“Was she, Mrs. Ballintine? I can’t understand why,” Adam said politely, black brows raised.
“You disappeared so suddenly, dear boy. Donna was most upset—parties and things you were both invited to, you know.”
“I’m sure a beautiful girl like Donna didn’t lack for an escort, Mrs. Ballintine,” he challenged coolly.
“Well, of course not,” she said, turning back and looking Molly over from head to feet. “Why, Molly, you look quite . . . pretty, but we are going to have to do something about your hair. I do wish I could have taken you to my hairdresser before the wedding. A good cut and styling would do wonders for you.” Her voice was warm and kind, but to Molly’s sensitive ears it was belittling.
Hurt pride lifted her chin. She opened her mouth and closed it again. She was no match for Aunt Dora.
For an instant a caustic look came over Adam’s face, then it softened as his arm went around the slender girl beside him and he drew her close.
“I think my wife is enchanting,” he said softly, smiling down at her. “This lovely hair will stay just as it is as long as I have anything to say about it.”
Molly tilted her head to meet his gaze, her heart soared. How wonderful to have someone defend her, if only out of duty.
“I didn’t mean . . . oh, here’s Donna. Dee was unable to make it, but Donna canceled everything to come.”
Aunt Dora’s eyes brightened as she saw her daughter framed in the doorway, as if posed for a picture, waiting to catch every eye before she made her entrance. No doubt about it, she was beautiful. Tall, slim, vivid blue eyes, silver hair, and beautifully dressed. Crossing the room with a studied grace, she came forward with hands outstretched; she had eyes only for Adam.
“Adam!” The soft husky voice breathed his name. “I couldn’t imagine what had happened to you.” Big blue eyes misty with emotion looked pleadingly at him.
“I’ve been busy, Donna. Busy getting married to your cousin,” Adam said evenly. “Are you going to congratulate me and my bride?”
The girl’s lips tightened ever so slightly and she stood still for a moment and stared at him.
“Congratulations, Molly.”
The blue eyes that turned on Molly told her that she was in love with Adam and she hated her with every fiber of her being. Molly glanced at Aunt Dora and was surprised to see her looking back at her with actual dislike on her face.
Wouldn’t they be pleased if they knew the truth about this marriage,
Molly mused.
They’ll never, never know, if I can possibly help it.
A passionate protest was building inside her. It was impossible not to grasp the implications of the relationship between her cousin and her new husband. He looked so handsome, tall, and sophisticated. It was almost disheartening to see him and her lovely cousin standing side by side. They looked so right together; so worldly, so polished. She felt dowdy, small, and insignificant beside them. Donna leaned forward and kissed Adam on the lips.
“Darling, do excuse Mother and me,” she said huskily and swirled away from them in a sea of chiffon, only a trace of her perfume lingering.
The meeting with Aunt Dora and Donna almost completely unnerved Molly and the next half hour was spent in an agony of self-consciousness. Someone handed her another glass of champagne which she drank too fast, and when they were ready to leave the reception, her head was really in a whirl.
“My father is anxious to meet his new daughter-in-law,” Adam said as they were leaving. “We’re staying with him for a few days before we go north to the cabin. Come and see us. But wait a few weeks!” They left amid laughter and good wishes.
“Lord have mercy!” Adam exclaimed as they made their way to the parked car. “I’m glad to get out of there.”
Molly was grateful for the strong arm that hurried her along. He glanced at her only briefly as he slid under the wheel and eased the car into the stream of traffic.
She leaned her head back against the soft cushions of the seat and let her mind wander over the events of the day. Oh, to be back in the house by the lake! How much longer would she have to keep up this nerve-racking pretense? The reception was over, and she had one more obstacle to face before the blessed quiet of the country. She must meet Adam’s father and convince him she was in love with his son. She owed Adam that after the way he stood by her through the meeting with Aunt Dora and Donna. Somehow she knew that her aunt and her cousin would never forgive her for marrying Adam. Their opinion wasn’t important to her, but Adam’s was. They would be spending a lot of time together this year and it was only sensible not to antagonize each other. She had learned a lot about the man she had married.
No wonder he didn’t want to marry me,
she thought.
I’m not his type at all. It must have been a bitter pill for him to swallow to have to introduce me to his friends. When this year is over, we’ll go our separate ways. I’ll not depend on him too much—I’ll stand on my own feet. It’s the way it’ll be from now on.
Adam looked down at the girl beside him.
No confidence in herself,
he thought.
Fresh and beautiful, unaffected and untouched. God, how many men do I know that would like to get their hands on her? I’ll have to be careful and not get involved. Family life isn’t for me. At the end of the year I’m taking off as planned. I shouldn’t have kissed her.
He didn’t know why he did it except she was so . . . sweet . . .
“Shall we drive around a bit before we go to meet my father?”
She sat up straight in the seat and looked at him earnestly.
“I’ll not let you down, Adam. I appreciate you standing by me when I met Aunt Dora.”
With a twinkle in his dark eyes he said, “I see now that marrying me was the lesser of two evils.”
“Believe it or not, I could have stood for Aunt Dora having control of my money, but I couldn’t stand by and see my father’s files destroyed,” she said with spirit.
“Neither will happen now. We’ll get through this year together and try not to get involved in each other’s private life. When we break, a year from today, it will be as friends.” He smiled at her. “Don’t worry about Dad,” he continued. “He’s going to be in seventh heaven when he meets you. You’re the answer to his prayers for me. Just be yourself and he’ll love you. Try and make him believe you love me just a little and he’ll be happy.”
“I’ll try.” She smiled at him as if they were sharing some huge joke.
He drove into an underground parking area, angled the car into the area marked Reneau, and turned off the motor.
“My father lives on the top floor of this building,” he said as they left the car. “He has a heart condition and never leaves the apartment. His sister, my Aunt Flo, lives with him. This has been a very exciting day for them, knowing I was getting married and bringing my wife to meet them.”
“We’ll be spending the night?”
“No. I’ve an apartment on the floor below. We’ll stay there.”
The color flooded her cheeks and she despised herself for being so self-conscious.
“You’ll have to get used to being alone with me,” he murmured consolingly.
She took a deep steadying breath. “I know.”
Adam unlocked a door and they stepped into a private elevator. Pushing one of the two buttons, he said by way of explanation: “This elevator stops only on Dad’s floor and mine.”
The car slid smoothly to a halt and the door opened. A wave of apprehension passed over Molly. She looked up at Adam and he smiled reassuringly. They stepped out into a room that was surprisingly quaint and homey. A small birdlike figure hurried toward them. The lined face beneath the iron gray hair was wreathed in smiles. She looked as Molly always pictured a storybook grandmother would look. Even before she spoke the tension went out of Molly and she met her outstretched hands.
“Molly, my dear.” She was obviously almost moved to tears.
Molly reacted instantly to the warm greeting from this gentle lady and kissed her on the cheek.
“Hello, Aunt Flo.” Adam’s amused voice was low and gentle. “Have you no greeting for me?”
“Oh, Adam, you bad boy! Why have you waited so long to bring her to us?” She reached up to kiss his cheek and he leaned down and gave her an affectionate hug.
“I told you she was worth waiting for, Aunt Flo. Now wasn’t I right?”
“Yes, you were right for once, you rascal. But come, Robert is waiting and anxious to meet your bride.” She led the way to a door at the end of the room and moved aside to allow them to enter.
“This is one of his better days, Adam. Take her in.” She smiled at Molly and squeezed her hand.
Adam’s father was in a rolling chair by the window. His penetrating gaze looked her over. How like Adam; the same dark, forbidding countenance and piercing black eyes. His hair was wispy and gray, and the lines in his face showed age and suffering. There was no evidence in his expression of the anxiety Aunt Flo had spoken about, but his frail hands worked nervously with the blanket that covered his knees. Adam urged her forward, slipping an arm around her shoulders.
“Father,” he said in a low voice and there was an almost miraculous change in his expression as he looked down at the lined face. “This is Molly.”
The silence that followed could be felt, tense and profound. Two large tears rolled down the old man’s cheeks and fell on the blanket. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Suddenly he seemed to be very weary. The sight moved Molly deeply, her violet eyes went to Adam imploringly, then she dropped on her knees beside the chair.
“You’re not pleased?” she asked with trembling lips, her eyes swimming with tears.
The old man raised a hand and drew her head down on his lap. His thin hand stroked the blond hair. Molly was vaguely aware that Adam had produced a handkerchief and wiped his father’s eyes.
“Is it true, Adam,” the shaky voice asked, “you and this girl are married?”
“Quite true, Father. Molly and I were married this afternoon.” The positive voice had an effect on the old man. He gave the blond head a final pat and sighed deeply.
Molly raised her head.
“You have my blessing.” The black eyes gazed into Molly’s and she met them unflinchingly. “Give me your hand, daughter.” She obeyed, feeling strangely close to this frail old man who was so like Adam.
“My son is a lucky man, but you are lucky too. Don’t forget that. He is the best of his mother and me.” He looked fondly at Adam. “There is no finer man than my son.”
Molly took the old man’s hand and held it to her cheek. The depth of devotion between these two men was incredible, and it was wonderful to see. He had accepted her as a mate for his son. A feeling of complete tranquility settled over her. She sank down on the floor by his knee.
Adam pulled up a chair. Molly could tell that he was pleased with the way his father had warmed to her.
“Now tell me, Adam, how did this come about? How did you persuade this lovely child to marry you?” Molly noted, with satisfaction, the strength that came back in the old man’s voice.
Adam told his father the story about the wedding being brought forward due to Charlie’s death. Molly was fascinated at his expert handling of the affair. The most amazing thing was that he had not told his father a lie.
What followed was a very pleasant half hour. Molly smiled easily, her eyes going from one man to the other. They included her in their conversation and for the first time since her father’s death she had a feeling of belonging. She had an odd premonition, that whatever difficulties lay ahead, she would be glad she had brought peace to this gentle old man who had so little time to live.
After a while Adam excused himself, saying he would see if Molly’s cases had been brought over from the hotel, but he would be back, because they were dining with his father and Aunt Flo. He took Molly’s hand, pulled her to her feet, and folded her in his arms. Tenderly, he kissed the corner of her mouth. Molly felt a heady sensation coursing through her body. It was exhilarating, yet disturbing too. Unaware that her eyes were following him as he walked to the door, he left the room.
Molly looked down at Mr. Reneau who was watching her intently.
“You love him, girl?” he asked softly.
Without hesitation, Molly nodded her head. “Yes, I do, very much.” Her lips trembled as the words came out.
“Ah . . . ,” the old man sighed and settled back in his chair, his face serene.
They talked of many things. It was relaxing here in this room high above the busy street. She told him about the house in the bush and her dog named Dog. He laughed with her about that. She told him of Tim-Two and the moose he hunted each year, of the jars of jam and jellies she canned, and promised on the next trip she would bring him a jar of each along with a loaf of homemade bread to spread them on.
He told her about Adam as a small boy. His determination to win each contest he was in, his stubbornness when he thought he was in the right, his deep desire to be accepted for himself alone and not for his money. He also told her of his grief following the death of his mother when he was a lad of twelve. The old man’s eyes glowed when he talked of his son.
Molly felt a small nagging guilt at the deception of their marriage. She was glad she had told the old man she loved Adam. It had come out of her so suddenly and it seemed so right to say it. Adam would never know; she and the old man would share the secret.
The elderly man took his place at the head of the table that evening; Molly on his right, his son on the left. The delicious meal was served by the white-coated man called Ganson. It was obvious servant and master were equally fond of each other. Her eyes misted and the lump in her throat almost choked her when her new father-in-law invited the household help into the dining room to toast his “lovely new daughter.” Adam was pleased, his dark eyes going from her to his father.
Later he whispered they should depart, because they would be expected to want to be alone. Molly took her leave of Aunt Flo, then went to the old man’s chair. Leaning down, she placed her young cheek against the wrinkled one and whispered in his ear that she was pleased he had accepted her. He turned his head and placed a kiss on her smooth brow and squeezed her hand.