Read A British Bride by Agreement Online

Authors: Therese Stenzel

A British Bride by Agreement (29 page)

But as soon as Jonathan could, he strode
off into the dark recesses of the backstage. This was the worst night of his
life.

***

Emma toyed with the food on her plate.
She had no appetite. Out of the corner of her eyes, she kept her parents in her
sights. Occasionally they waved in her direction, but thankfully they hadn’t
made any move toward Mr. and Mrs. Steller who were sitting at the head table
with her.

“Dear,” Mrs. Steller patted her husband
on his hand. “Shouldn’t we make the rounds of the guests before the concert
starts?”

“No,” Emma blurted out. “You haven’t
finished eating. It could be bad for your digestion.”

Mr. Steller squeezed Emma’s shoulder as
he escorted his wife from the table. “Young people have the strangest ideas.”

Emma sipped her diet soda and sunk
deeper into her chair. What would they think of her in a few minutes? She
pressed her eyes shut.
God why aren’t
You
helping me
? Tightness gripped her throat as memories
of
she
and Jonathan’s brief life together flooding
back. Of his gentle smile, his tall good looks, his determination to see the
charity succeed.

She glanced around for him and saw him in
the distance, talking with some invitees. His food sat untouched beside her. If
only there were some way to show him how much she loved him. Pulling her
dessert toward her, she might as well comfort herself with—the tan and brown
dessert came into focus.
Apple Cake?

How had she so quickly forgotten that
she was the apple of God’s eye?

“Did you see Dede?” Mrs. Steller asked
Emma as she led Mrs. Peterson to the head table and sat back down.

Emma stilled.
Her
appetite for dessert suddenly gone.
“No.”

“She’s already showing.”

“Showing like,
pregnant showing?”

“Yes, didn’t Jonathan tell you? I guess
she showed up at his office a week ago to ask his forgiveness and tell him her
good news. I’m so pleased to see things all patched up between them. And now
Tom and Dede are happily married and you and Jonathan are, too.”

Emma shoulder’s wilted as she pressed
her eyes shut. Was she wrong about Jonathan and his old fiancée? But what about
what Nick had said Jonathan and Dede?
Oh,
You’ve
gone and done it now, Duckie.

She rested her head in her hands. All
this time she’d misconstrued… she brushed her bangs away from her eyes and saw
that Jonathan was coming towards her. Unsure of what to do, she shoved several
bites of her apple dessert into her mouth. She had acted cold and distant
toward him all week.
Had assumed the worst.
Had judged him.
She absentmindedly ate the rest of her cake,
scraping the plate clean. “Lord, please help me to show him how much I love him
before he meets my parents and regrets ever knowing me.”

Jonathan sat close beside her as the
lights dimmed, and the orchestra rallied their instruments. The smell of his
new cologne drifted over her and a yearning welled inside of her. Taking in a
breath, she looped her arm through his.

He regarded her with a surprised
expression.

A wave of love rolled through her. She
so wanted to make him happy. To be a good wife to
him,
and she’d gone and mucked it all up. Leaning in, she kissed his warm cheek.

He turned toward her. “I need to tell
you that I lo—”

“Jonathan!” Mrs. Peterson shushed.
“Quiet please.”

He shifted in his seat and tugged on his
tie. He glanced over at Emma and let his gaze rove over her.

Emma’s insides tightened. Had he spoken
with her parents? Did he already know the truth about them? Was that want he
wanted to say? She blinked back tears. How much longer could she wait to know
what he was thinking? She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Long neglect has worn away

Half the sweet enchanting smile;

Time has turned the bloom to gray;

Mold and damp the face defile.

The teen orchestra played on. Among
their other musical highlights was an outstanding interpretation of Mozart's
Clarinet Concerto performed by a young girl who was missing a leg, followed by
two concertos performed by two boys who were little people. The group of young
musicians maintained
a balance between perky
enthusiasm and gentle sensitivity. Even the lines on Jonathan’s forehead eased
a few times as he listened to them play.

The performance of
Bax's
Tintagel
was particularly strong.
But t
he stand-out orchestral performance of the
evening was a compelling, atmospheric account of Delius',
The Walk to the
Paradise Garden
.

Emma glanced at her watch. Only
thirty minutes had passed and the orchestra members were already bowing. They
were wonderful, but the concert had been too short.

As Mrs. Steller clapped, she
leaned over toward Jonathan. “What’s next?”

The panic on Jonathan’s face propelled Emma to her feet.
What could she do?

Jonathan stood and straightened his tie. “I guess I’ll end
the evening.”

As the students exited the stage, a spotlight remained on
the grand piano.

Emma knew what she had to do. She kissed Jonathan lightly
on the cheek. “It’s not over yet.” Heading toward the stage, she lifted her
long dress to step up the steep stairs. As she approached the piano, the
crowd’s murmuring hushed. She could hear the clearing of throats and the
shifting of chairs. Pausing by the piano, she strained to see beyond the bright
lights. “I want to dedicate this performance to my husband, Jonathan Steller,
whom I love with all my heart.”

She swallowed as she sat and set her fingers against the
cool keys.
Play for the
Lord.

For the next forty-five minutes, Emma blocked out all the
pain in her heart, the people gathered, her parents, and focused on pouring out
her gift of music before the Lord.
Each piece coming to her
as if the Holy Spirit himself whispered them to her.
At times, she was
so lost in the music, her heart raced with the joy that came from being in His
presence.

Her last piece, Chopin’s difficult but very melodious Etude
Op.10
no.
4.,
filled the
auditorium with its pleasing sounds. At the last plink of the piano, she
allowed her arms to rest.

The roar of the applauding crowd sounded almost instantly.
Emma’s gaze swept over the standing, cheering throng, but her eyes didn’t stop
roving until they had found Jonathan. Her heart thrilled at seeing the
astonished look on his face as he clapped furiously. She had shown him her
love. At least he had this moment and could know how she felt before her
parents ruined the evening.

Emma bowed to their praise, but inside her soul had praise
only for God, who had released her from her panic and given her a way to express
her love for Jonathan. “Thank you, Lord.”

***

Jonathan stood amidst the other attendees, clapping as hard
as he could, still in awe of what his wife had done. She had faced her greatest
fear for him. She loved him. But what about the hidden plane tickets and
passing envelopes? Her parent’s being swindlers? Could it all have been some
kind of misunderstanding? Hope soared in his heart, but before he could help
Emma down the front steps the stage, his father ambled up to the microphone.

“Ladies and gentleman, my daughter-in-law,
Emma Steller.”
The swell of the
clapping again filled the auditorium for several minutes. “I am so proud of
her. She has been an amazing blessing to our family and we all love her.”

Emma nodded and bowed again, but her gaze faltered.

Love for her welled in Jonathan’s chest. It was all he
could manage, not to rush the stage and take her into his arms.

“I also want to introduce my son, Jonathan Steller, who as
the new director for Steller Charity has planned this evening and has done a
wonderful job. And I am so proud of him.”

Jonathan squirmed at his father’s
unfamiliar, kind words.
                                           

“Come on up, Jonathan.”

Jonathan made his way to the stage, his gaze fixed on Emma.
He wasn’t going to wait another minute. When he slipped his arms around her
silken dress to kiss her, the crowd laughed and cheered some more. His lips
savored the taste of her. His heart swelled with emotion. “I love you, Emma.”

Emma’s eyes filled with tears. “You do?”

He shook his head. How could she have not known? “I do
and—”

“I also want to introduce,” Jonathan’s father continued,
“Emma’s mother and father, Mr. and Mrs. Waterhouse, who came all the way from
England.” Mr. Steller gestured for them to stand.

But instead of joy, Emma’s face fell and she pulled away
from Jonathan’s embrace and scurried for the back stage area.

Jonathan’s feet were rooted to the ground. Why would she
say she loved him and then leave? Was she upset her parents were here?

“Let’s hear a few words from the charities’ new director.”
His father stepped away from the microphone. The crowd hushed.

Blood pounding in his temples, Jonathan paced up to the
podium and squinted at the glare of the bright lights unsure of what to say.
Despite the shock of what just happened, he wouldn’t let the charity suffer.

“Now that our entertainment is done for the evening, we
would like for you to consider helping us financially. Tonight, many people
across our state and even across
oceans,
are depending
on the generosity of the people in this room.” He paused.
Lord
help
me here
. “I want to let you know
that the charity had been scammed out of thousands of dollars this year by some
unscrupulous men, but it was my fault for not checking facts more carefully.
And I’ve realized that I have a lot to learn about caring for the people we
help and how to best spend the charities’ money in a responsible manner. I
freely admit to you, I’ve made many mistakes since taking over, but I’ve
learned the importance of looking to God for my future and the future of our
foundation.” His head dipped briefly. “I’ve found He’s very good about dealing
with hearts that need a lot of work.”

He stepped away amidst applause he didn’t deserve, anxious
to find Emma. But before he got far, his father stepped up to the mike. “And my
son will be at the foot of the stairs to answer any questions you have about
our foundation.”

Wooden feet led Jonathan back down the steps. All he wanted
to do was race after Emma, but instead for the next thirty minutes, he shook
hands, answered questions, posed for pictures until his jaw ached from his
forced smile. Each minute his heart was dying.

Suddenly his father came up to him and whispered in his
ear. “I’ve discovered some very disturbing news about Emma’s father. I think we
should talk about it now.”

Jonathan could feel his body sweating. Every goal he’d ever
had—career, marriage, love, children was falling away from him.

***

Emma listened from the side of the stage, her heart
swelling with pride in all that Jonathan shared. He was a good man. But could
he abide discovering who her father was? She couldn’t endure watching it. She
turned to leave and go home, but once at the car, she discovered she had left
her purse at the table with her diamond watch inside.

Scurrying back into the theater, passed the remaining fifty
or so guests still lingering, she snatched up her bag and headed for an exit.
But out of the corner of her eyes, she saw her parents approach Jonathan. Her
breath caught in her throat.

“I know all about you, sir, and from what I’ve read, I
think you should head back to England.” Jonathan spoke evenly to them as if
holding back anger.

Mr. Waterhouse nodded. “I deserve that. But like you, God
is changing my heart. I want to assure you that my wife and I are making a
fresh start with our business.” He pulled out an envelope. “Emma gave this
money to us, but we don’t think
it’s
right for her to
give it to us without your approval.”

Emma felt sick to his stomach. How dare he? She paced over
to him to snatch that envelope back, when Jonathan’s words halted her steps.

“My wife would never deceive me.”

A rush of tenderness tingled down to her toes. Never had
she loved Jonathan more than in that moment. Slowly she came up beside him and
took his hand in hers. Without looking at her, Jonathan squeezed it.

Nick reached over and took the envelope. “I’ll just hold
onto this for Uncle Hans.”

“I think,” Jonathan snatched it back. “That you’ve done
enough for the Steller Corporation. I don’t know what you are up to, but I have
a first class ticket to Germany being delivered to your apartment tonight. Go
home for a long visit.”

“But Uncle Hans—”

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