Morgan's Child (24 page)

"Wouldn't it take longer than that? Wouldn't the adoption have to be final before we got the divorce?"

"Yes, I suppose the adoption would have to be final," he said in a subdued tone.

"So then we could be married, but I wouldn't expect a lifetime commitment. It would be with the understanding that we end our marriage as soon as I can find a job or as soon as the adoption is final, whichever comes first." This sounded reasonable, rational. Morgan would have to see the sense in it.

"Is that the way you'd want it?" he asked.

"I'll resume my career as soon as possible. I have a lot to contribute to oyster research, and the work is important."

"More important than being a Rhett?" he said.

"More important than spending my life going to teas and balls," she retorted.

"I see. When would we be married, according to your plan?" he asked.

"Soon. Whenever you want," she said, forcing herself to sound as though the whole matter was of negligible importance to her.

"We could be married in a few days?"

"Certainly."

"I suppose," Morgan said, "that we could be married as soon as we can arrange a license."

"That would be fine," she said. Her hand of its own volition reached out and tipped the hairs on his arm with one finger, but he didn't respond. Instead he stood and found his shoes on the closet floor, sitting on a low chair to put them on.

"This is most generous of you, but before we compound all the mistakes that have already been made, I'd better consult my attorney," he said at last, standing up and gazing down at her, his expression unreadable.

"Yes," she said. She hoped he would touch her, and she wished he'd kiss her. Their closeness seemed to have evaporated at the very time when she thought he should be happy. She was doing what he wanted, wasn't she? She had agreed to marry him, hadn't she?

Morgan stood in front of the mirror to knot his tie. She watched from the bed as he put on his suit jacket. The wing tips were back, and he looked every bit the upscale executive. He was no longer the loving Morgan who had so tenderly bedded her, or the supportive Morgan who had accompanied her to Preacher's Inlet to confront Willadeen Pribble. He seemed like a Morgan Rhett whom she hardly knew.

"You look ready for business," she told him, forcing a smile.

"Hmm," was all he said. "I wonder where I put my briefcase? Oh, here it is. Well, I'll see you later. I should be back in time for dinner."

"Would you like me to cook something?" she called after him as he hurried down the hall.

She didn't know whether he heard or was merely ignoring her. In a few moments she heard the front door close after him.

* * *

Morgan closeted himself in his office away from the inquisitive eyes of Lavinia and the other women who worked for him. His expression serious, he punched out a series of numbers on his phone.

Tony Saldone was not at the hotel in Maine where Morgan knew he was staying, but Morgan left word with the operator for Tony to call him. While he waited for the phone call, Morgan tried not to think about Kate.

It was impossible to keep her out of his mind. Last night he hadn't been able to get enough of her long legs twining around his, her softly caressing fingers, the unrestrained passion of making love with a woman who was so totally sensual. How she had gone for three years without a man was beyond him.

And now she had agreed to marry him.

After Courtney's coldness, Kate's warmth was like a breath of spring arriving on the heels of a long, miserable winter. The thought of lying in bed beside Kate every night for the rest of his life literally made his heart leap with joy.

But she wanted a divorce as soon as possible.

He paced the length of his office, waiting for the phone to ring. Would Kate marry him if it weren't for the baby?

No. She had made it clear that she didn't love him. Although he could have sworn that during the past few nights, all the time that she was making of herself a splendid gift, all the times that he was throbbing to the beat of her heart, he could have sworn that—

The phone rang and he yanked it out of its cradle.

"Morgan Rhett," he said.

"You won't believe what that Penelope chick told me last night. It's all settled. The FHF will issue a report in a couple of weeks. It exonerates the Sinclair woman from all wrongdoing. Penelope says—"

"You mean Kate will be reinstated at the Northeast Marine Institute?" Morgan said, sinking down onto the chair behind his desk.

"Penelope says it's inevitable. She tells me that the report lambastes the director of the institute and the coworker of Kate's who falsified data, uh, let's see, his name is Mitchell Robbins. It recommends that the director resign and discredits this Robbins fellow."

"And when will news of this become public?" Morgan said faintly.

"Couple of weeks is all I know. I'll stay on the case."

"No," Morgan said. "You can come home now. I don't need to know anything else."

"You're sure about that? I kinda like Maine in the summer. And Penelope is quite—cooperative."

"Come home, Tony. You've earned your pay."

"I'll send you a written report in a few days," Tony said.

When Morgan hung up, he consulted his calendar. In a day or so, he and Kate could be married. It would be a mutually beneficial union—he would support her until she found a job, she would stay married to him until the adoption was final. A neat deal for both of them, and Morgan considered himself a genius at making deals.

But would she still marry him if she knew that her exoneration and reinstatement at the institute were imminent?

Maybe yes. Maybe no.

Which was, in the end, exactly why he decided not to tell her.

* * *

Kate had dinner waiting when he got back to Teoway Island. He kissed her, a lukewarm kind of kiss, and when she speared him with a quizzical look, he made some excuse about getting out of his suit and putting on more comfortable clothes. He then fled to the bedroom.

It was hard to face Kate knowing what he did about her job situation. It was going to be difficult not to tell her, but somewhere in the back of his mind was the notion that if she married him, they'd be so happy that she wouldn't leave him. She would stay on after the baby was born and give up her idea of resuming a career that, as far as she knew, was defunct.

He didn't broach the subject until after dinner when they were relaxing on the deck, her feet pillowed in his lap so he could massage them. Kate leaned back, one arm around the globe of her belly, the other behind her head. She toyed with a strand of fine golden hair, and he felt a lump in his throat just looking at her. She was so lovely and precious to him.

Didn't she know that he couldn't help being in love with her? Didn't she love him just a little?

He cleared his throat. "I checked into a marriage license today. We can be married on Friday," he said.

"Where?" she asked, turning her face toward him.

"I have a friend who is a judge. He can marry us in his chambers."

"Good," Kate said, although that kind of wedding sounded so cold. So sterile.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course," she said.

He led her to bed then, removing her clothes as she stood quietly, admiring the intricate lacing of blue veins beneath her skin before reverently massaging the sensitive dark tips of her nipples until they rose between his fingers. He slid his hands down to cup her abdomen and felt the stirring of his child; it moved him so much that he couldn't speak. When he finally wrapped Kate in his arms he rocked her silently, unable to express his emotion.

In the dark her eyes were large and glowing, and in bed she was especially inventive, and he thought that if she was this way when she was pregnant, she would be even better when she was not.

And when she was no longer pregnant, they would have how long? How long before Kate got her old job back and left him?

He had married Courtney for all the wrong reasons, and he knew that the reason he was marrying Kate was wrong, too. Oh, it was true that by marrying Kate he could avoid taking Courtney to court, but he was hoping to use the marriage to convince Kate to stay with him. It might not work; in fact, he was sure it wouldn't. But he had to try, because—heaven help him—he loved her.

* * *

On Friday they were married.

Kate felt a sense of unreality about the whole thing. The judge spoke in resounding tones, lending dignity to the occasion, and Morgan was handsome in his dark blue suit and highly polished shoes. He looked directly into her eyes as he spoke his wedding vows and said them as if he meant them.

Kate felt graceless and dowdy in her hastily bought white pique dress with a collar of lace cutwork, a dress she wouldn't have worn under any circumstances in her other life, where she felt most comfortable in shorts and T-shirts.

She also wore a painful new pair of pumps with medium-high heels. They, like the dress, had been Joanna's idea. Joanna insisted on taking her shopping on Thursday morning, dragging an unwilling Kate into a shop called Baby Chic, or maybe it was Baby Chick. It had all happened so fast that Kate didn't remember. She was relieved when Joanna pronounced her adorable and she could stop trying on dresses.

Her bouquet had been supplied by Morgan and was a tasteful and expensive cascade of white orchids. He also gave her an unexpected wedding gift of a lovely diamond-and-pearl pin, which she wore on her collar.

"Is it real?" she had asked when he'd presented it to her, and Morgan had laughed.

"Of course," he said.

"Oh," she'd replied, embarrassed. In Morgan's set, it was a given that jewelry was always the real thing, not costume. She'd have to remember that she was a Rhett now—at least, she was a technical member of the Rhett family. She planned to keep her own name. It would make it so much easier when she and Morgan were divorced not to have to change her driver's license, passport and other documents back to her birth name.

At the end of the ceremony, when the judge said gravely to Morgan, "You may kiss the bride," Kate almost looked around to see who the bride was. Then Morgan folded her in his arms, taking his time about it, and kissed her warmly and thoroughly and with just a hint of passion that Kate hoped no one else in the room noticed.

"Congratulations!" Charlie, Joanna's husband, said, clapping Morgan on the back. For Kate he had a quick kiss on the cheek, as did Joanna, and then Joanna put her arm through Kate's and said, "Now for your wedding feast!"

The four of them went back to Joanna and Charlie's house and sat down to a sumptuous repast of Cornish game hens reposing on a bed of wild rice and served on a big heirloom silver platter that looked to Kate to be about the size of the skating rink at Rockefeller Center. In fact, Kate found the big dining room with its long sideboard and pictures of hunt scenes on the walls intimidating, and the conversation was stilted despite Morgan's valiant attempts to make it a festive evening.

Throughout the dinner, Kate, still suspended in an aura of disbelief, kept sneaking glances at the lovely wedding band Morgan had chosen for her. It had been a complete surprise, Morgan producing it this afternoon before the ceremony. Kate's eyes had grown wide when he snapped the little velvet box open to show her.

"I didn't think—I mean, I forgot—" she stammered.

"We can't get married without a ring," Morgan said. "I tried to choose one you'd like."

"It's beautiful," she said, thinking it was exactly what she would have chosen for herself. It was a heavy gold band, extremely wide, and deeply carved in an elaborate leaf-and-circle design that reminded Kate of loops of sargassum seaweed. It was perfect for her finger, and now she clasped her hand around it protectively. She, who never wore jewelry, who in fact owned no valuable pieces, would treasure this.

When at last dinner was over and they were in the car driving back to Morgan's house, Morgan said, "I'm glad that's over, aren't you?"

Kate stared straight ahead. She wished they were going back to Yaupon Island or even to Morgan's house on Teoway instead of staying in the city. She stole a look at Morgan, wondering if it was too late to suggest that they drive to Teoway Island tonight. It would take less than forty-five minutes to get there.

"I'm tired. How about you?" Morgan asked her.

"A little," she said, and decided against suggesting Teoway.

"How's the baby?" he asked, resting one hand on her abdomen.

"Practicing punting," Kate said, perhaps too brightly.

"I hope it's not
too
wide awake. Didn't I hear you get up several times last night?"

Kate glanced at Morgan's face as it was momentarily illuminated by the streetlight at the corner when they turned into the driveway of the Tradd Street house. He looked subdued and not quite himself. Maybe all this was more of a strain on him than she realized. Maybe he was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that he had actually married Kate Sinclair, marine biologist without a job, a person who had never been to a St. Cecilia's Ball in her life and who was so unimpressed with the Rhett name that she refused to use it.