Amelia (The Marriage Market Book 1) (6 page)

"The only things I'm going to hurt are her pride and her bare bottom as I'm spanking it cherry red. She'll learn soon enough what behavior I will and will not tolerate."

Duncan walked away shaking his head sadly.

Thankfully, Amelia was nothing like his mother, but he did see a few signs she could be stubborn. One moment she was shy and demure, and the next she could be sassy and opinionated. Already he felt something more for her than he'd expected. He found he cared what she thought of him.

It bothered him that she was worried about the physical side of marriage and he wanted to show her there could be pleasure involved. Now he lay in bed, uncomfortably hard. He could have taken her tonight, what was the difference? Soon he would have the right to avail himself of all of her charms. But he hadn't and it concerned him a little. He was usually decisive, quick to take stock of the situation and respond accordingly. For some reason, with Amelia he felt uncertain. She was lovely, everything he'd advertised for and more. And she was honest, A rare trait in a woman as far as he was concerned. Amelia told him how she felt about equal rights for women and he still sent for her. What harm could a few speeches do, or a little marching? Now he wondered how far she was willing to take it. Some men didn't take kindly to that sort of thing. Would she be foolish enough to put herself in danger, just to make her point?

Ach, there was no point in worrying about it. There were barely enough women to rally to any cause. In a few days he would make her his wife, teach her the pleasures associated with the marriage bed and head home the day after. If she had any ridiculous notions regarding her position in the chain of command, he would easily disabuse her of them. He would be the head of his household, and as long as she wasn't exposed to the kind of havoc his mother wrecked on a regular basis, he had no doubt she would be a well-behaved wife. Either well behaved or well punished, in the end the choice would be hers. It was best not to let all that love nonsense get in the way.

Alice Baker held tightly to her young daughter's hand as they carefully walked up the gangway and boarded the ship. Emotions warred within her, each vying for supremacy. Fright, exhaustion, excitement, doubt, they all wanted their piece of her, but she forced them down and took Delia to the ship's rail.

"Look at all the ships, darling. Did you ever see so many at one time before? We're having a grand adventure, aren't we?" she asked, smiling with a confidence she didn't feel. What if Mr. Henderson wasn't what he claimed to be? Yes, his picture was nice, showing a young man who appeared to be of good character. But photographs could be deceiving. Suppose the fine house he said he had turned out to be nothing but a hovel? Where would she go? What would she do? If she married him immediately upon arrival as he requested, and he turned out to be a fraud, she'd be stuck, she and Delia.

Maybe she could find a hotel for a few days and get to know him a little. She was seeing his home before the wedding. That she would insist on. She had to know she was taking Delia to a safe place. There wasn't much money left over after she paid their fare, but maybe she could take a room somewhere. She still had a small sum from the sale of her meager possessions. Oh dear.

Stop it, she ordered herself. There was no need to panic. Mr. Henderson offered much more than she could ever hope to have if she stayed in Virginia. All she was there was a widow woman with a daughter to care for. What men had been interested in her weren't the kind she wanted around her daughter. Delia needed a stable environment.

Alice couldn't abide liquor in any form. Her own husband had shown her just what it could do to a man despite his best intentions. Mr. Henderson said he didn't drink, although he did occasionally have a brandy when the weather was exceptionally harsh. That was acceptable. Brandy was nearly medicinal.

She watched more women board the ship. Apparently she and Delia weren't the only ones who were eager to get to their destination. The captain had been accommodating when she asked if they could spend the night aboard ship. They were due to set sail with the morning tide and it saved her the cost of another night at the boarding house. The apples and sandwiches she had in her bag would suffice for their evening meal and the gentle rocking of the ship would give her some indication whether she or Delia would be ill on the voyage.

A smartly dressed woman soon separated herself from three tittering girls and joined her at the rail.

"Are you sailing tomorrow?" she asked, gripping the rail tightly.

"Yes," Alice replied. "My daughter, Delia, and I are heading to Seattle. I'm Alice Baker."

"Martha Jonas," she said, offering her hand. "I'm going to Seattle too. Is your husband aboard?"

"No, I'm a widow," Alice replied, looking over the water.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to pry, Mrs. Baker," Martha apologized with a blush. "I guess I'm a little nervous. You see I'm going to meet my future husband."

"Please call me Alice. I don't think they stand much on formality out here in the west, at least not from what I've seen," Alice offered with a smile. "Where are you from, Miss Jonas, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Philadelphia. I had a dress shop there, but my prospects were pretty slim as far as getting married. You see, I've always wanted children," she continued softly, touching one of Delia's curls gently. "Well, I'm not getting any younger, so I've been told," she said with a laugh. "I believe the expression is 'long in the tooth'."

Alice studied the pretty young woman. She didn't look much over twenty as far as she could tell. The traveling outfit she wore accentuated her trim figure and was quite lovely. Her light brown hair was swept up under a stylish bonnet that made Alice's hat look very plain.

"Did you make your dress?"

"Why yes, I did," Martha replied, turning in a circle. "Do you like it?"

"It's charming. Are you going to continue your work as a seamstress once you're married? The only reason I ask is because Delia and I may need some things more suited to this weather."

"I don't really know. I think my husband is quite wealthy. He may not want me to continue working, but I don't see how making some clothes for a friend would be an issue. I hope we are going to be good friends," she said hopefully.

Alice smiled and patted Martha's hand. "It's my belief a woman can never have too many good friends, Martha. I'd like very much for you to be one of mine. I'll tell you a secret," Alice continued, lowering her voice. "I'm going to Seattle to be married, too."

"Oh, that's wonderful," Martha squealed, taking Alice's arm and giving it a squeeze. "So you'll be staying in Seattle. I feel ever so much better about things now. At least I will have someone to talk to. What is your intended's name?"

"Mr. Henderson, Clarence Henderson. He's employed as a clerk for a timber company. I hope we suit," she whispered nervously.

"I'm sure you will, you're so sweet and Delia is adorable. What man wouldn't want such a wife?" she scoffed. "I also am marrying a man affiliated with timber. Perhaps they are acquainted. Wouldn't it be wonderful if they were friends?"

"Yes, it would make everything better," Martha agreed. "What is his name?"

"Hugh Jordon. Has your fiancé mentioned him perhaps? I really know very little about him."

So this is the young woman Mr. Jordon had chosen over her, Alice thought. Well it wasn't any wonder. She was lovely and wanted children, what more could he ask for? Alice waited a moment to consider how she felt about this. Jealousy or envy would be appropriate responses given the circumstances. Mr. Henderson wrote her that the Jordons were the wealthiest family in the territory, but Alice found she didn't feel any of these emotions.

She liked Martha and was happy for her. Mr. Henderson seemed to be exactly what she wanted in a husband. As a rule, she didn't care for a calendar full of social obligations. She'd much rather be home of an evening, sitting by the fire knitting or reading to Delia. Cooking was something else she enjoyed. She didn't want a cook in her kitchen shooing her out. No, things have a way of working out for the best.

"I hope you'll be very happy," she told Martha sincerely. "My Mr. Henderson works for the Jordons so I imagine we'll see each other frequently, at least I hope so."

"Oh, so do I," Martha gushed.

"The deck seems to be filling up," Alice observed. "I had no idea there would be so many women traveling with us. Perhaps we'd better find our cabins."

"I agree. I was a bit worried about traveling on a ship with so many men, but I see that's not going to be a problem."

Working their way through the group of women, they found the steward and asked to be shown to their cabins.

"I'm afraid there has been a miscalculation, Miss. There seems to be a lot more passengers than we usually have, a lot more ladies. Would you two mind sharing a cabin?"

Martha and Alice looked at each other and smiled.

"Not at all, in fact we'd prefer it," Alice replied.

"Thank you, ma'am, that's good news indeed. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your quarters."

They followed the man below deck and down a long corridor.

"This here's the galley," he said, stopping for a moment as they peeked in a room full of tables and chairs. It's where you'll be taking you meals starting tomorrow."

Continuing on, he made a turn and walked past an open door. Martha and Alice both paused and gasped.

"Whose cabin is this?" they asked at the same time, sticking their heads in and looking around at the luxurious furnishings.

"That's the owner's cabin and the door is usually shut," he replied, ushering them on and pulling the thick oak door closed. "He sails with us now and again. In fact, he'll be boarding in the morning for this trip and word is he'll be bringing along his new bride."

"This certainly is a marrying section of the country!" Martha laughed.

"Oh yes, ma'am. It doesn't take long out here for a woman to catch herself a husband. There's a real shortage of the feminine gender in the west. In fact, if you ask me, I'd say we was transporting a bunch of them Mail Order Brides."

"You don't say," Martha drawled.

"Oh yes, I do say, I do indeed. Here we are ladies," he said, opening the door to a cabin with two wide berths. "I'll be back once I get some of the others settled to see if you need anything."

"Thank you, Mr…."

"Oh, just Charlie, ma'am. Everyone calls me Charlie."

"Well, thank you, Charlie," Alice said sweetly.

Martha broke out in giggles as soon as he closed the door.

Delia pulled on her mother's hand. "I gotta go, Ma Ma."

Alice located the chamber pot under the berth and helped her daughter on it.

"Do you really think all those women are Mail Order Brides?" she asked.

"Possibly and I'm glad we got our men before the stampede," Martha said dryly.

"Me too."

* * *

Hugh slipped his arm around Amelia's waist as they stood before Judge Phillips. She was shaking so hard the netting on her little pink hat trembled. This morning at breakfast, she seemed calm and collected, but that was before she changed into her wedding finery. For some reason, once she put on her wedding dress, she fell apart.

It was lovely and he was glad he'd thought to hire a photographer at the last minute. While not a typical wedding dress, the pink satin gown with the fitted waist suited her. He didn't like the small bustle, he preferred to have a good view of her bottom, but that was just him and the bustle was in fashion. At home he would insist she wear more natural clothing with easier access as he intended to avail himself of her charms on a regular basis. Based on her response the first night, he was certain she would come to enjoy the physical benefits of marriage. First he had to get through the wedding night.

It seemed some women were very attached to the little scrap of flesh protecting their virginity. He'd been told it wasn't unusual for certain females to cry for days. That wasn't something he was prepared to tolerate. No wife of his was going to try to make him feel guilty for claiming what was rightfully his.

He would be gentle, yet firm, but come morning there would be no doubt in her mind to whom she belonged and what was expected of her. Amelia would have the benefit of his name, protection and money. He would have a warm, willing woman in his bed to give him the sons he desired. If they got along, so much the better, but there would be no hysterics or vapors or any of the nonsense his mother pulled to get her way or his sweet wife would be sitting on a very sore hind end.

It took a moment for him to realize both Judge Phillips and Amelia were staring at him curiously.

"What? Excuse me," Hugh stammered as a blush spread over his face. Amelia apparently found it amusing.

"I asked if you take this woman to be your wedded wife," Judge Phillips repeated, scratching his gray head.

"Yes," he replied a bit too loudly. "I do."

"Do you promise to love, honor and cherish her for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," he repeated, clearing his throat and tugging at his collar.

"Amelia, do you take this man to be your wedded husband?"

"I do," she whispered.

"Do you promise to love, honor and obey him as long as you both shall live?"

Her slight hesitation was noted by both men who released identical breaths when she replied.

"I do."

Hugh smiled and stood oblivious while Judge Phillips made faces at him with an arched eyebrow, obviously waiting for something.

"What?" Hugh demanded when Amelia looked down at her bouquet and giggled.

"The ring man, the ring," the judge sighed in frustration.

"Oh." Searching through multiple pockets, Hugh finally came up with the ring he'd purchased.

"Place it on her finger and repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed."

"With this ring, I thee wed," Hugh repeated as he slipped the gold band on her finger with a huge sigh of relief.

"Then by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Hugh smiled at Amelia and tipped her face up to his with a gentle finger under her chin. His lips were soft and warm as he brushed them against her and she felt her shoulders relax.

Well, it was done. For better or worse she'd married Hugh Jordon. There was no point in worrying about it now. Judge Phillips was congratulating her new husband and signing the certificate.

"Good luck my dear," he said kindly. "Hugh here is a good man. You could have done a lot worse. I hope you'll be very happy with him, but if not, his money will make up for quite a bit," he chortled merrily.

"Thanks," Hugh said, shaking his head.

"I'm just teasing your husband, my dear. I've known Hugh since he was a boy and a finer, more honest man you'll never find. If Hugh Jordon tells you it's so, it's so."

Amelia leaned in to kiss the old man's cheek just before Hugh took her arm to lead her out of the office.

"Give my regards to your father," the judge called. "Tell him he should have let me marry Tempest when he had the chance," he said, laughing.