Frontier Wife Read online

  David and Jamie wore dress jackets over their waistcoats; their trousers were black, and they had white neckties and gloves.

  “You look pretty.” Jamie reached over and patted Tommy’s cheek.

  “Thank you. You’re very handsome too, both my men are.”

  David snorted and Jamie chuckled. Adam insisted the boy be in the official wedding party, and he’d barely been able to contain his excitement at such a grown up honor.

  Yes, to give him his due, Adam knew how to handle Jamie. No wonder the child worshipped the ground he walked on.

  When they arrived, the church was packed to capacity. Tommy hovered in the doorway. Anxious dread washed over her. It took all her courage not to turn tail and run for her life.

  “Nervous?” David asked.

  “No, not at all.” She trembled within, petrified.

  Adam stared straight ahead, his eyes fixed on a point just above the Minister’s shoulder.

  “The bridesmaid is here,” the Reverend said with a benign smile.

  As the organ music pealed out, everyone watched the bridal party. Adam turned his head and the breath jammed in his throat. Tommy looked beautiful, almost ethereal as she waited near the doorway. He felt a sudden, strange pain tugging at his heart. Remorse for having forced her into marriage? Damn it all, why did he keep tying himself in knots over Tommy Lindsay? They both agreed about the suitability of the arrangement. He wanted sons. She needed financial security for herself and Jamie.

  Tommy caught a glimpse of Adam’s face as he turned towards her. He gave her an encouraging smile as she started walking down the aisle. Her heart lurched and her legs almost buckled. What a splendid specimen of manhood, so proud and princely, like a Roman gladiator primed and ready for his date with destiny.

  As she stood quivering beside him she wondered if anyone else noticed. The ceremony commenced. After the minister blessed the wedding ring, Adam slipped it on to her trembling finger.

  “You did me proud,” he whispered, his breath warm against her cheek. He gave his vows clearly, confidently. Tommy’s voice came out so low only those at the front of the church could hear.

  When they adjourned to the vestry, Fiona stayed in the church to distribute “favors,” which took the form of a white rosebud, mingled with lily of the valley.

  They signed the register, his hand steady as a rock, hers trembling like a leaf in the wind. Tommy Lindsay was now Mrs. Adam Munro. He put the marriage certificate in his pocket, and slipped her arm through his, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. The bridal party proceeded down the carpeted aisle to the sounds of the organ. As Tommy glanced around, she saw posies of white rosebuds tied to the end of each pew.

  A liveried coachman and groom drove the bridal couple away from the church in an elegant landau, drawn by chestnut horses with rosettes in their bridles.

  “Well, Mrs. Munro, everything went off rather well.” Adam grinned.

  “It was a farce. I don’t know how you had the gall, standing up in church, making false vows in front of God. To love and honor, to cherish; it’s a wonder lightning didn’t strike you dead.”

  “How do you know they were false?” His intense gaze caused her heart to beat a rapid tattoo against her chest wall. “Smile at the people.” He raised his hand to acknowledge several onlookers in the main street. Tommy did as he asked, easier than arguing with him. She felt too overwrought to do anything else at the moment; besides, she needed to save her strength for later. Her mouth went dry every time she thought about what Adam would expect from her tonight. Like most young women she dreamed of having a fairytale wedding—but not like this. Not when the groom was only interested in breeding from his wife.

  “Don’t look so tragic.” He gently ran a long, tanned finger across her lips.

  She forced herself not to rub her cheek against his hand and let him know how his touch affected her.

  “You made an exquisite bride. Every red-blooded man in the church envied me.”

  “As long as you think you’ll get your money’s worth.” She gave a bitter smile.

  “I’ll know after tonight, whether I’ve got my money’s worth or not.” He picked up her hand and drew it to his lips. “I don’t think I’ll be disappointed.”

  When she snatched her hand away, he burst out laughing.

  Arrogant devil, she wanted to slap the smirk off his face.

  At the hotel, the bridal table reposed at the back of the dining room, while tables for fifty or more guests lined each wall.

  “You must have worked hard getting this organized at such short notice, Adam,” Fiona exclaimed, not even trying to keep the awe out of her voice.

  “You can get anything done if you’re prepared to pay for it,” Tommy said tartly. His grip on her arm tightened, warning her to be careful what she said; but he favored Fiona with one of his devastating smiles.

  They stood together under an archway covered in white flowers, to receive their guests. All the gentry had been invited, including Sophia and her parents. Mr. and Mrs. Bothroyd attended under sufferance apparently. Even they didn’t dare offend Adam Munro. Though cold and aloof they tried to disguise their animosity. Not Sophia, she gave them both a poisonous glare and refused to shake hands.

  She looked elegant in deep-green silk. The pendant Adam bought off the bank manager hung around her neck, and Tommy knew she wore it on purpose.

  After Sophia flounced off, Adam turned to Tommy. “I tried to get the pendant back for you, but Sophia can be a vindictive little minx.”

  “It’s water under the bridge.” Surprised by this, she tried to sound nonchalant. She wouldn’t wear it for a king’s ransom now. Not after it hung around that creature’s neck.

  The wedding cake had “Tommy and Adam” written across the top, the words surrounded by true lover’s knots. It took the traditional form of three tiers. One to be cut at the reception, another cut and sent to absent friends, as for the third—she trembled. Tradition dictated it be saved for the first baby’s christening.

  “We’ll be cutting the third tier before twelve months is out,” Adam predicted with confidence. He wished to God he could take Tommy home now so he could assuage the desperate need that had kept him awake for days. He had gone to a lot of trouble and expense trying to arrange a memorable wedding for her. She acted more like a mourner at a funeral than a happy bride.

  The wedding luncheon started almost immediately. Turkey braised à la française, roast chicken, pigeon pie with meringues a la Crème d Marasquin and Belgrave jellies. No expense had been spared. She picked at her food, while Adam ate heartily, and why wouldn’t he? Everything went just as he planned.

  Fiona and David made eyes at each other, Jamie chattered away to Adam, while she let her mind drift. Her mouth ached from smiling and she wondered whether people realized how forced it was.

  Adam had kept his word about the feed and water for Warrior. David agreed to let his mares roam loose near the dam, knowing they would not wander too far away from the water.

  After their meal they circulated amongst their guests once more, and Tommy felt like a hypocrite accepting their good wishes. When she found herself standing alone, Sophia minced up to her.

  “You deliberately let Adam compromise you that night at the Cavendish place. I suppose he made you with child and is doing the honorable thing?” She said it loud enough for several other people to overhear.

  “Listen here, you ugly, vicious witch.” Tommy clenched her hands to stop herself from doing her rival an injury.

  Adam strolled up and heard the last few words. He savaged Tommy with just one look. “You’ll have to forgive my wife, she’s overwrought. The excitement of marrying me must be too much for her.”

  With a triumphant smile Sophia glided away.

  “I won’t have you hurling abuse at my friends.”

  “Friends! That-that creature accused me of being with child.”

  “Hopefully you will be after tonight.” He picked up her hand and drew it
to his lips in a great display of affection just as the Commissioner of Police walked by.

  Finally, Adam decided they should leave. Tommy didn’t know where she got the strength to sit through the speeches and congratulations without running out of the hotel’s private dining room. One decent thing came out of the wedding. It took Jamie's mind off losing Touser. After crying for a couple of nights he seemed to have accepted the loss of his friend.

  When she watched the tender glances David directed at Fiona, she felt envious and sad, because Adam would never look at her in such a way.

  Adam helped her into the buggy with an impersonal hand under one elbow, and lifted Jamie up next to her without speaking. Her head pounded. A dull ache throbbed at the back of her eyes, a combination of heat and nervous exhaustion.

  Jamie chattered away quite unconcerned Adam only answered him now and again—and her not at all.

  “Touser died and went to heaven,” Jamie announced suddenly.

  “What?”

  “Touser fell asleep and died of old age,” Tommy cut in, gesticulating behind Jamie's back for Adam not to ask too many questions.

  He nodded. “Well, he did have an interesting, long life for a dog, and he was lucky having you for a friend.”

  “That's what Tommy told me. We gave him a funeral and he has a grave, a cross and everything in the pine plantation. He’s got his own special Christmas tree now and we’ll never cut it down.”

  “I’ll find you another dog, if you like,” Adam offered.

  “No, if I can't have Touser, I don't want another dog.”

  With every mile they drove closer to Adam’s home, the more nervous she became. Abruptly, the thought popped into Tommy’s aching head that she could tell Adam she was “indisposed.” She squirmed in her seat just thinking about broaching such a delicate matter with him. No decent, well brought-up young lady should even contemplate such a shocking thing. It might gain her an extra week before she had to submit to him, though. Could she do it? What was worse, broaching such a taboo subject with him or putting up with his lust? It wouldn’t be lust if he loved her. She would welcome him with open arms.

  “I’m going to enjoy begetting my son.” He lowered his voice so Jamie would not hear. “My seed planted in you will produce only the best.”

  “Go to hell,” she whispered. I’m behaving like a fishwife.

  If her appalling behavior was meant to upset him, it failed because he just laughed and started up a conversation with Jamie.

  They arrived at the homestead. She couldn’t think of it as home now, probably never would. Adam encircled her waist with his hands as he lifted her down.

  “Are you unwell?” He lowered his voice and it washed over her like a gentle caress. If she deluded herself into believing he cared, the consequences could be ruinous.

  She started trembling, so he swung her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing, and strode into the house. As she rested her cheek against his chest she could feel the strong, regular beat of his heart. Here was her chance to tell him of her “indisposition” but she found when it came to uttering the words, she couldn’t.

  “What’s wrong with Tommy?” A frightened Jamie clutched at her hand.

  “There’s nothing wrong with her,” Adam reassured with a smile. “It’s tradition for a groom to carry his bride across the threshold of her new home.”

  “What’s the matter with you?” he asked once Jamie got out of earshot.

  “I've got a frightful headache.”

  “Too much excitement; have a lie down before dinner.”

  He still held her in his arms. Down the hallway he strode, passing several closed doors until he came to one standing ajar. He shoved it open with his foot, and they entered the bedroom.

  Jamie followed them. When Adam stood her up near the bed, he rushed over and clutched her hand, his eyes showing a fear he valiantly tried to hide.

  “Are you sick, Tommy?”

  “I’m just a little tired, too excited about getting married,” she lied. “If I have a rest I'll soon feel better again.”

  “Jamie, see Mrs. Rogers, tell her to bring Tommy some tea.”

  “Have a nice rest, it will make you better.” Jamie reached up and patted her cheek with a small, tanned hand.

  “Thank you, I know it will.”

  “Jamie.” Adam’s voice stopped him in the doorway. “This room belongs to Tommy and me now; you aren’t to come in here unless I specifically say so. Do you understand?”

  “He’s only a baby,” she protested.

  “Stay out of this. He must learn to respect our privacy. You do understand, don’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “Good, well run off and see Mrs. Rogers about Tommy’s tea. I’ll meet you in the kitchen where we can both have a drink. I’ve got something special to show you.”

  Jamie started out of the room then dashed back to plant several enthusiastic kisses all over her face. “Have a nice rest.”

  As soon as Jamie scuttled off, Adam reached out to undo the bodice of her gown.

  “No.” She caught hold of his hand and his skin felt warm to her touch.

  His mouth tightened. “You'll be more comfortable with it off.” Ignoring her protests, he unbuttoned the bodice and slid the gown down over her shoulders. He sucked in his breath when he saw the top half of her breasts peeping out over her lacy camisole.

  He turned back the bedclothes and laid her on a cool, silky sheet.

  Mrs. Rogers brought in the tea.

  After she drank her tea, Tommy fell asleep.

  ****

  Adam’s gentle shaking roused her. “Dinner will be served soon.” His warm breath fanned her face as he leaned over her. He was now wearing dark trousers with a white evening shirt. “I always dress for dinner. Are you recovered?” He brushed his fingertips across her forehead.

  “Yes, thank you.” She had a strange, inexplicable urge to touch his freshly shaved cheek. Was she mad?

  “You have about fifteen minutes.”

  Once he left, she slid off the bed and had a quick wash, before slipping into a cream taffeta gown with a scarf drapery. As she tidied her hair she glanced around the bedroom. It was papered in a floral bouquet, set against a muted striped background.

  A huge cedar wardrobe had richly inlaid side panels and a center mirror. The dressing table and matching washstand were topped with pure white marble. A silk brocaded easy chair matched the claret color carpet. White lace curtains fluttered at the open window.

  The brass bed had a Swiss lace counterpane; everything looked tasteful, expensive and chosen with care.

  She stepped into the hallway. Many wealthy people relegated their children to the nursery for meals. Some only saw them once a day after they were freshly scrubbed from the bath. She didn’t believe in this, because of the unorthodox way her father brought her up, and she would fight tooth and nail for Jamie to eat with them.

  Finding the dining room more by instinct than anything else, her heart leapt. Both Adam and Jamie waited for her. This room measured at least twenty feet by thirty feet in size, with an impressive black marble fireplace and ornamental over mantel at one end.

  Bell pulls on either side of the fireplace were in the form of heavy tassels. A mahogany buffet polished to show the rich grain of the wood held testimonial plates and silver ware. She couldn’t fault Adam’s home or his furnishings.

  The oval table matched the dinner wagon set up near the doorway. A magnificent twelve-branch chandelier, with button-like prism drops, and floral etched shades, lit up the room.

  Adam pulled out a chair for her, and after sitting down she ran her hand over the pristine white tablecloth. The silver cutlery and rose patterned, bone china dinner service complimented each other.

  A striking house, exquisite furniture, a ruggedly handsome husband and future children, why couldn’t she be happy with that? Most women would be. Not her though. Crying for the moon maybe, but she wanted more—Adam’s love. If she had
that she wouldn’t mind living in a tent.

  Their meal arrived, an aromatic clear beef consommé followed by roast suckling pig, applesauce, roast vegetables and green peas. This was followed in a leisurely fashion by blackberry pie and cream.

  They retired to the drawing room to drink their tea. It was after eight o'clock by this time, and Jamie started to nod off.

  “Time for bed.” She took him by the hand.

  “Goodnight, Adam.” Jamie stifled a yawn.

  “Goodnight, son,” he said kindly. “Sleep well.”

  Tommy’s heart gave a painful lurch because Adam already treated Jamie as his own child. If only he would look on her as something more than a brood mare for the sons he wanted.

  Jamie's room was three doors away from the main bedroom, furnished with a bedstead with hand-painted animal artwork on the oval convex. There was a cedar dressing table and matching wardrobe. Had Adam slept in this room as a child? What would he have been like? She closed her eyes and visualized a sturdy child with tanned limbs, black curls and eyes as gray as storm-tossed seas.

  She listened to Jamie’s heart rendering, simple prayers. Just “God bless Tommy, God bless Adam and God bless David, and I hope you like it in heaven, Touser.”

  She kissed him goodnight before returning to the now empty drawing room. Glancing around, she spotted double glass doors leading outside.

  Adam leaned with his arms resting on the verandah rail, staring out into the darkness. Trees whispered in the gentle breeze. She watched him for a moment, wondering whether he was oblivious to her presence or whether he just preferred to ignore her.

  “I feel rather weary. I might go to bed now.”

  “All right, I'll be with you in a little while.” He didn't even bother turning around.

  “Couldn't we wait, I mean…” She bit her lip.

  “No, you gave me your word, I expect you to keep it.”

  She opened her mouth to plead, but realizing it would be futile, turned to go back inside.