Magnolia. Diana Palmer
Right now, both of us are extra people in the world.”
She hadn’t expected him to say that. She expected coaxing and even a display of passion to make her fall in with his plans. His honesty left her without a defense.
He looked at her slowly, deliberately, until she blushed. One eyebrow lifted slightly. “You might enjoy being married, Claire.”
“If I marry you, it will be—it will be just as friends,” she stammered. “I won’t— That is, I can’t…”
“You can’t share my bed,” he said for her, and the smile grew larger. “All right. We’ll leave it like that. For a while, at least.”
“Forever!” she exclaimed, embarrassed.
“Why, Claire. How red you look!”
“You stop teasing me!” She shifted nervously. “And you must promise.”
He put his hand over his heart. “I promise, most sincerely, that I won’t ask you to do anything that makes you feel compromised. Will that suffice?”
She unbent a little. After all, he was doing her a tremendous favor to offer her the protection of his name and the security of a home.
“I don’t want to be her stand-in, you see,” she mumbled, under her breath.
“I can understand that,” he told her. “I hope that you’ll always be so honest with me. In return, I’ll promise never to lie to you.” His dark eyes were very intent. “I think we’ll get along.”
She sighed wearily. “It seems an unlikely sort of business.”
“Given time, it may prove a blessing for us both. What sort of ring would you like?” he added, with a smile. “And suppose we shock Atlanta by getting married at the end of the month?”
She almost gasped. “The end of the month? It will cause a scandal!”
“Probably, but a nice one.”
“I have no one to give me away.” She nibbled her lower lip and looked up at him, not realizing that she was capitulating. “You have family, surely. Will they want to come?”
“My family lives far away,” he said stiffly, not wanting to tell her why he couldn’t invite them to his wedding. “They won’t be able to come.”
“Oh. I see.” She sighed. “I shall have to walk down the aisle alone.”
He smiled. “You’ll be a lovely bride, Claire. And I promise, it will be a very small wedding. Only the necessary people.”
She didn’t give that another thought, for the moment. Oddly, it never occurred to her just who the necessary people would be…until it was too late.
3
BECAUSE CLAIRE HAD BEEN SO DEVOTED TO HER uncle, and so involved in helping him, she hadn’t tried to make friends of the few other single women in the community. She felt that lack keenly as she was helped to get ready for the wedding ceremony by an excited Gertie. At least she had someone who was “family” at the most exciting event of her young life.
“I wish your uncle could see you now, Miss Claire.” Gertie sighed. “You look pretty as a picture.”
“Of course I do—the veil covers my face!” Claire teased, smiling. She didn’t have a traditional wedding gown. She wore an elaborate white silk-and-lace dress that she’d made for a debutante’s coming out. The debutante had decided at the last minute that she didn’t want it. It was Claire’s size, so she’d kept it for herself. She was glad now that she had. With the addition of a huge white hat with a concealing veil, and the small bouquet of autumn flowers that Gertie had picked for her and threaded with a silver ribbon and white lace, Claire looked the picture of a modern bride.
“That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it,” Gertie scolded. She straightened a fold of the long flaring skirt. “There. You look perfect. Mr. John will be ever so proud.”
“Mr. John” hadn’t looked as if he felt very proud of her when he’d glimpsed her briefly at the front door, Claire thought miserably. For the past three weeks he’d been very attentive and courteous, taking her out to poetry recitals and musical concerts every night. He’d been a charming companion. His affection for her was as evident as it had ever been…but that was all. There was simply nothing more. There had been no kisses, no effort to make their relationship anything more than friendship. And today, when the ceremony was to take place, he suddenly looked haunted. Claire had a sudden fear that he might have second thoughts at the altar—a picture of herself being left there forming in her mind.
“Why, your hands are trembling!” Gertie exclaimed, taking both of them in hers to warm them. “Now, child, don’t get overwrought. Honestly, marriage is very nice. Harry and I have been together for thirty years, and we’ve been so happy. You’ll be happy, too.”
Claire met the gentle, laughing dark eyes evenly. “Yes, but Harry loves you.”
Gertie gnawed on her full lower lip. “Sometimes love comes later.”
“Or not at all,” Claire added, remembering that John had invited his employer—and wife—to the wedding. John might be worried that the gossip about Diane and himself brought some of these people to the wedding out of sheer curiosity. Surely that was what made him look so concerned—not regret for having asked her to marry him! She had to think that he was glad to be marrying her or she’d go mad.
In fact, John was trying not to see Diane, so beautiful in her glorious white-and-black-patterned dress, so elegant. She was smiling, but she looked worn, and her husband wasn’t smiling at all. John had worried about her since the day of Claire’s uncle’s funeral. Eli had been quite brisk with her, and hostile toward him, as if he’d heard the gossip about them and was angry. John had wanted to talk to Diane badly, to find out if she was being mistreated by her husband because of the wild rumors. But he hadn’t dared approach her for fear of making the whole situation worse. But today, she’d detained him at the back of the church while they were momentarily alone. There had been tears in her eyes.
She tugged at his sleeve and coaxed him into an empty room. “I never dreamed you’d actually go through with it. Oh, don’t! Don’t!” she pleaded, clinging to his arms. “John, you simply can’t go through with it! I was wrong. I made a terrible mistake. I admit it freely. I married only to spite you. But what if my marriage were suddenly dissolved and you were tied to Claire? You have to stop the wedding!”
“What are you talking about, Diane?” he asked, holding her tight by both upper arms. “You’re still my friend…”
The fire in his eyes thrilled her. She leaned into his body, giving him all her weight, and lifted her face. “It isn’t friendship I want. I love you!”
His breath caught in his throat. “You said…”
“I lied! I was trying to make the whole terrible situation easier for you, but now I must speak. I must. John, you mustn’t go through with this. I’ll promise anything, anything…if you’ll walk out of the church. Anything, my darling,” she whispered boldly.
He thought he might scream. Her eyes promised heaven, her lips… He bent toward them, pulled by invisible strings. And then he suddenly realized who he was—and who she was—and where they were. He drew away, slowly, reluctantly. Perspiration beaded above his upper lip. “It’s too late,” he bit off.
“No!” she said. “You could walk out!”
“How?” he demanded through his teeth, tormented by the anguish on her lovely face. She loved him. She still loved him! And he was about to be married! “Diane, half of Atlanta is out there. I cannot!”
She looked at him through tears. “I was a fool! Only recently have I realized how much I love you. But there’s no reason for you to ruin your life, as well. John, you don’t love her. You love me!”
“I