Читать книгу Society Wives: Secret Lives: The Rags-To-Riches Wife - Jennifer Greene, Jennifer Greene - Страница 13

As he returned to his position at the altar, Jack didn’t miss the looks and whispers that followed him. He glanced over at the front row on the right where his mother sat on the edge of her seat, her white gloves clasped tightly in her hands, a worried expression on her face. His father met his gaze and when Jack nodded, John sat back and took his wife’s hand.

“Everything okay?” Scott asked in a low voice.

“Everything’s fine.”

Despite what he told his friend, he wasn’t at all sure everything was fine. Lily had looked terrified when he’d found her in that powder room. She’d been hit by a major case of cold feet. He couldn’t say he blamed her. Her entire world was being turned upside-down. Not only was she pregnant with his baby, she was marrying a man she knew very little about and she was becoming a member of the Cartwright family. In his opinion neither of those things would inspire much confidence.

He wasn’t sure which was more daunting—marrying him or marrying into his family because, as much as he loved his family, he knew being a Cartwright wasn’t always easy. A lot of expectations and responsibilities came with the family name and the fortune. He’d had his entire life to learn to deal with both. Lily had had less than two weeks.

When the first chords of the bridal march sounded once again, he stared at the entrance. Despite the fact that she’d agreed to go through with the wedding, he wasn’t at all confident that she would. And just when he thought she had decided against marrying him after all, there she was—standing at the entrance beneath the flowered arbor.

She was beautiful, he thought as she stepped up to the end of the white runner. He’d heard the old wives’ tale about women who were pregnant having a glow about them. He’d never put much stock in it, never had reason to before now, he guessed. But Lily was living proof that it was true. She glowed. She’d put her hair up in some kind of twist thing, but little pieces had slipped free and fell around her face. The effect of the deep red strands against that creamy skin was striking. And just as he had done when he’d seen her for the first time at the ball five months ago, he was unable to take his eyes off her. There was something about her, something beyond her beauty and the physical chemistry that drew him to her, just as it had drawn him to her that long-ago night.

He could see the stress swirling in those ghost-blue eyes of hers as she started down the aisle. He didn’t miss the slight tremor in the hands that were holding the bouquet either. When she finally reached him, she looked as though she still might turn and run. So he reached out and caught her hand. Judging by the Reverend Lawrence’s frown, he’d just committed some kind of sin. Evidently touching the bride at this point in the ceremony was a big no-no.

Too bad, Jack thought. Rules or no rules, if holding her hand made any of this easier for Lily, then that’s what he intended to do.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” the minister began.

Jack could feel three dozen pairs of eyes on his back, watching him, watching her, watching them. He’d shocked his friends and business associates when he’d announced that he was marrying Lily … and that he was going to be a father. He’d known they had had some reservations, but they also knew that when he made up his mind about something, there was no changing it. So they’d wisely kept most of their reservations to themselves. Fortunately, his family had rallied behind him with their support.

“If there be anyone here who knows why these two people should not be joined in wedlock, let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”

Lily tensed beside him and he half expected her to object. Wouldn’t that be a first? he thought, amused at the image of the bride objecting to her own wedding. Talk about a scandal on top of a scandal. He could just see the headlines in Bunny Baldwin’s Social Diary. Jack Cartwright’s Bride Bolts from Shotgun Wedding. Poor Bunny, the lady must be giving them hell in heaven because she was missing some of the juiciest gossip to hit Eastwick in years.

His thoughts wandering, Jack felt Lily squeezing his hand. Shaking off his musings, he looked down at her, noted the anxious look in her eyes, the twin spots of color on her cheeks. He knew she was trying to tell him something. But what? That she was scared? That she had changed her mind?

“Jack. Jack.” The minister repeated his name.

Jack jerked his gaze over to Reverend Lawrence and realized then that he’d missed something.

“Do you, John Ryan Cartwright, take Lily Miller to be your lawfully wedded wife, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health? Do you promise to love her and honor her, forsaking all others until you are parted by death?”

“I do,” Jack said firmly.

“Then repeat after me. I, John Ryan Cartwright, do take thee, Lily Miller, to be my wedded wife.”

“I, John Ryan Cartwright, do take thee, Lily Miller, to be my wedded wife …”

“For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health,” the minister continued.

“For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health,” Jack repeated.

“I promise to love you and honor you, forsaking all others, until we are parted by death.”

Repeating the vow, he never took his eyes from Lily’s face as he said, “I promise to love you and honor you, forsaking all others, until we are parted by death.”

After Lily repeated the vows to him, the reverend asked for the rings. Jack took the ring from Scott and turned back to face Lily.

“Repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Jack said and he slid the platinum band onto Lily’s finger as he pledged himself to her.

The minister turned to Lily, who took the ring from his sister, then, sliding the ring onto Jack’s finger, she said, “With this ring, I thee wed.”

Moments later, Reverend Lawrence said, “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Jack kissed her. He’d meant for the kiss to be brief, a simple brush of his lips against hers. It was tradition. It was expected and he didn’t want to add to Lily’s stress by keeping her on display any longer than necessary. But when his mouth touched hers, he lingered. Only for a moment, but long enough for the taste of her to fill his head, long enough for his pulse to begin beating like a jackhammer, long enough for him to remember why they’d found themselves standing before a minister exchanging vows in the first place.

And judging by the look in Lily’s eyes, she was remembering, too.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Reverend Lawrence said. “May I present to you Mr. and Mrs. John Ryan Cartwright.”

It was done, Jack told himself as he and Lily turned to face the applauding guests. He and Lily were now man and wife. The pianist hit the keys again, and as the joyful tune rang out, he placed Lily’s hand on his arm and led her down the aisle.

An hour later, Jack decided he’d had enough. From the look on Lily’s face, she had, too. “Excuse me,” he told his longtime friend and fellow attorney Dan Granger. “I’d better go rescue Lily before my mother ropes her into joining her bridge club.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Dan told him. “But, Jack, I hope you won’t be too quick to rule out the senate race. With Carlton’s group behind you, you’d have a good shot at claiming that seat. And we could certainly use someone like you on Capitol Hill.”

“I appreciate that, Dan. But right now, my focus is on my new wife and our family,” he explained. While he hadn’t ruled out a run for office, after speaking with his father, he wasn’t sure he wanted to put Lily through the ordeal. He had absolutely no qualms or reservations about Lily’s unplanned pregnancy and their marriage. Nor did he feel anything but pride for where she came from and what she had made of herself. He knew from her comments that her lack of family and knowledge about her heritage bothered her.

“I understand. I shouldn’t have even bothered you about this on your wedding day. We’ll talk about it in a week or two. And congratulations again on your marriage.”

“Thanks,” Jack said, and, after shaking Dan’s hand, he headed across the patio to where Lily was standing with his mother and two women he recognized as part of her bridge group.

“Jack, darling,” his mother said and beamed as he joined them. “You remember Louise and Pamela from my bridge group, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course. Good afternoon, ladies,” he said with a bow of his head.

“I was just telling your mother what a beautiful bride you have,” the ash-blond Pamela told him.

“Thank you. I happen to think she’s beautiful, too,” Jack said and he stared directly at Lily. He didn’t miss the rush of color to her cheeks. “If you ladies don’t mind, I’m going to steal my wife away for a few minutes.”

He reached for Lily’s hand and as he was hustling her away, he spied his great-aunt Olivia Cartwright heading toward them. “Aunt Olivia at two o’clock. Come on,” he said and led her out to the center of the floor.

“Jack, what are you doing?” she asked as he took her in his arms and spun her around the stone patio floor in time to the music.

“Dancing with my wife.”

“But why?”

“Because my great-aunt Olivia considers herself the authority on everything from business to marriage to giving birth. Trust me, you don’t want her to start offering us advice.”

“Oh,” she said. “Did you say she was your great-aunt?”

“Yes. My grandmother’s older sister.” Grateful that the band was playing a slow tune, he held Lily close. It reminded him of the night at the ball when he’d held her in his arms for the first time. Just as on that night she felt soft and silky and as elusive as moonlight. He breathed in her scent, the hint of roses and sunshine and some mysterious scent that was hers alone. She fitted him perfectly and he was keenly aware of the weight of her breasts against his chest, the way her dress swished against his pant legs as they moved their feet in harmony. He was also aware of the roundness of her abdomen pressing against him.

“You have a lot of relatives,” she said, her breath whispering against his ear and causing that rapid beat in his pulse again. “What’s it like being a part of a big family?”

“Annoying,” he told her and tried to shake off his sexual feelings. The last thing Lily needed right now was for him to start making marital demands on her. Besides the fact that she was pregnant, she had had her entire life turned upside down. Now that she was a Cartwright her life would never be the same again. Right or wrong, the name Cartwright meant money and power. And while giving his name to her and their child would provide security and protection, it would also subject her to the curiosity, rumors and often the envy of others. Some of it had already started. He’d had a flurry of calls from friends, business acquaintances, members of the country club and even former girlfriends when the news had broken of his impending marriage. He didn’t doubt that the gossip mill was working overtime with the scandal of Lily’s pregnancy and their marriage. Of course, without Bunny Baldwin and her Social Diary to feed the frenzy, it might lose steam quickly. At least he hoped it would. Until then, he intended to shield Lily from it as much as he could.

Easing back, she looked at him. “I’d have thought it would be wonderful to have so many people related to you. You’d never be alone. There would always be someone to share the holidays with, to spend special moments with.”

He knew that Lily had spent most of her holidays alone, the outsider watching foster families celebrating. There was a part of him that ached for the lonely girl she must have been. He couldn’t go back and wipe away those unhappy memories, but he promised himself that he would make happy memories for her in the future. “I guess it is pretty nice most of the time—except at times like today when those well-meaning family members, like my mother, insist on getting in your business and hosting receptions like this one so that she can show us off.”

“It’s not that bad,” she told him.

“Shh. Don’t let her hear you say that or she’ll never let us out of here.” Lily smiled and it was the first real smile he’d seen from her all afternoon. Drawing her close, he moved her into a slow spin.

“We’re being watched,” she told him.

“Ignore them,” he said, not wanting to allow anyone to intrude upon the moment. It was the first time she’d come close to relaxing with him since they’d agreed to get married.

“That might be kind of hard to do. Your aunt Olivia is waving a napkin at us. I think she wants us to come over to her.”

“She’s our aunt Olivia now,” he informed her. He had indeed seen Aunt Olivia motioning them over. She’d been hard to miss since she was the only eighty-five-year-old woman with Lucille Ball red hair holding a glass of bourbon in one hand and a cane in the other. “You do realize that now that you’re a Cartwright, all these annoyingly wonderful relatives are yours now, too—including Aunt Olivia.”

“Um, Jack. I think our aunt Olivia is getting impatient.”

Jack glanced over to where his great-aunt had just slapped her glass down on a table and was insisting the young waiter help her to her feet. “We’d better go see what she wants.”

What she wanted was to give them both a lecture on what was necessary to make a marriage work. Since Aunt Olivia’s own marriage had spanned sixty years until the death of Uncle Charlie, she considered herself an authority on the subject. She’d lectured them on the importance of being good to one another, of respecting one another and of sharing the responsibility for raising the kids. She’d told them not to make the mistake of taking each other for granted. She also told them that they needed to make time for one another and to listen to what the other one had to say.

“You young people are big on the term communication. Well, communication is one of the keys to a good marriage. And that communication needs to start in the bedroom,” Aunt Olivia told them. She pointed her cane at him. “You keep your wife happy in the bedroom and the rest will take care of itself.”

Lily turned beet-red.

Jack coughed. “Thanks, Aunt Olivia, but I don’t think—“

“And you,” she said, turning her focus on Lily. “You need to remember that men are like little boys. Every one of them wants to be a super hero between the sheets. If you spend all of your time and energy on the children or the house, you’ll be too tired to let them do their super-hero act. Their fragile egos can’t handle it. So you make sure you save some of yourself for your man,” she continued. “Even if it means ordering takeout food or hiring a sitter for the kids, do it. Because when you close that bedroom door, you need to be a woman first. Understand?”

“Um, yes, ma’am,” Lily said, but Jack noted she averted her eyes.

“There’s no need for either of you to be embarrassed. From where I stand, it looks to me like you’re not having any troubles in the bedroom now. All I’m saying is make sure you keep it that way. Good sex is one of the most important things in a marriage. Why do you think Uncle Charlie and I made it for more than sixty years? It’s because we had a good sex life up until the day he died.”

Which was a lot more than he wanted to know. “Thanks, Aunt Olivia. We appreciate the advice.”

“Yes, thank you,” Lily said.

“Just doing my duty,” Aunt Olivia told them.

And before she started doling out any more advice on sex, Jack said, “You’ll need to excuse us, Aunt Olivia. It looks like Mother needs us to cut the cake.” Taking Lily by the arm, he hustled her across the room. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of this place. What do you say we cut the cake and then head for home?”

“It sounds good to me.”

Lily squirmed in the seat of Jack’s car. Ever since she’d hit the fourth month of her pregnancy, trips to the restroom were like clockwork. They came at two-hour intervals without fail. She’d gotten used to it for the most part and simply made sure she was in close proximity to a bathroom when the urge hit. But she had been so anxious to leave the reception that she hadn’t paid attention to her inner clock or visited the restroom before leaving. As a result, she was well past schedule for a bathroom break and there didn’t seem to be a service station anywhere in sight. She shifted in her seat again and wondered what Jack’s reaction would be to his new bride ruining the leather upholstery in his shiny Mercedes. She didn’t want to find out. “Is it much farther?” she asked him.

“About five minutes,” he told her.

Lily bit off a groan and squirmed in her seat.

He glanced across the seat at her. “Is everything okay?” he asked, a worried note in his voice. “Is it the baby?”

“No, everything is not okay, and yes, it’s the baby,” she confessed and would have laughed at his panicked expression, but knew that even a chuckle right now would result in wet leather seats. “Our little angel is pushing on my bladder and I really, really need a bathroom. So could you please hurry?”

Jack hurried and ten minutes later when she left the bathroom, she felt almost normal again. Or as normal as she could under the circumstances. She had made such a mad dash for the bathroom when they’d arrived that she had scarcely noticed the two-story Colonial and just how lovely it was. After seeing his parents’ home, she had worried that Jack, too, lived in a sprawling mansion, and she had wondered how she would feel living in such a big place. But she needn’t have worried, because while Jack’s house was certainly enormous compared to her efficiency apartment, she didn’t find it intimidating.

“I appreciate the offer, Mother …”

Lily heard Jack’s deep voice coming from another part of the house and realized he must be on the phone. So she used the time to explore her surroundings. She had raced through the door so quickly, intent on finding the bathroom, that she hadn’t noticed that the front door was made of walnut. Nor had she seen the leaded side-lights on either side of the door. Turning, she noted the large rectangular mirror set in pewter that hung over an antique table. A crystal vase of bright red tulips added a burst of color to the muted tones. The sweeping staircase was a real eye-catcher. She walked across the diamond-patterned marble floor and found herself in the living room. The room was gorgeous. A fireplace with a dramatic mantel was the focal point of the room. She could easily imagine a fire burning in the hearth on cold winter days. Floor-to-ceiling windows and built-in bookcases gave the room a welcoming feel. Photographs were scattered about—shots of Jack and his sisters holding skis while they stood in front of a snow-covered slope, shots of his parents on a cruise ship, one of Aunt Olivia standing before a birthday cake covered in candles. She trailed her fingers across the back of one of the couches. The furniture was high-quality and she suspected the chairs alone cost more than all the furniture in her apartment. Yet, it looked comfortable and had a lived-in feel to it. It wasn’t just for show.

The living room led to a bright sunroom with flagstone floors, lattice work, ten-foot ceilings and southern, eastern and western exposures. There were French doors leading to a stone patio off the sunroom. Reversing direction, Lily headed back toward the foyer. This time she stopped at the base of the staircase and glanced up to where she suspected the bedrooms were located. Thoughts of the bedrooms and her and Jack’s sleeping arrangements set off a nervous fluttering in her stomach.

She hadn’t allowed herself to think much beyond the wedding, let alone to the wedding night. She and Jack hadn’t discussed what their sleeping arrangements would be. On the one hand, she knew it was silly for them not to share a bed. They were married and it wasn’t as though they were two strangers who had never shared a bed. They had. They were expecting a baby together—a baby that had been created the old-fashioned way. But when she’d gone to his room that night, she hadn’t realized who he was, that he was Jack Cartwright, a member of Eastwick’s elite and the newly appointed board member of Eastwick Cares. No, he had just been the handsome stranger who had eased the ache in her heart. That night, in his arms, it hadn’t mattered that she’d failed once again in her quest to discover who she was and why she had been left at the church. What had mattered was that he had wanted her and she had wanted him. And, for that one night, she hadn’t felt so alone.

But she had no mask to hide behind now. There was no more pretending she was someone else. She was still Lily. Only now she was pregnant and married to Jack Cartwright, a man who didn’t love her, a man who had married her out of his sense of responsibility because she carried his child. She looked at the rings on her finger, remembered the night Jack had given her his grandmother’s engagement ring and kissed her. She touched her lips, recalling the rush of heat and emotion she’d experienced that night. She’d felt that same rush of feeling when he’d recited his vows and slid the wedding band on her finger. His voice had sounded so strong and true, she could almost believe that he’d meant those words.

And if you do, Lily Miller, you’re setting yourself up for a fall.

It was true, she reasoned. If she had learned nothing else in those years she’d been a ward of the state and in the foster-care system, she had learned not to wear rose-colored glasses. Too many times she had gotten her hopes up, thinking that she would be adopted, only to find herself passed over when the couple she’d pinned her hopes on became pregnant or an infant became available for adoption. Lily Miller would do in a pinch—but only until the real thing came along. Jack might desire her, he might even have married her for the baby’s sake. But he didn’t love her. The surefire path to heartache would be to allow herself to think otherwise.

“There you are.”

She turned at the sound of Jack’s voice and darned if her heart didn’t kick an extra beat as she watched him walk toward her. He’d lost his jacket, shed his tie and opened the buttons of his shirt at the collar. His dark hair looked a tad less perfect, as though he had shoved his fingers through it. A trace of five o’clock shadow darkened his jawline and made him even sexier than she’d remembered. He looked so tall and strong and sure of himself, she thought. Unlike her, he didn’t seem to be suffering any second thoughts or concerns about the fact that they were now husband and wife.

“I’m sorry I left you alone so long. My mother and father arranged for us to have the honeymoon suite at the Embassy Hotel for the rest of the weekend as a surprise. Apparently the limo driver was supposed to take us there and I screwed things up by dismissing the driver and taking my own car. But I told them we’d take a rain check. I hope that’s okay. I thought you might prefer spending some time here, getting used to your new home.”

“That’s fine and yes, I would. Thank you,” she said.

“Have you had a chance to look around yet?”

“Just the living room and the sunroom.”

“Do you want me to give you the rest of the tour?”

“I’d like that,” she said.

The rest of the house consisted of a formal dining room with a fireplace, paneled walls, mirrored china closets and corner cabinets. The family dining annex had French doors that offered a natural flow out to two great covered porches with ceiling fans. One of the porches had mahogany screens and a fireplace perfect for curling up next to with a book. The country kitchen was custom-made with marble counters, tile floors, glass-fronted cabinets, a teak island for chopping and a six-burner commercial stove. The large bay window looked perfect for a family breakfast table and she could easily see herself, Jack and their baby sitting there.

“The library is this way,” Jack said.

The library was cozy. Paneled with old barn siding, it had another great fireplace and coffered ceiling. There was an adjacent bar room with a fridge and ice-maker and a second powder room.

“And this is what I guess you’d call a family room,” Jack said as he led her into another large room with a stone fireplace and a coffered ceiling.

Lily moved about the room, took in the details. Built-in bookcases and cabinets completely encircled the room and the cabinets and ceilings were beautifully striated. Oversize chairs, two couches with undertones of forest-green and taupes. It was definitely a man’s home. And there lying across the arm of one of the big overstuffed couches was the afghan from her apartment. She walked over to the couch, picked it up and held it to her breast. When she brought her gaze to Jack’s again, her voice came out in a hoarse whisper as she asked, “How did this get here?”

“I brought it,” he confessed. “While you were getting ready this morning, I went over to your apartment and convinced your building manager to let me inside so I could pick up a few of your things.”

“But why?”

“You said you didn’t have time this week to see the house or move any of your stuff. I know the rushed wedding, coming here, it’s all been hard for you. I thought if you had a few of your things here, it might make you feel more comfortable.”

“That was very thoughtful of you. Thank you.” His kindness and sensitivity moved her. She was coming to realize that kind, sensitive gestures were not uncommon for Jack. She’d known he was a kind and giving man from his work on the board. He hadn’t simply opened his checkbook to help sustain the work they did at Eastwick Cares, he had also given of his time and himself. She’d also seen the way he interacted with his family. Even with his somewhat overbearing aunt Olivia he had shown nothing but patience and caring. She might not have planned this baby, but the better she got to know Jack the more convinced she was that he was going to be a wonderful father to their child. The truth was he would be the perfect husband for her in every way—if only he had married her out of love instead of duty.

“I’ll arrange to pick up the rest of your things and your furniture next week and move it in here.”

“Somehow, I don’t think my furniture will blend very well with your things,” she told him, which was the truth. Her furniture was like her—plain, inexpensive, only reproductions of fine antiques. Whereas Jack’s furniture was like him—elegant, pricy and genuine antiques passed down through generations.

“We’ll make it work,” he assured her. “I meant what I said, Lily. I want you to feel comfortable here. This is your home now, too. So if there’s anything you don’t like about the house, feel free to change it. Or if you decide you don’t like the house itself, that you’d rather a live in different architectural style, just say the word and we’ll look for another place.”

“No. I love the house, Jack. Really. It’s warm and welcoming.” She looked at him. “It’s beautiful just the way it is. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“All right. But if you change your mind, just say so. I swear it won’t bother me a bit. The important thing to me is that you and the baby are happy here. The vows I took today, I meant them, Lily. I want this marriage to work. I want us to build a life together.”

“So do I,” she admitted and there was something about the way he looked at her that made her heart beat just a tad faster.

“I know we haven’t discussed it much, but I want this to be a real marriage. I want to be a real husband to you and a father to our baby.”

“I understand.” She did understand, Lily told herself. Jack was a sexy, virile man. He was also an honest one. He wasn’t the type of man who would cheat on his wife even if he didn’t love that wife.

“I’m glad.” He cupped her cheek. “Did you want to rest a while? Or would you like me to show you the upstairs?”

The upstairs was just as impressive as the main floor. There were four bedrooms with baths as well as a sitting room with a fireplace. A huge office with ceiling beams and bamboo trim led to an outdoor terrace. Glass-fronted linen closets and a handy laundry chute lined one section of the hallway. There was another suite with a bath and a private wing that she could have fitted her entire apartment into.

“This leads to the attic,” Jack explained, indicating a set of stairs. “We can save viewing it for another time. I’m a little worried about you climbing the narrow steps. But it has two bedrooms, a full bath, a sitting area and a playroom.”

“A playroom?”

He grinned. “I’m told the original owners had five children.”

Lily swallowed. “Five?”

“Sounds like a lot in this day and age, doesn’t it? I imagine it wouldn’t be easy to have a family that size. There were just three of us and mealtimes alone were crazy. But as nuts as my family makes me at times, I wouldn’t trade any of them. And there’s a part of me that thinks it might be nice to have a house filled with kids.”

It sounded nice to her, too, Lily admitted silently.

“The master bedroom is down this way,” he said and Lily followed him down the hall. He opened the door and motioned for her to enter.

The master bedroom was actually a suite and every bit as lovely as the rest of the house. A stone fireplace took up one wall. A huge mahogany bed took up another. There was a couch and there were more overstuffed chairs. Everything had been done in varying shades of brown, ranging from ivory to mocha. The adjoining bath had his-and-hers sinks, a steam shower and a tub big enough to swim in. There was even some high-tech television built into the mirrored bath wall. Again, it was a room designed for a man.

“This door over here connects to the room next door. I thought you might want to use that room as a nursery. It’s close, so we’d be able to hear the baby cry or to handle late-night feedings.”

Lily didn’t miss the we and knew that he expected them to share the room and the big bed. And the truth was, she re minded herself, there was no reason they shouldn’t. Yet despite the wedding ring on her finger and the baby growing inside, she couldn’t help feeling cheated.

“The dressing rooms and closets are over here. My things are in here,” he said and led her into a huge walk-in dressing area and closet. He flipped the light switch and revealed a closet lined with dozens and dozens of suits, shirts, ties and shoes—all neatly arranged on racks and shelves. “I thought you could use this one, but we can swap if you’d like,” he offered and opened the door to another dressing room.

She walked over to the vanity table and stared down at her own brush, mirror and the cut-glass perfume bottles that she collected. She picked up the mirror, ran her finger tips along the silver edges. Then she put it down and walked over to the closet. The thing was the size of a small bedroom and there, hanging neatly on the racks and folded on the shelves were the clothes she had packed in the suitcase that morning. She turned and looked at him.

“I had them brought here today while you were getting ready,” he explained. “I knew it was going to be a long day and I didn’t want you to have to worry about unpacking.”

“Thank you. That’s was very thoughtful of you.”

He nodded and they exited the dressing room. “My mother had the caterers pack up some food for us from the reception. Would you like to rest a bit while I go down and get dinner ready?”

“That sounds good,” she said and suddenly realized how tired she was.

“Then you go ahead and relax. I’ll let you know when it’s time to eat.” He kissed her on the forehead and started to leave, only to stop when he reached the end table next to the bed. “I almost forgot. There’s one other thing I brought from your apartment, but I wasn’t sure where to put him.” He pulled open one of the drawers and took out her old battered teddy bear.

“Bentley,” she said and took the stuffed animal he held out to her. She clutched him to her. The worn brown bear had been a Christmas gift she’d received from Ellen and Mick Davidson. She had been six and they had been her foster parents for nearly a year by then. They had wanted to adopt her and had begun the paperwork necessary to make her their little girl. She’d been thrilled. At last she was going to have a family, a real mother and father. She had even begun to call them Mom and Dad. Then, in January, Ellen Davidson had discovered she was pregnant with twins. It had been a miracle. After years of trying and failing, they had given up on having a baby. And now they were having two at once. Of course with two babies of their own on the way, they could no longer afford the expense of an adoption. There was also the problem of needing a bigger house that they couldn’t afford if they had three children. As much as they loved her, the two little babies needed them more. After they had packed her things and driven her back to the orphanage, Ellen Davidson had been crying. So had she, Lily recalled.

“Please. I promise I’ll be good and I won’t eat too much or take up too much room,” Lily sobbed and clung to the woman she had thought would become her mother.

“You are a good girl,” Ellen told her and, taking her by the shoulders, she eased her back. Tears ran down Ellen’s cheeks. “You’re going to be fine, Lily. And Bentley here is going to keep you company. Aren’t you, Bentley? You take care of our Lily until her new parents come, okay?”

Then she handed him to her and Lily clutched the bear to her chest. “What if no one wants me?”

“They will, sweetheart. I promise they will. Before you know it another couple are going to come through that door,