Northern Lights Trilogy (41 page)

She was his wife, and he liked the way she was changing, growing. “I feel I’m just beginning to know you,” he told her. “To understand the woman I only knew as a girl.”

She took his hand. “Thank you for bringing me along on the
Sunrise
, Peder. I know you have had doubts about the wisdom of having a woman—your wife—on board. And matters were not helped by Mason Dutton, Karl’s departure, Stefan, the Horn … I know those incidents probably made you think twice about it. But this is right, Peder. It is right for me to be by your side. And I would like you to look back at all those events and think as I do: that God has smiled on us. He has shown us that we can weather all that and still be safe in his arms. Isn’t our arrival here evidence of that?”

“I am still not convinced, Elsa. I do not know if I am being selfish and stupid for bringing you along or wise and gracious. But since you raised the matter, there’s something I need to discuss with you, love.” He paused to choose his words carefully as his thoughts went again from Elsa to Karl’s departure. He lowered his voice, conscious of other patients nearby. “Something that has eaten at my insides since the West Indies, and it is high time I get it off my chest.”

Elsa grew a shade paler. “Yes?”

Peder took a deep breath and plunged on. It was time he knew. “Did something transpire between you and Karl that I should know of ?”

Elsa’s eyes met his and narrowed, her brow furrowed in a deep frown. She shook her head. “What do you mean?”

Peder shifted, uncomfortable in phrasing such a difficult question. “I mean something … of a base nature. Did Karl … Do you know why … That night on the island, did he hold you? What I mean to say is … was he ungentlemanly in any way?”

Slowly she took his hand, and Peder prepared himself for the worst. “Peder Ramstad, I have never been unfaithful to you. Never. You have to believe that.”

“But that night,” Peder insisted. “Karl had that chest wound, and there was blood all over your dress, yet you were unharmed.”

Elsa looked down at the sheets across his chest as if visualizing that night. She licked her lips and spoke. “Karl Martensen saved my
life. More than once.” She looked into Peder’s eyes. “I think you’re aware that he felt something for me. I … I realized it too late.” Her eyes begged him to understand. “We were trying to find our equilibrium after the fight. He kissed me, Peder, nothing more, then you arrived at the clearing. I think that’s why he felt he had to leave. I’m sorry. I should have—”

“You let him kiss you?”

Elsa looked up, embarrassed by his loud, personal question. “Please, keep your voice down. No. Yes. I mean, I did not intend—”

“What did you intend, Elsa?” He felt his face flush with rage. “I told myself that it could not happen. Certainly my best friend was faithful to me, and certainly my wife—”

“Peder, you must understand. I did not realize in time. Karl saved my life. I was shaking so badly I could not stand. He picked me up just before I fainted, then I was in his arms and … Oh, please, Peder!” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “You must believe me. I did not know it was coming. Surely you understand that had I known, I would not have let him near.”

Peder pulled his arm from her hands. “Go away, Elsa. Leave me for a moment. I must think this through.”

Swallowing hard and wiping the tears from her face, Elsa rose with as much dignity as she could muster. She had chalked up Peder’s emotional distance to the malaria, but all along there had been something more. He had suspected the truth that night but said nothing.

“I never intended to come between you and Karl,” she said quietly, then turned and swept out of the room as six other patients covertly watched her departure. Her husband did not.

Tora studied her reflection in the dormitory mirror as she waited for Trent to arrive. She wrung her hands nervously. They were taking a train to Saint Paul that afternoon to attend the wedding of Alicia Hall’s older sister. And she was certain that the one man who could destroy her would be there. Karl Martensen. Now Alicia Hall’s
fiancée. He knew her secrets yet had said nothing that day on the train. But she also knew that Alicia Hall had taken note of Karl’s attention to her. The girl had watched her with catlike eyes, and Tora knew the look. It was one she could picture on her own face.

She did not want to mess with Alicia Hall. No, she and Trent would attend this wedding, and she would do her best to blend into the crowd. Surely a society wedding like this would be crowded with people. Tora had even taken care to wear the simpler of her two ball gowns, choosing the silver over the red. “Get in and get out,” she coached herself.

It was the giggling that tipped her off that Trent had arrived downstairs. “He’s here,” Missy Alexander said, ducking her head in the door, her face covered with a silly grin. “Oooh, you look lovely!”

“You think so?” Tora fretted, for once in her life wishing she did not. Not because she did not wish to attract Trent, but so she would not be noticed by Karl or his fiancée. Alicia and Karl could destroy her chances with Trent Storm: Karl through his knowledge of her past, and Alicia through a well-placed word with her father. John J. Hall’s business was much too important to Trent for him to ignore the man’s wishes. No, Tora did not want to invoke the ire of either Alicia or Karl.

“Tora?” Missy asked from the doorway. “Are you going down? Mr. Storm’s waitin’ on ya.”

“I
know
. I’ll be down shortly.”

Missy backed away as if stung. Served her right for meddling, Tora thought. She paced back and forth. Perhaps she should not wear the silver dress. Maybe a plain Sunday dress would be a better choice. But that would never work, not for such an important social occasion. Besides, such a modest costume might arouse Trent’s suspicions. A knock at her half-open door made her jump. It was Trent, hat in hand.

“Excuse me, Tora,” he said apologetically. “If we do not leave
right away, I am afraid we will miss our train. I asked Missy to come back up and get you, but she refused.” He looked puzzled.

“Yes, yes, Trent. I am so sorry,” Tora said, rushing to the door and opening it all the way. “Forgive me. I was searching for a … a handkerchief.”

“Will this do?” he asked, pulling a rich silk square from his pocket.

“Yes, yes. That will do.” She took his arm and forced herself to smile. “I always cry at weddings.”

He looked at her with a grin as he led her down the stairs. “Now why do I doubt that?”

Karl moved as if in a dream, dressing for the wedding while thinking of the last nuptials he had attended. Where were Peder and Elsa? Were they all right? He dismissed the thoughts. Undoubtedly, the Ramstads were better off without him. That self-reassurance still did not keep him from missing his best friends or the other Bergensers. He felt so far from what he had once considered home; Bergen was a lifetime ago, and memories of Camden faded in the distance. It seemed his whole life had been changed. For the better, he reminded himself. Today Alicia’s sister would wed. And soon—as soon as Alicia got around to setting the date—they would wed. The reality of it sent a charge through his body that made his heart beat double-time.

An image of Elsa flashed through his mind before he could stop it. Curiously it was an image from their childhood. He could not peg the exact location, but he remembered her musical laughter and the color high in her cheeks as they raced barefoot across a grassy knoll to a mountain swimming hole. It was there that the boys typically dived recklessly into the icy waters, and Elsa followed suit. He could vaguely picture Carina sitting demurely on the edge, dipping her toes in. Tora was probably too young to keep up. But Elsa was right there with them, diving in, drawing the admiration of all.

Perhaps it was her swan dive from the
Sunrise
that had awakened the memory. Thankfully the memory only evoked tender feelings, not the longing of days past. Had the healing begun? He had prayed for hours at a time, often on his knees in the middle of the night, beseeching his Lord for relief. It was a good thing that his prayer seemed to be answered of late. For he was marrying another in a matter of months. Perhaps his own marital happiness would drive away the last vestiges of his mad pursuit of Elsa Ramstad. Maybe one day they could all be friends. The thought brought him some comfort.

“Thinking of your own future bride?” Brad asked, brushing his jacket and pinning a rose boutonniere to his lapel.

Karl shifted uncomfortably. “And other things.”

Brad looked him in the eye. He was quiet for an instant before speaking. “You do love her, Karl, right?”

Karl blinked. “I think so.”

Brad laughed and slapped him on the back. “Well, it’s a good thing, old boy because if you back out now, the boss will have your hide. It’s one thing for Alicia to leave a man—and believe me, there have been plenty—but quite the opposite to think of a man leaving Alicia.”

An image of John hunting him down to mount his skin in his trophy room brought a sardonic smile to Karl’s lips. “Shall we go?”

“She’s a prize, you know,” Brad said over his shoulder, leading him out the door.

He had a cabby waiting, who opened the door ceremoniously. Karl hopped in, smiling. Brad climbed in behind him and hit the roof twice with his cane to indicate they were ready. The cab lurched off, the horses’ hooves clop-clopping on the cobblestone street.

“As I was saying, Alicia is a prize. But wait until you catch sight of my lady tonight.” Brad sighed dramatically. “Virginia Louise Parker.” He sighed again, and Karl kicked him.

“I do not jest, my friend,” Brad said, sitting up and reaching out
his hands to trace an hourglass shape. “If this feeling keeps up, I’m bound to be in your shoes.”

“What? Engaged? Well, it is time I meet the lady, then,” Karl said. “She’s probably an old maid if she’s taken up with the likes of you.”

“Ha! Well, I might not have John Hall’s ear at the moment—like some I might mention—but I’m poised to make something of myself. No sir, Virginia is not some old maid. She’s a peach, and I aim to pluck her.”

Karl frowned at him.

“Nothing ungentlemanly, mind you. I intend to do the honorable thing. I just do not intend to wait long enough for another man to get any ideas.”

The cabby pulled to a stop in front of a Saint Paul mansion. “I see you intend to marry well,” Karl said dryly.

Brad hopped out then turned back to waggle his eyebrows once at him. Karl chuckled and watched as his friend hurried up the front steps, spoke briefly to a butler, then disappeared inside the house. In a few moments, he emerged, proud as a peacock, a pretty brunette on his arm. When they reached the cab, Karl held out a hand to assist her.

“Thank you, sir,” she said quietly, confidently, looking into his eyes for a moment. “I assume you are Mr. Martensen?”

“I am. And you are Miss Parker?”

“Indeed.” She nodded once. Pretty, but not gorgeous. Sensible. He liked her immediately. It fit, that a rapscallion like Brad would find a woman like her to keep him in line.
Yes, it could work
, he mused.

“You are meeting Alicia?”

Karl nodded. “At the church. She is attending her sister. Do you know her?”

“A bit. I am an acquaintance of the Halls, but have never quite been accepted into their inner social circle.”

Karl frowned, a bit uncomfortable at her frankness.

“My father and Mr. Hall had a parting of ways some years ago. The invitation to this wedding came as some surprise.”

“Oh. I see.” He could not help but feel that the Halls’ ways were now his own responsibility. After all, at some point he would be kin. “Perhaps in time your father and Mr. Hall will mend—”

“No, no. Forgive me if I made you uncomfortable, Mr. Martensen. I simply felt that since Alicia is your fiancée, you should know that some water has passed under the bridge between our families. If you did not know, it might prove … uncomfortable.”

Silence descended upon them, and all three listened to the creak of the coach and the rhythm of horseshoes until Brad broke in. “Trust my date to lay her cards on the table. See why I am crazy about her?”