apartment in the back, where she made tea as the couple settled at her small table and faced each other rather apprehensively across its surface. Raelynn waited for the woman to excuse herself, but in her haste to set out her best teapot, cups, and a variety of sweetcakes on porcelain plates, Thelma completely forgot the girl’s request for privacy.

  Jeff also felt the need to talk with Raelynn alone and drew Thelma aside to ask a favor of her, having settled his mind on the only option open to him. “As you can see for yourself, Mrs. Brewster, the girl is in desperate need of some clothes to wear. Would it be too much of an imposition if I asked you to go back to Farrell’s and see what he has available in the way of women’s clothing that would fit Raelynn—perhaps some gowns and other essentials that were ordered but never picked up?”

  “I’d be delighted to, Mr. Jeffrey, but how shall I know what you want to spend for her? Farrell’s seamstresses are the best in the area, and I know some of their gowns can be
quite elaborate and costly.”

  “If you’re unsure about anything, ask Farrell to help you. He knows me well enough to be able to lend you whatever advice you might need. Otherwise, Mrs. Brewster, I will entrust the decisions to you and your excellent taste.”

  “Should I bring the clothes back here, then?”

  “I rode my stallion into town today, so ask Farrell to have the packages loaded in a hired livery, then send the driver here to await our departure to Oakley.”

  Jeff escorted the milliner to the front door and watched as she scurried across the street. Then he made his way once more to her private quarters. In his brief absence, Raelynn had washed her face and smoothed her hair, presenting a neater demeanor as she poured him a cup of tea. Watching him from beneath long silky lashes, she daintily sipped from her own cup.

  “You’re no doubt curious about what I have in mind,” Jeff began forthrightly.

  Raelynn inclined her head in a slow nod. “I have no idea whether you are married or single, Mr. Birmingham, so you can perhaps understand that I am completely bemused as to what I should expect. Will your wire be my mistress? Or are you my one and only master?”

  “I do not consider myself your master, Raelynn,” he said with a smile. “And you’ll have no mistress, either. I am a bachelor.”

  “I hope you’ll understand, sir, if I tell you that that fact gives me cause to worry,” Raelynn admitted candidly. “I have only just met you, and yet suddenly I find myself your solitary possession. I dare not allow myself to think what your intentions may be. To be sure, sir, though you are neatly attired and handsome beyond a mere girl’s dreams, I am no more disposed toward becoming your plaything than I was willing to accept Gustav Fridrich’s plans for me.”

  “’Tis difficult to tell you what has been on my mind since I first saw you,” Jeff replied haltingly. “Perhaps I was too intrigued by your beauty to realize that I was acting irrationally, inadvertently doing you more harm than good. I fear you might think me a fool, Raelynn, but I feel as if I’ve known you the whole of my adult life.…”

  Raelynn eyed him curiously. “I would never think you a fool, Mr. Birmingham.”

  “I’m a man in my early thirties, and I’ve come this far through life never having been tempted to ask for a lady’s hand. You may think my proposal completely outrageous, especially since we’ve just met, but I can think of no better solution to disarm the gossips who’ll be wont to talk about this incident for weeks or even months to come.”

  Though perplexed, Raelynn grew increasingly more attentive as the moments sped by. “I am listening, sir.”

  “You have need of a protector, Raelynn, and I am in want of a wife to still the wagging tongues that have given me no peace for several years now. They are set to clacking without provocation, even going so far as to spread the sordid rumor that I yearn after my brother’s wife. ’Tis a lie I’ve longed to serve quick death to, but not at the cost of squandering my freedom by taking to wife some woman I cannot tolerate. I know you are young…”

  “Ten and nine, to be exact, sir,” she stated softly.

  “Very young,” he mumbled pensively behind his cup as he raised it to take a sip.

  Raelynn was hanging onto his every word and did not allow his reply to pass without acknowledgment. “That depends, sir, on what you have in mind. I’m far too old to be considered a child, and if ’tis your desire to become my guardian, I would then advise you to consider the gossips and their wagging tongues. In England, I knew several ladies younger than I who had wed doddering ancients, but they were soon widowed and, much to their delight, bequeathed enough wealth to marry whom they would. A pair of them selected young, handsome pups who had to be mothered like children, and my friends soon became exasperated with them. As for me, sir, I would rather wed one who is mature enough to know his own mind and yet young enough to give me a brood of children and be with me ’til I am ancient, too.”

  It was Jeff’s turn to stare at her in awe. “Raelynn, do you truly comprehend what I am suggesting?”

  She was reluctant to answer for fear she might be wrong. “And what is that, sir? Tell me outright, so I may not be mistaken.”

  “I am proposing that we be married posthaste,” he said simply.

  A smile softly curved her lips. “Then I was not mistaken, sir. And though we’ve only just met, I am willing to accept your offer of marriage…if you might lend some thought that we are, after all, strangers and need some time to come to know each other ere we share a bed together as man and wife.”

  It was some hours later when Jeff Birmingham and his bride-to-be arrived at Oakley. It seemed he had not long to wait before a carriage came smartly up the lane, and a moment later, Kingston, the butler, showed his brother and sister-in-law into the drawing room where Jeff was awaiting them. Considering all the townspeople who’d witnessed his purchase of Raelynn, he’d known the news would reach Brandon at the lumber mill before traveling on to Harthaven and Heather, and that there would be no need to send a request for their presence, for they’d be concerned enough to come at once. During the long ride home, he had assured Raelynn of his honorable intentions, but upon seeing Heather’s face, he wondered if he might have to repeat them to her as well.

  His housekeeper, Cora, had answered his summons and now stood in the doorway, awaiting his instructions. Her wide grin told him that the black woman was taking everything in and enjoying the whole affair.

  Raelynn had retreated several steps to stand near Jeff, as if for protection, and watched the two newcomers hesitantly. It was not hard for Raelynn to discern that this was the sister-in-law whom the gossips had avowed Jeff was in love with, for she was beautiful beyond belief. Still, the fact that Heather was at least six months along with child should have deterred such talk.

  Heather’s heart went out to the young woman who, in spite of her shabby garments, held herself with a subdued and natural grace. She seemed wary of them, as if doubtful of being graciously received, which Heather could totally understand, having experienced similar qualms when Brandon brought her home from England to meet his friends and family.

  The expression of curiosity that Brandon bestowed upon his brother motivated Jeff to lend his immediate attention to Raelynn, giving the elder no opportunity to take sweet revenge for all the needling Jeff had once done. When he had learned that Brandon had been forced to marry Heather after mistaking her for a woman of the streets, Jeff had been unrelenting in his efforts to get his sibling to realize what a great treasure he had unwittingly stumbled onto in Heather. The greatest obstacle had been Brandon’s pride, but since he had already fallen head over heels in love with his wife, it had only been a matter of time before Brandon came around to conceding that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  Jeff hurried on with the introductions. “Raelynn, this is my brother, Brandon, and his wife, Heather. Brandon…Heather…this is Raelynn Barrett.”

  “Your pardon,” Raelynn murmured demurely, sensing the other woman’s discomfiture. “My presence here must confound you. I would have stayed in Charleston, but Mr. Birmingham insisted that I come with him and meet his family. No doubt you have much to discuss and need some privacy.”

  “I think we do,” Heather responded gently, greatly heartened by the softly spoken and refined eloquence of the young woman. At least Jeff had not been taken in by some unschooled hoyden, though that possibility had seemed remote.

  Jeff gestured to Cora. “Show our guest to the blue room upstairs and help her bathe and dress for dinner. Kingston has already taken several packages upstairs, and you’ll find everything she’ll need in them. Another guest will be arriving shortly, and he’ll want to meet her as soon as possible.”

  The black woman gave him a toothy grin. “Yo’ means yo’ want her back here lickety-split, Mr. Jeff?”

  “Faster than that, Cora,” he urged with more truth than humor, drawing a gleeful cackle from the servant.

  Beckoning for Raelynn to follo
w, Cora hurried into the hall, chattering all the while as she led the Englishwoman upstairs. “Mr. Jeff’s done turned this big ol’ house into a showplace. Jes’ wait ’til yo’ see this here bedroom I’m takin’ yo’ to.”

  In the absence of Raelynn, the three family members faced one another in indecision. Feeling a need to mentally organize his planned announcement before airing it, Jeff crossed the room and, taking a decanter and a crystal snifter from an imported cabinet, poured a small draught of brandy into the glass. Joining the couple again, he handed the snifter to Brandon.

  “News of my purchase traveled fast,” Jeff commented. “I was sure I’d have to wait at least another half hour before I saw your face.”

  Brandon savored a tiny sip of the brew as he returned his brother’s grin. “I was at the lumber mill when I heard about the incident in town. I thought it best to return to Harthaven before someone took a notion to ride out and tell Heather.”

  Heather was, in fact, near tears as she settled onto the settee. “Jeff, how could you take advantage of that poor girl’s dilemma and buy her like a slave off a block? Raelynn will not be able to hold up her head for all the slander that is bound to be said about her. Despite your good intentions in saving her from her uncle’s greedy plans, you’ve become as much a culprit by bringing her into your house without a proper chaperon.”

  Jeff came and squatted down in front of her. Gathering her slender hands in his, he spoke as gently as he could. “My dearest Tory,” he murmured, using his pet name for her, “will you trust me enough to believe that I would not knowingly bring shame to any lady or any member of my family?”

  “Jeff, you’ve always been so sensible,” she assured him through the threat of new tears, “but I’m afraid in this case you’ve not thought of the consequences your gallantry may have invited.”