Amelia (The Marriage Market Book 1) (9 page)

"You poor dear," Jane said sympathetically. "To find you're married to such a cad, and far from home too, well it's a terrible thing. Even Mick would be better than this."

Three sets of eyes looked at her in stunned surprise before looking toward the kitchen.

Suddenly Amelia laughed.

"No, as bad as Hugh is, he cannot compare to that," she said. "This has to be some kind of mistake."

"What if Martha's not the only one?" Alice whispered, looking around the room. "What if all of these women think they are going to Seattle to marry your husband?"

That thought had not occurred to Amelia.

"How did you meet Mr. Jordon, dear?" Jane asked.

"With a letter much like Martha's. I answered an ad in the Matrimonial Times."

"So did I."

"I also answered an ad," Jane admitted. "But I got a letter back from Dr. Martin. In it he explained Mr. Jordon had found a bride, but if I would like to correspond, it would be acceptable to him. Once I wrote back and told him I was a trained mid-wife, he invited me out to work for him with the possibility of a more personal relationship."

"I answered Mr. Jordon's ad too," Alice confessed in a hushed whisper. "I received a reply from Mr. Henderson. He said he admired my fortitude and thought I was very brave to answer such an ad. He thought I was lovely and immediately offered marriage. It's not often you find a man willing to accept another man's child," she said, glancing at Delia. "When he sent me his picture, I decided to take a chance and accepted. We were desperate," she mouthed.

"I have two children, Alice, but I've left them with my mother until I see how things work out," Jane said sympathetically.

"I can certainly understand how we all got here," Amelia said. "The question is, what do we do now?"

"I think the first thing you should do is find out how many of these young women your husband is engaged to," Jane suggested sensibly.

"You're right," Amelia agreed, pressing a hand to her tummy. Sitting quietly for a moment, she gathered her composure and stood.

"Ladies, ladies, if I could have your attention, please." When the room quieted and all eyes turned to her, she continued. "Since we're all traveling together, I think it would be nice if we got to know each other a little bit. How many of you are planning on staying in Seattle once we reach our destination?"

"Where do ya think they're going from there, you daft girl," Mick called out. "They've come for husbands and there are plenty of single men to go around. God willing, they won't be making any return voyage on this ship."

"Oh be quiet, you old bag of wind," a small redhead yelled back as she stood. "I think it would be nice to already have a few friends when we get there. I'm Molly Muldoon and I'm planning on staying' in Seattle. I can't afford to do anything else," she said with a grin before sitting down.

Amelia gave Molly a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Molly. How many are staying in Seattle, either by choice or necessity?"

All the women in the room raised their hands.

"That's fine. I'm Amelia. Let's go around the room and introduce ourselves."

"Women!" Mick snorted before closing the shutters on the window with a bang.

"I'm Sara, and this is Lucy and Lydia. We're all from New York."

"My name is Suzanna."

"Elinor, but most people call me Ellie."

"Clara, from Baltimore."

"I'm Mary; it's nice to meet you all."

"Jane."

"Martha."

"Alice."

"I'm Charlotte and I'm from Mississippi."

"It's so very nice to meet you all," Amelia said, clutching her skirts to dry her damp hands. "I'm wondering how many of us are what they refer to as Mail Order Brides?"

Every hand went up and she swayed, feeling a little lightheaded.

"And can you tell me how many are coming at the invitation of Mr. Hugh Jordon, or H, Jordon, as he sometimes signs his name?"

When nine hands went up, Amelia fainted dead away for the first time in her life. Jane later told her she missed a hell of a brawl.

It was three days before Hugh saw his wife again. After being summoned by a frantic Charlie, he rushed to the galley where he found all hell breaking loose. Women were screaming and tables and chairs were being overturned in the scuffle. A plate shattered against the beam above his head just as he spotted Amelia surrounded by three women and a small child. Ducking flying pottery he hurried to his wife's side and pulled her barely conscious body into his arms.

"Martha, get Alice and Delia out of here," one woman ordered. "I'll go with Mr. Jordon and see to Amelia."

"Will you be all right, Jane?" Martha asked, glaring at Hugh.

"I'll be fine," she shouted over the din. "Just get out of here." Urging them toward the door, she looked at Hugh. "I suggest you remove yourself from the line of fire."

Hugh carried Amelia to their cabin and placed her gently on the bed. "What the devil is going on?" he demanded, patting his wife's hand.

Ignoring his question, Jane wet a cloth and wiped Amelia's brow. "

"Go and see if you can find some brandy," she ordered. "I'll see to your wife. I'm a nurse."

Hugh quickly left the room and soon returned with the liquor. Jane met him at the door. He could see his wife stirring as she lay with a hand over her eyes.

"How is she?" he asked with obvious concern

"She should be fine, Mr. Jordon," Jane replied coolly. "I suggest you find something to keep you occupied," she continued as she started to close the door.

"Wait. What happened in the galley that would cause this reaction?"

"I suspect it had something to do with finding out her new husband also proposed marriage to nine other women," Jane snapped back as she placed a hand on his chest and pushed him out the door.

Hugh heard the heavy iron bolt slide home as he stood in the corridor in shock. Moments later he pounded on the door, demanding entrance.

"I want to know what this is about," he bellowed. "Amelia is my wife. Let me in this cabin immediately." There was no response, although he could hear Jane murmuring as she spoke with his wife. Stomping away in defeat, he spent the next three days in hell.

Although he paced the entire ship several times a day, hoping to catch a glimpse of his wife, he never saw her. Amelia never left their cabin. Well-guarded by her minions, she took her meals there and he frequently heard heated conversations and weeping as he passed the door.

Avoiding the other women was nearly impossible; their paths were bound to cross and he was met with looks ranging from frozen stares to open hostility. Most of them refused to even acknowledge his presence and no matter how many times he demanded entrance into their cabin, it wasn't granted.

Hugh took most of his meals in the captain's quarters, but he wasn't fit company for man or beast. Frustrated beyond belief, he racked his brain trying to come up with a reasonable explanation of how this could have happened. Apparently, he not only asked Amelia to marry him, but nine other women as well. He had no doubt that upon his return home he would be the laughing stock of Seattle and likely the most hated male in the territory.

His father was sure to have a good laugh after all his boasting of finding a compliant woman. The only thing he had to look forward to was arriving in Seattle. Once they were off the ship, he would find answers to his questions and hold the responsible parties accountable. He would also have access to his wife.

How could she think he was capable of such deception? He believed their marriage had a chance of success in the beginning. Unfortunately, he now realized how little faith she had in him. She never even asked if it was true. Just like his mother, she stubbornly refused to consider his feelings. It enraged him to think he married a woman possibly cut from the same cloth as Tempest Jordon. Stubborn, opinionated and defiant, she would make his life a living hell.

* * *

When Amelia finally disembarked from the Mystic Maiden, she was dressed head to toe in black and it infuriated him. His beautiful bride appeared to be in mourning and he wondered if one of the women in her entourage planned to shoot him. They moved down the gangway en masse as he watched from the ship's rail.

Hugh had just started down the gangway when his brother Samuel met him.

"Welcome home," Sam said, slinging an arm around his back. "Where's your new bride? Mother and Father are eager to meet her and have planned a welcome home dinner."

"See that little speck of black in the middle of those women?" he asked, pointing to the group waiting on the wharf.

Sam followed his direction and nodded.

"That's her."

"Well, go and fetch her. Why isn't she by your side?" he asked, realizing something was very wrong.

"It's a long story, and at this point a very ugly one," Hugh replied.

"She's in mourning."

"Apparently."

"Who died?"

"No one yet, but it's still early," Hugh drawled looking at the sky.

"I take it you're not exactly in a state of marital bliss?"

"Far from it, in fact, I don't see how things can get any worse." Watching a huge crowd of men gather around the women, Hugh clenched his fists. He wanted to go down there, push his way through the women and toss Amelia over his shoulder. There were too many hungry eyes for his liking. She should be home with him, getting her naughty ass paddled good. How dare she believe him capable of such trickery, such underhanded, conniving deceit?

They were nearly at the bottom of the gangway when Sam stopped with a groan.

"What is it?"

"You have to eat your words, brother. Things are about to get much, much worse. Look."

Hugh turned just in time to see his mother's carriage approach. Moving quickly, he made his way closer to the crowd surrounding his wife. His mother's voice carried to him on the breeze as she quickly exited her carriage as soon as it pulled to a stop.

"Amelia, Amelia," she cried.

Recognizing the high pitched accented voice, the throng parted and let her through. Despite how annoying the men found her, she was still the wife of their employer.

"Oh, my darling, ma petit cabbage, I'm so happy to finally meet you," she sang, enfolding the shocked Amelia into her arms. "I am your new ma ma. Welcome, sweet angel. Your pa pa and I have planned the most wonderful celebration for you. Come, we must leave before he becomes impatient. I will send for your trunks," she said, taking Amelia's arm and pulling her toward her carriage. "Why are you in black, Cheri? It is most unbecoming, but no matter. I will take you to Paris for a whole new trousseau. Oh, we will have so much fun, spending your husband's money!" She laughed, threading her arm through Amelia's. "By the way, where is my son?"

"Madam," Amelia began. "I must speak with you, privately," she hissed.

"What, my angel? You may tell your new ma ma anything. I adore secrets."

Looking at the small effervescent woman beside her, Amelia hesitated. Hugh hadn't said one complimentary thing regarding his mother. She wondered whether her acceptance hinged on this woman's good will. Glancing back, she saw her husband's tall figure working through the crowd. Coming to a swift decision, she signaled to Jane to wait a moment and climbed into Tempest Jordon's carriage.

Moments later the door flew open and Tempest bolted out.

"Mon du, this is a catastrophe! It is not to be born. You there," she called, pointing to two men on the edge of the crowd. "Fetch me two wagons, clean ones," she instructed with narrowed eyes. "Toot suite!" Clapping her hands, she called to the women. "Mademoiselles, come here at once."

Amelia was exiting the carriage when Hugh and Sam arrived. Seeing her husband's angry expression, she quickly backed up and closed the door. Tempest stepped in front of him as he reached for the door handle.

"What, no kiss for your ma ma?" she said sharply. "No greeting?"

"I'm sorry, Mother." Hugh sighed, leaning down to kiss her scented cheek. "You need to step aside. I would like a few words with my bride," he ground out.

Tempest held her ground, blocking his way.

"What a naughty boy you've been, my son," she scolded. "You cannot have more than one wife, not in this dismal country. You should have explained your desires to me and I would have arranged passage to Arabia. Many wives you could have had there. In Paris, you could have had any number of mistresses. It is the French way."

"No, Mother, you don't understand. This is all a big mistake. I only want one wife and that is the one that belongs to me, Amelia."

"Then why have you issued a proposal to ten women? Explain, please. What are you going to do with them all?" she demanded.

"I don't know," he sighed.

"Would you like my help?" she asked sweetly as the other women began to close in on them.

Hugh glared in the window of the carriage before answering. At this point he was exhausted, frustrated and didn't see any way out of this mess.

"Yes," he said softly.

"Ah, you have only to ask," she sweetly replied with a glint in her eyes. "Finally, my precious boy has need of his ma ma. Do not worry," she continued, reaching up to rest a hand on his cheek. "I will take care of everything. Ah good, here are the wagons.

"Samuel, take your brother to his home and give him a stiff drink. I will deal with this. Well, what are you standing here for?" she said, turning her attention to the newly arrived wagons and drivers. "Help the Mademoiselles into the wagons and be gentle. They have had a long, tiring journey. You there, gather the trunks and bring them to my home
immédiatement
."

Sam pulled Hugh away. As soon as they were out of hearing distance, Alice approached the carriage.

"Mr. Henderson is waiting for me," she said to Amelia. "Will you be all right?"

"I'll be fine," Amelia assured her, although after seeing the look on her husband's face she wasn't entirely sure. For some reason, witnessing his defeat to his mother didn't set quite right with her. His denial seemed genuine. Maybe none of this was his fault?

"Alice, are you going to be married right away? Today?"

"I don't know. He wants to show Delia and me his house and then I guess we'll go from there. Do you still want me to post the letter you gave me?"

"Yes, please, if it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all. Where are you all going?"

"To Hugh's parents' house, at least until we get everything sorted out. Someone wrote those letters and if it really wasn't Hugh, we need to find out who it was."

"Are you having doubts?"

"Yes," Amelia replied softly. "After I calmed down, I studied them carefully. Many of the same words are misspelled and the handwriting is different, as though someone obviously penned quite a few. Listen, if you and Mr. Henderson aren't going to marry immediately, have him bring you and Delia to the Jordon house. You'll be safe there," she said earnestly as she reached out the window to take Alice's hand. "There must have been nearly a hundred men waiting for the ship to reach Seattle. I have a feeling not all of them can be trusted."

"Mr. Henderson seems to be exactly what he claims to be," Alice answered.

"Yes, I know, but so did Hugh," Amelia replied.

"Oh my, that's true. Don't worry, I'll be careful and if we're not married before nightfall, I'm afraid I'll have to take you up on your generous offer."

"Best of luck, Alice. I hope he's everything you dreamed he'd be," she said as her friend walked away.

"Thank you." Alice smiled, turning back to the carriage. Opening the door, she hugged her friend. "I'm so sorry it hasn't turned out well for you."

"That's okay; I miss Effie and Grace dreadfully. Soon I'll be back at home fending off rich old suitors again, except this time I won't be worth so much. I'm damaged goods now." She sniffed.

"Amelia Westcott, how can you spout such rot?" Jane scolded, climbing in the other door. "What utter nonsense. Your new ma ma says I'm to ride with you. She wants all the details on the way and as I'm a 'Madam' and not a "mademoiselle' she thinks I will have more information and less theatrics. You should see some of those girls sucking up her sympathy. It's pathetic. Molly and Martha are the only ones who have a lick of sense as far as I can see."

"Excuse me, Alice. Delia is getting fidgety. I think she has to go," a man whispered as he approached Alice.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said quickly. "Amelia, Jane, this is Mr. Henderson. He's been kind enough to keep an eye on Delia while I said good-bye."

"Nice to meet you," Clarence said, tipping his hat.

"It's very nice to meet you too, Mr. Henderson. And Alice, it's not good-bye, it's au revoir." Amelia giggled.

"Parfiat," Tempest said approvingly as she entered the carriage. "Au revoir, Alice, Monsieur. Home now, Francois, si'l vous plait."

"It's Frank," a voice called down from above.

* * *

Once they arrived at the massive home of Tempest and Duncan Jordon, it did not take long for Amelia's new mother-in-law to set things in motion. Servants carried in trunks and readied bedrooms. Tempest's chef swore in fluent French when she requested he increase the number of guests for dinner, but eventually he complied. It wasn't until she insisted her husband pack a bag and move into his son's house, that all hell broke loose.