Authors: Gunfighter's Bride
“Thank you,” he said, speaking to Douglas and Susan as if they’d
included him in their good wishes.
The muscles in Douglas’s jaw knotted visibly, his expression tight
and hard. Susan’s eyes skittered uneasily from her husband to the newlyweds and
then settled, almost gratefully, on the minister, who’d been watching the small
scene with the expression of a hungry dog presented with a particularly juicy
bone.
“Thank you so much, Reverend,” she said. Her smile held no sign of
the strain she must be feeling, and it struck Lila, not for the first time,
that Susan was remarkably well suited to being the wife of a man with political
aspirations.
“I’m always pleased to be able to be of service to this family,”
Reverend Carpenter said.
Particularly when he was lucky enough to find himself in the midst
of the juiciest scandal to hit Beaton since the blacksmith’s wife ran off with
a drummer who’d come through town selling musical instruments two years ago,
Lila thought cynically.
“You’re welcome to stay for supper, if you’d like,” Susan said,
making the obligatory gesture.
“I wouldn’t wish to intrude,” he demurred, his eyes gleaming at
the thought of a fine meal to go with the additional information he was sure to
gather.
The thought of spending yet more time under the reverend’s avid
gaze made Lila want to weep. Unconsciously she leaned more heavily into
Bishop’s supporting hold, feeling as if she’d reached the end of her rope.
“It wouldn’t be an intrusion,” Susan said in a tone that struggled
to conceal her dismay.
“Well, then...” The minister all but rubbed his hands together in
anticipation.
Bishop spoke up unexpectedly. “It’s been a long day and I think my
wife is too tired to entertain guests.”
Douglas, Susan, and Reverend Carpenter all gaped at him with
varying degrees of surprise. It was hard to say what had surprised them
most—the blatant arrogance of him rescinding Susan’s invitation or hearing him
refer to Lila as his wife. He returned their looks calmly. Lila knew she should
be offended by his presumption, but all she felt was gratitude.
The minister’s face crumpled like a child denied a favorite piece
of candy. “But—”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Susan said, looking tom between annoyance
at Bishop’s presumption and relief at the thought of getting rid of the
minister. “It really
has
been a very long day, hasn’t it?”
Lila nodded and forced herself to smile at the reverend. “Perhaps
another time, Reverend,” she murmured, knowing it would never happen. No doubt
Bishop planned to return West as soon as possible. It would take her a few days
to pack, but then she’d be leaving her childhood home forever. She’d gladly
have dined with the nosy minister if it meant that she didn’t have to leave.
But since it wouldn’t change anything, it was a relief to see him go.
***
An hour later, Lila was starting to wonder if it might have been a
good idea for Reverend Carpenter to have stayed. Surely nothing could be worse
than the taut atmosphere that reigned at dinner. Tense silence was the rule,
broken by brief intervals of stiff conversation, initiated by Susan and
participated in, with varying degrees of cooperation, by the other diners.
Years of social training forced Lila to try to support the façade of normalcy
her sister-in-law was attempting to maintain. But no amount of social grace
could gloss over the incredible awkwardness of the situation.
Though the staff served with their usual faultless elegance, Lila
was acutely aware of the curious glances being cast at her and Bishop. She knew
the servants, like everyone else in Beaton, were full of speculation about the
abrupt change in the wedding plans. Arrangements of early spring flowers
covered the sideboards and the center of the long polished table, remnants of
the reception that had been planned to celebrate her wedding to Logan.
Staring at the fragile grace of an anemone, Lila tried to imagine
how she’d feel if it were Logan sitting across the table from her now. She’d
known Logan all her life, yet his image was blurred and out of focus. She
closed her eyes, trying to picture him, but instead of golden blond hair and
warm brown eyes, she kept seeing black hair, worn too long, a leaner, harder
face, and eyes the pale blue of a winter sky and just as cold. are you feeling
all right, lilac Susan’s concerned question broke her concentration. Lila
opened her eyes and found herself looking directly into Bishop’s cool gaze.
Bishop McKenzie. Her husband. Lila rubbed her thumb over the thick
gold wedding ring he’d slipped on her finger. The plain band felt as heavy as
iron shackles. In a sense it
was
a shackle―one that bound her to
the man sitting across from her. It was the symbol of ties meant to last a
lifetime.
“Please excuse me.” Lila rose abruptly, her chair scraping across
the polished floor in a way that would have made her mother wince. She left the
room without waiting for a response, her skirts belling out behind her with the
speed of her exit.
She left behind a silence thick enough to cut. Susan half rose
from her chair as if to go after her, then glanced from her husband to Bishop
and sank back down again.
Seeing her look and reading the worry in her eyes, Bishop almost
smiled. She was obviously concerned about what might happen if he and Douglas
were left alone. She was probably right to worry. He didn’t doubt that there
was nothing Douglas would like more than a chance to go for his throat. Not
that he could blame him.
Bishop set his heavy linen napkin beside his barely touched plate.
“I don’t see much point in dragging this out. Unless one of you is dying for my
company, I think I’ll take a walk. When no one said anything, Bishop’s mouth
twisted in a wry half smile. He pushed his chair back and rose.
Susan spoke as he reached the door into the hallway. "Take a
coat, Bishop. It’s only April and the nights are cold."
Bishop turned to look at her, his smile gentling. Susan reminded him
of his mother. She was a born caretaker, with a heart too soft and gentle for
this world. "I'll do that.”
“I hope the bastard freezes to death,” Douglas snarled as they
heard the front door close behind Bishop.
“Watch your language, Douglas But there was no heat behind the
reminder. Susan rose from the table. "You'd best get used to the idea that
Bishop is Lila’s husband now.”
“I should have killed him.” Douglas stood up, pushing his chair
back with a barely controlled violence that nearly tipped it over. He threw his
napkin down on the table. “I should have let Logan kill him in front of the
whole blasted church.”
“I understand your anger but he’s a member of the family now, like
it or not.”
“I don’t!”
“And you’d best learn to accept that,” Susan finished, ignoring
his interruption.
“He seduced my sister,” Douglas reminded her angrily.
“Lila is a grown woman, and has a will that would be the envy of
many men. If Bishop seduced her, it was not without her consent. Now, don’t
bite my head off,” she added, raising one hand to forestall his furious
response. “I’m not implying Lila is a woman of easy virtue, but even virtuous
women sometimes make less than virtuous choices. Have you forgotten that we
anticipated our own wedding night?”
Douglas stared at her, shocked by the blunt reminder. “That was
different,” he muttered. owe were planning to marry
"So we were.” Susan crossed the short distance between them
and set one small hand on his sleeve, tilting her head back to look up into his
eyes. “I’m not saying that what they did was right. But it can’t be changed,
and we—all of shave to live with the consequences. Just don’t forget that Lila
is your sister. And Bishop is your friend."
“Was,”
he corrected harshly.
“And now he’s your brother by marriage. If you don’t want to lose
touch with your sister—not to mention your niece or nephew—you’re going to have
to accept that what’s done is done.”
“Bishop said the same thing this afternoon at the church.”
“And he was quite right. Now I’m going to go see how Lila is.”
Susan rose on her toes to brush a kiss across his mouth. “Think about what I’ve
said, darling.”
She didn’t wait for a reply but turned and left, leaving Douglas
alone in the empty dining room.
***
Lila sat on the edge of a slipper chair upholstered in soft green
silk. She’d fled the dining room in search of a place where she could forget
the events of the day, at least for a little while. But it seemed she was not
going to be allowed to forget, even for a moment. The first thing she’d seen
when she entered her bedroom was a black portmanteau sitting at the foot of her
bed. She’d stared at the unfamiliar case a moment before it struck her whose it
was.
Bishop’s. It was Bishop’s case and the servants had put it in her
room because he was now her husband and they assumed he’d be sharing her room.
Her bed. The thought was so shocking that she’d all but staggered across the
room to sink down on the edge of the graceful chair. She’d been sitting there
ever since, bolt upright, her eyes glued to the case as if it contained a bomb
set to explode if she looked away.
She hadn’t given any thought to where Bishop would be spending the
night. There hadn’t been any time to think about it. When Logan had offered to
marry her and claim her child as his own, he’d promised her that he’d make no
demands. Bishop had made no such promises.
Despite the fire that burned on the hearth less than half a dozen
feet away, Lila shivered. Surely Bishop didn’t expect this to be a
real
wedding night. But she couldn’t think of a single reason why he shouldn’t. Not
only were they married, but he had reason to know that she was no shrinking
virgin. And he might also have reason to believe that she would not be
completely averse to sharing his bed. She shivered again, remembering the
abandoned response his touch had wrung from her three months ago. It frightened
her to think that he might be able to draw that same response from her again.
The quiet knock on the door made her jump halfway out of her skin.
She shot to her feet as if the smooth upholstery had suddenly caught fire. If
it was Bishop...
“Lila? May I come in?” The sound of Susan’s voice made Lila feel
light-headed with relief. She didn’t have to face her new husband. Yet. It was
an effort to steady her voice enough to call permission for her sister-in-law
to enter.
“I wanted to see if you were feeling all right,” Susan said as she
shut the door behind herself. Her eyes mirrored the concern in her voice.
“I’m fine,” Lila told her. What was one more lie after having
stood before a man of God, promising to love a man she neither knew nor liked?
“I was concerned when you left the table so abruptly. We all
were.”
“All?” Lila’s dark brows rose. “Douglas can barely stand to look
at me, and I suspect Bishop would be quite content to find I’d expired of some
miraculously speedy illness.”
“That’s not true. Your brother needs a little time to get used to
the situation. He’ll come around. He loves you.”
“Unlike my new husband.”
A look of distress flitted across Susan’s pretty features. “I know
things are starting out... awkwardly. But, given time, I know the two of you
will come to care for each other.”
“Is that why you wrote to tell him about the baby? Because you
thought we’d come to care for each other?” Lila asked, remembering what Bishop
had told her about Susan contacting him.
Susan flushed but she met Lila’s eyes without flinching. “I did
what I thought was right.”
“Did it occur to you that I already had things arranged quite
satisfactorily? That I didn’t need you to decide what was right?”
“Bishop had a right to know about his child,” Susan said calmly.
“How did you know it was Bishop’s child?” Lila demanded. “How did
you know there was a child at all, for that matter?”
“I have eight younger brothers and sisters. I’ve seen the symptoms
often enough to recognize them. As to how I knew it was Bishop’s, I saw what
was happening between the two of you three months ago. I saw you leave the
ballroom not long after he did and when he left so abruptly the next morning, I
had my suspicions.”
“Suspicions?” Lila questioned incredulously. “You wrote to tell
Bishop I was carrying his child just because you thought something
might
have happened between us? What if you’d been wrong?”
“I had more than suspicions.” Susan’s eyes shifted away, focusing
on a delicate Meissan figure that stood on the mantelpiece. “After Bishop left
that morning, I went to his room and found your maid stripping the sheets from
his bed.”
“Oh.” It was Lila’s turn to flush. She’d sent her maid to get the
sheets so that she could wash them herself or burn them, if necessary—whatever
had to be done to conceal the evidence of her lost virginity.
“Mary wouldn’t say anything but it wasn’t hard to guess what had
happened. When I realized that you were with child, it seemed clear that Bishop
was responsible.”