Rebellious Bride (11 page)

“You might find married life to your liking,” Holly offered. “There are pleasurable aspects to it.”

“Whatever could be pleasura—” Lil didn’t finish. Her face turned scarlet. “I never even considered the intimate side of marriage.”

“It can be quite enjoyable,” Holly said with a blush of her own.

Lil reached up and tore the combs from the one side of her hair that Holly had managed to style. Her strawberry blond tresses fell in a muddled mess around her face. “‘That does it. There will be no marriage. Absolutely, positively no marriage.”

“You’re wrong, Lillian Prescott,” her father said, walking into the room with a good-sized length of coiled rope draped over his arm.

~~~

Rolfe was dressed in black except for his stark white shirt. He stood By Preacher Puddle, a short, wire-thin man with spectacles that seemed forever perched on the tip of his nose. He looked pious, but was far from it. He had been understanding and generous when Rolfe explained his predicament. They both now stood waiting to set things right, waiting for Lillian.

The doors to the small church stood open, and Rolfe heard the commotion before he saw it. Holly Davin rushed through the doors first, followed by Doc Talbert, Billy Johnson, and Sam Prescott. Half the town rushed in after them.

Sam had flung Lillian over his shoulder like a sack of grain and was now marching down the aisle to the altar, where he deposited her with a loud thump next to Rolfe. Her ankles were tied together, as were her hands, and Sam steadied her stance before he released her.

With a tilt of her head she shook the mass of curls away from her face. Her green eyes glowed. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were a moist red. She gave the appearance of a woman aroused in the throes of passion.

Rolfe’s smile was lewd when he leaned down close and whispered in her ear, “So that’s the way you like it.”

Lil’s eyes seethed with fury, their green color burning bright.

Preacher Puddle didn’t give her a chance to respond; he began the service in a loud and distinct tone. “We are gathered here to celebrate the union of Lillian Prescott to Lord Rudolph Sherborn.”

Lil didn’t believe Preacher Puddle when he pronounced them husband and wife. She didn’t recall any of her responses. How could she be married? She couldn’t be. It was impossible. This wasn’t happening to her.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Sherborn, or should I say Lady Sherborn?” Holly teased, hugging her.

The rope had been removed and she was free, though more restricted now than ever. She felt especially so being referred to as Lady Sherborn.

It seemed as if the whole town filed past the newly married couple, offering their congratulations. Most expressed their delight wholeheartedly, while others spoke halfheartedly, like Mary Beth Hodges who barely cast Lil a civil glance.

Sam waited until everyone moved past and then walked over to his daughter. He leaned down, hugged her tightly to him, and kissed her cheek. “Please understand, Lil. I love you.”

Lil threw her arms around her father and hugged him fiercely. She didn’t want to let go. Letting go of him would mean letting go of everything her life had been. It frightened her to relinquish that security and love and face the unknown.

Her father gently pried her loose and turned her stiffly to face her husband.

Rolfe expected Lillian to demonstrate her usual bravado. He was not prepared for this young woman who stood before him confused and vulnerable. Her green eyes no longer glowed. Their haunting look exposed an inner defenselessness that Rolfe had never dreamed existed.

Instinctively he wanted to protect and shelter her—thoughts he never before would have associated with his and Lillian’s relationship.

He took her hand gently, alarmed by her cool skin. “I think it best if we retire to my home and discuss matters.”

Lil nodded her agreement, her throat still too tight with emotion to speak and a chill of uncertainty creeping over her.

Rolfe escorted her out of the church, his arm anchored around her waist, his need to draw her near and protect her strangely potent to his senses.

The roar of the gathered crowd greeted them. Sam walked with them to Rolfe’s covered buggy as the townspeople called out their heartiest good wishes.

Rolfe lifted Lil into the buggy, tucking the hem of her dress in after her. He sent her a heartwarming smile and squeezed her hand gently in reassurance. She attempted a half smile in return, and Rolfe nodded, pleased at her submissive response.

Rolfe turned and shook Sam’s hand.

“Take care of her or you’ll have me to answer to,” Sam warned him.

Holly laughed and poked Sam in the arm with her elbow. “It won’t be you he’ll answer to, if I know Lil.”

Rolfe tensed. “Lillian will make a good wife.”

“The question is,” Holly said, pausing a moment, “what do you feel determines a good wife?”

Rolfe didn’t answer. He climbed into the buggy next to Lillian, and with a snap of the reins they were off, with the cheers of the crowd trailing behind them.

It was a short ride to his house on the hill and a silent one.

Rolfe considered Holly’s question and decided to explain to Lil what he considered his wife’s duties. Once the issue was discussed and settled, there would be no problems, and their married life could proceed in an orderly fashion.

Rolfe climbed down out of the buggy and walked around to assist Lillian. He found her already climbing out on her own. The vulnerable Lillian was gone, and the obstinate one had returned.

“Lillian.” His tone was brusque. “Please be so kind as to wait for me to assist you.”

Lil looked at him oddly. “Why? I’m capable of climbing out of a buggy on my own. I do it all the time when I visit patients.”

“That’s another matter we need to discuss,” he said and took her arm to escort her up the pathway to the house.

“What’s there to discuss?” Lil asked, not liking what his authoritative tone suggested.

His answer was postponed as Jonathan walked out on the veranda to greet them with warm congratulations.

“I am at your service, Lady Sherborn,” he said and bowed respectfully.

“I’m pleased to hear that, Jonathan,” Lil said with a cheerful smile. “But the first thing that goes is the Lady Sherborn title. My name is Lil, and I expect you to call me that. Second, I don’t expect you to serve me. I’ve been on my own for a good long time, and I’m used to taking care of myself. So let’s just call each other friends.” She held out her hand to him.

Jonathan looked perplexed and sought out his lordship’s direction. Rolfe nodded, instructing him to honor her request—for now. Jonathan, though confused, shook her hand.

“Refreshments are waiting in the parlor, sir,” Jonathan announced after they had entered the house.

Lil looked around, her smile broadening when she saw the tastefully decorated house.

Rolfe was pleased by her interest in and obvious approval of his home. “Jonathan will show you about after we finish our discussion. He will also assist you in packing your belongings and moving them here.”

“Whenever you’re ready, madam,” Jonathan said.

“Thank you.” Lil ignored, for the moment, his failure to call her by her name. It took time to change old habits, and she had a feeling there would be many old habits to tackle around here.

The parlor was an eye-catching blend of English aristocracy and western necessity. A huge stone fireplace served as the focal point of the room. A soft cameo-blue velvet sofa and matching Victorian chairs were grouped in front of it. A low marble-top table with cabriole legs sat centered among them and held a silver tea service. Fine white china teacups and plates edged with delicate blue flowers also occupied the table as did a matching platter with an attractive assortment of miniature cakes and sliced fruits.

Lil soon lost interest in investigating the remainder of the room. The tempting food reminded her she hadn’t eaten in some time. She settled herself on the sofa and looked at Rolfe. “May I pour?”

“Please do,” he said, glad she was at least knowledgeable in the rudiments of proper tea serving. He took the chair beside her and accepted a cup of tea, but politely declined her offer of cake.

She sipped the strong brew with pleasure and nibbled at the delicious cakes, while actually wishing she could pop every one of them into her mouth, so hungry was she. Her appetite vanished instantly when Rolfe spoke.

“I think it best if I explain in detail what I expect of you.”

Lil returned the saucer and cup to the silver tray. “By all means, Rolfe, please do.”

Rolfe placed his cup on the table and stood, tugging on the bottom of his vest and clearing his throat before he spoke. “Please don’t interrupt me until I am finished. Then you may voice your opinion.”

Lil leaned back against the sofa, folded her arms across her chest, and remained silent.

“Good,” Rolfe said and proceeded. “First, your duties as Doc Talbert’s assistant are at an end. I will not tolerate my wife viewing near naked men, tending to bloody body parts, and being summoned at all hours of the day and night. I’m sure you will find enough duties around this house to keep you occupied.”

He paused a moment to note her reaction. Her expression had not changed, so he continued. “Second, you will discuss all matters with me so I may decide what is best for you. If you wish to visit friends, attend certain social functions, or whatever, make certain you speak with me first.”

He glanced her way again, still no reaction. “Last and most importantly.” He stopped again and looked straight at her, capturing her eyes with his in a silent challenge. “I feel it is best if we get to know each other better before we consummate our marriage.”

He had thought hard on this matter, especially after this morning when he woke to find her nearly naked and pressed against him, her lips uninhibitedly tasting him. He concluded it would do neither of them any good to rush into the intimacy of marriage when they knew so little of each other and when they seemed none too pleased with what they did know.

“Are you finished?” Lil asked calmly.

“Yes, you may voice your opinions now.” Rolfe prepared himself by clasping his hands behind his back and standing stiff and straight.

Lil stood and tossed down the white linen napkin that had covered her lap. “You pompous ass! None of what you said deserves an answer.” She stormed out of the room past a startled Jonathan, who was about to enter.

“You may take this away, Jonathan,” Rolfe said, nodding toward the table. “And leave Lady Sherborn to herself for a while. She is unaccustomed to her new status and needs to acclimate herself to her surroundings.”

“Very well, sir. I shall wait until early evening to see if I may be of service to her.”

“See that the bedroom adjoining mine is prepared for Lady Sherborn. I’ll be in my study if you need me for anything.”

“Yes, sir,” Jonathan said.

Rolfe spent the next several hours going over his ledgers. His thoughts now and again strayed to Lillian. He assumed she was either pouting in her room, which he was certain that Jonathan had shown her to by now, or busy familiarizing herself with her new home.

He closed the ledger book and arched his back while stretching his arms. It would take time, but Lillian would come to understand the duties he expected of his wife. He supposed she’d complain and fight him on certain matters; that was to be expected. In the end, however, she would realize that his way was best, and they would settle into a routine existence as husband and wife.

At first he had railed against marrying her. After leaving the saloon he had returned home and raged over the injustice of his forced situation. Lillian was thoroughly unsuitable wife material. Her volatile nature and her determination to treat the sick were not qualities he found acceptable in a gentle lady.

Fate appeared to have decided otherwise for him. The choice of whom he married was no longer his, and he would deal with the situation presented him accordingly. He had always loved a challenge, and Lillian definitely presented a challenge.

Her beauty was another matter. She could bewitch any beholder. Her strawberry blond hair, fair skin, delicate features, and rich green eyes proved lethal. And her body, trim yet full, silky, and supple... Rolfe shivered with the memories of their early morning encounter.

That encounter had determined his decision to not consummate their marriage just yet. They needed time to come to know each other. Time to bridge the distance between them and come together as friends before they could be lovers.

Rolfe checked his pocket watch. Supper was two hours away. He’d see what his new wife was up to and how her temper was faring.

Rolfe found the house surprisingly silent. He thought he’d hear her ordering Jonathan about, or perhaps the commotion of her belongings being moved in.

“Jonathan!” he called, suddenly concerned.

Jonathan appeared quickly. “Yes, sir?”

“Where is Lady Sherborn?”

Jonathan hesitated a moment too long.

“Where is she?” Rolfe’s abrupt question was filled with annoyance.

“She took a horse and rode to town. At least that is what one of the cowhands told me.”

Rolfe’s anger mounted. “And did he happen to know her exact destination.”

Jonathan nodded, but appeared reluctant to tell him.

“Well?”

“She told him she was going to Susie’s saloon,” Jonathan said and winced after hearing the name of such an offensive establishment come from his lips.

Rolfe arched one brow, his nostrils flared, and he spoke succinctly. “The buggy! I’m going to get my
wife.”

Lil paced the hall outside Bibi’s room. She needed to calm herself. Her fingers gripped the skirt of her yellow dress, wrinkling the fine cotton.

“He’s two times a fool if he thinks he can order me around.” She spoke to the red flocked wallpaper. “He thinks he can tell me I can’t continue as Doc’s assistant? Well, he’d better think again.”

Lil released her skirt, the wrinkles slowly unfolding as she continued to address the garish wall covering. “I didn’t want this marriage in the first place. I didn’t want any marriage just yet. And I certainly wouldn’t have chosen
him
as a husband.”