Laurel: Bride of Arkansas (American Mail-Order Bride 25) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Carra Copelin
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Saga, Family Life, Western, Short-Story, Massachusetts, Religious, Christian, Inspirational, Bachelor, goals, Marriage of Convenience, Faith, father, Philadelphia, society, stranger, victorian era, tornado, Arkansas, Forever Love, Single Woman, farmer, Fifth In Series, Fifty-Books, Forty-Five Authors, Newspaper Ad, American Mail-Order Bride, Factory Burned, Pioneer, Threats, Two Children, Common Ground, Wife Deceased
guests to stop by after the ceremony so I can meet a few of the residents.”
“Well, that’s—”
“Very nice, Griffin.” She gave him a pointed look, telling him to understand Tildie’s grand gesture. It was the first one of their life together as a married couple.
“Maybe we should finish up here and go back to the hotel,” he suggested.
“No, I think I just overheated in the closeness of the room.” She didn’t dare tell him it was her nerves and the reality of the moment that started her heart racing or that his kiss stole her breath. She didn’t know him yet, but refused to allow him that kind of power over her. “I want to stay.”
“You’re sure?” he persisted.
“Yes, I’m fine.” She’d avoided his gaze, afraid he might be laughing at her but, when she looked up at him, he wasn’t even smiling. Was he upset with her? Did he think her weak and possibly unable to handle her end of their bargain?
“Well then, Mrs. Benning, may I escort you to the garden?” He held out his arm.
She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow to allow him to escort her outside to the reception and her initial exposure to the women of Flat Rock Point. Raised in Philadelphia society, this was what she’d been trained to do. She wouldn’t embarrass her new husband.
“Thank you, Mr. Benning, I’m ready.”
***
Griffin stood talking to Avery Baker, president of the bank, Aaron Bradford, owner of the hotel, and Jasper Dunlevey, who ran the livery. They were a few of the men who’d managed to come to the reception with their wives. His loggers, and close friends, were on the barge taking the company’s logs to New Orleans. Which is where he should be right now, instead of standing in the middle of all the frills and frippery of a wedding.
He caught site of his bride surrounded by a gaggle of nosey women. Polly Baker, Agnes Bradford, and Georgia Dunlevey, among the ones wanting to know why he’d chosen to marry a stranger from back East when he could have chosen one of the eligible women here in town. First and foremost was the Widow Jenkins, who’d used every obvious ploy available to try and get him to marry her. Even now, thinking about her ploys caused a chill to creep up his spine.
Laurel nodded and he realized he’d been staring. She seemed all right after her episode in the parlor, but he couldn’t help wondering if she’d been truly distressed or had she been playing him? Was she like Ora Lee, who’d used all her feminine wiles to trick and deceive him from their first encounter? Time would tell, he just hoped she showed her true nature sooner than later.
After a while, he noticed she stood alone sipping her punch. He turned back to Aaron and Jasper. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ll join my wife.”
When he reached her side, he slipped his arm around her waist, checked his pocket watch, and said, “I’ve had enough of this fun for one day. How about you?”
“Oh yes,” she answered quickly. “I’m just about talked out. Can we get away without hurting Tildie’s feelings or calling attention to ourselves?”
“It’s all right, everyone understands newlyweds wanting to be by themselves.”
She stopped suddenly, refusing to move any further. Head lowered, her eyes darted around the garden area. “Shhh,” she hissed. “Someone might hear you.”
All of a sudden, something came over him and he grinned. “Come along, Mrs. Benning, it’s time to turn in at the hotel.” Her neck and cheeks turned a blotchy crimson, the same color as the sash on her dress. With the flat of his hand, he ushered her toward the gate that led to the front walk and, waving, he said, “Thank you, Owen and Tildie, for a lovely evening. Goodnight everyone.”
Laurel found herself wanting to run from the yard, such was her mortification. What was he doing? He’d purposely embarrassed her and he’d been so nice until now. All the way back to their room, she pondered the
“Well, that’s—”
“Very nice, Griffin.” She gave him a pointed look, telling him to understand Tildie’s grand gesture. It was the first one of their life together as a married couple.
“Maybe we should finish up here and go back to the hotel,” he suggested.
“No, I think I just overheated in the closeness of the room.” She didn’t dare tell him it was her nerves and the reality of the moment that started her heart racing or that his kiss stole her breath. She didn’t know him yet, but refused to allow him that kind of power over her. “I want to stay.”
“You’re sure?” he persisted.
“Yes, I’m fine.” She’d avoided his gaze, afraid he might be laughing at her but, when she looked up at him, he wasn’t even smiling. Was he upset with her? Did he think her weak and possibly unable to handle her end of their bargain?
“Well then, Mrs. Benning, may I escort you to the garden?” He held out his arm.
She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow to allow him to escort her outside to the reception and her initial exposure to the women of Flat Rock Point. Raised in Philadelphia society, this was what she’d been trained to do. She wouldn’t embarrass her new husband.
“Thank you, Mr. Benning, I’m ready.”
***
Griffin stood talking to Avery Baker, president of the bank, Aaron Bradford, owner of the hotel, and Jasper Dunlevey, who ran the livery. They were a few of the men who’d managed to come to the reception with their wives. His loggers, and close friends, were on the barge taking the company’s logs to New Orleans. Which is where he should be right now, instead of standing in the middle of all the frills and frippery of a wedding.
He caught site of his bride surrounded by a gaggle of nosey women. Polly Baker, Agnes Bradford, and Georgia Dunlevey, among the ones wanting to know why he’d chosen to marry a stranger from back East when he could have chosen one of the eligible women here in town. First and foremost was the Widow Jenkins, who’d used every obvious ploy available to try and get him to marry her. Even now, thinking about her ploys caused a chill to creep up his spine.
Laurel nodded and he realized he’d been staring. She seemed all right after her episode in the parlor, but he couldn’t help wondering if she’d been truly distressed or had she been playing him? Was she like Ora Lee, who’d used all her feminine wiles to trick and deceive him from their first encounter? Time would tell, he just hoped she showed her true nature sooner than later.
After a while, he noticed she stood alone sipping her punch. He turned back to Aaron and Jasper. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’ll join my wife.”
When he reached her side, he slipped his arm around her waist, checked his pocket watch, and said, “I’ve had enough of this fun for one day. How about you?”
“Oh yes,” she answered quickly. “I’m just about talked out. Can we get away without hurting Tildie’s feelings or calling attention to ourselves?”
“It’s all right, everyone understands newlyweds wanting to be by themselves.”
She stopped suddenly, refusing to move any further. Head lowered, her eyes darted around the garden area. “Shhh,” she hissed. “Someone might hear you.”
All of a sudden, something came over him and he grinned. “Come along, Mrs. Benning, it’s time to turn in at the hotel.” Her neck and cheeks turned a blotchy crimson, the same color as the sash on her dress. With the flat of his hand, he ushered her toward the gate that led to the front walk and, waving, he said, “Thank you, Owen and Tildie, for a lovely evening. Goodnight everyone.”
Laurel found herself wanting to run from the yard, such was her mortification. What was he doing? He’d purposely embarrassed her and he’d been so nice until now. All the way back to their room, she pondered the
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