A British Bride by Agreement Read online

  Emma wanted to ask him about his former fiancée, but as soon as the chauffeured car pulled away from the estate, Jonathan’s cell phone rang. “This will only take a minute.”

  While he was distracted, Emma stared at his darkened profile. It was strong, resolute, determined like its owner. As he talked, his fingers caressed her hand. She closed her eyes and savored the intimate sensation. Her mouth dry, she longed for him to kiss her again. He hadn’t since their honeymoon.

  She laid her head back on the head rest. Jet lag was taking its toll, and it had been a busy day. And tomorrow, she had a tea and then a luncheon to attend with her sisters-in-law. Would her days always be so consumed with social events? She hoped not. She wished she could have more time with Jonathan. Did he miss spending every day together as they had on their honeymoon? As they pulled through the main gate at the house, he offered another apologetic wave and continued with his call. Perhaps he didn’t miss her at all.

  Disappointment welled in her throat. She had to remember, she was a wife by agreement, not a wife chosen by love.

  ***

  At two a.m., Jonathan pushed back the papers he’d been reading and rubbed his eyes. Every night since he’d been back from Munich, he’d worked all day, attended important business dinners, and then gone back to work until the wee hours of the morning. By Emma’s disappointed tone at the last of the three events they’d attended, his long hours at work were already hurting her. But she needed to understand, the most important thing in his life was the family business. Living up to the expectations of being a Steller, so that one day he could take the company over. His whole adult life, his career had come first and always would.

  He arched his aching back, resigned to going home. He scooped the papers on the Belize Children’s Orphanage and tucked them in a file. Not only did the orphanage not exist, but the man who had claimed to be the director had disappeared with the funds the Steller charity had given him. Jonathan met with the company lawyers and they had a few of their contacts in Belize looking to see if he could be traced. But even if the money was recovered, Jonathan had a lot to answer for. This charity was harder to run than he thought. His mind slipped back to earlier in the day, when he’d met his first real client…

  “Ms. Garrison from the Kinder AIDS Group is here to see you.” Geraldine stood in his doorway.

  Jonathan stared at her. He wasn’t ready for this. He let out a sigh. “Doesn’t Nick take care of the face-to-face encounters?”

  “Mr. Steller, we all try to meet with the clients. Nick isn’t here any mor, and you’re the one she wants to speak with.”

  “Remind me again who she is.”

  “Anita Garrison is the head of a local AIDS organization for children. She’s very passionate about the needs of the kids who have this disease. And one more thing, she also has AIDS.”

  He squirmed in his seat. He was accustomed to meeting with heads of corporations, not sick people. But this was part of the job. “Sure, send her in.”

  He tugged on his jacket and straightened his tie.

  Ms. Garrison bounded into his office in her multi-colored shirt, bright red skirt, and long dark braids. “So, I finally get to meet the big guy.”

  He forced a smile to his lips. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Garrison. Won’t you sit down?”

  She plunked down and leaned forward. “You cut back on the money you send my group and I don’t like it. I’m here to change your mind.”

  He quickly brought up her organization’s information on his computer. His brow furrowed as he tried to remember why they had reduced her support. “We often review all of the organizations we assist, and at times we shift our funding slightly.” He clicked around on his computer. “According to my records, we only cut your monies by twenty percent.”

  “According to my records, you cut it by the new bunk beds we need to buy, most of the dental work my kids must have, and the field trips we had planned.”

  My kids? “So these children live with you?”

  She cocked her head. “You don’t know anything about my organization, do you?”

  Jonathan folded his hands. “It’s not that I don’t know, I have just come to be the director and my time—”

  “Forty-three children with AIDS live with me, Mr. Steller. These are children who have been abandoned by AIDS-infected parents, or have been taken away by the state. I feed, clothe, nurse, and provide for these children with a team of volunteers and money from a few organizations. Your twenty percent affects my children on a daily basis and I want you to reconsider.”

  He nodded and looked at the organization’s website again. A year ago, the Steller charity began floundering, the over-whelmed director at the time, began to cut giving to all groups. Jonathan had brought the files on the groups on his honeymoon, including the financial statements, and the whys behind the decision to cut funding, but never opened it once. What could he say? “Ms. Garrison, I’m very sorry, but this decision was made by our finance committee—”

  “Your finance committee needs to meet these adorable children before they decide to cut their funding.” She dug in her fringed purse. “Why don’t I set up a time for you to come and see our center?”

  “I don’t think that will be ness—”

  She got to her feet with a fire in her eyes. “Because in truth, Mr. Steller, you don’t really care about the people your charity provides money for, do you? This is just a job.”

  Nailed. He was no good at these types of meetings. He stood and walked over to his open door. “I’ll review your request and send you a letter on our findings.”

  She held out her hand.

  His brain warned. She has AIDS.

  But he’d already let her down enough. He took her hand in both of his and gripped it warmly. “I want to care about your children. Let me check my schedule and see when I can visit.”

  She offered him a wary glance. “Good-bye, Mr. Steller.”

  Now, hours later, sitting in his darkened office, he pressed his hands into his face and cringed at the memory of the encounter. How could he help people if touching them bothered him? As he leaned back, he knocked a file on the corner of his desk to the floor. He picked it up. The report on Emma’s family in the U.K. had come in before they’d left for their honeymoon, but he hadn’t had time to read it. Scanning the pages, he pressed his lips into a thin line at the brevity of the information provided.

  Emma’s father, Montgomery Waterhouse had been in the real estate investment business for over twenty years. Lilith Waterhouse was a homemaker and sometimes broker for Waterhouse Agents. They had a nice home in Knightsbridge, a very exclusive London address, and memberships in a few prestigious clubs. As he scanned further, he read about several lawsuits that had been filed against their company, but that was not uncommon in the business world. The Steller Soda Company had had various legal woes over the year spanning unlawful firing, breaches of contract, lack of timely payment.

  He did find it interesting that all of the Waterhouse’s lawsuits that had been settled out of court had been for fraud. He rubbed his chin as he finished reading the report. Odd how Emma never talked about them or to them. He couldn’t imagine not being a part of his parent’s life.

  He closed the file and shrugged on his suit coat, his mind slipping back to his own troubles. He just needed to track down the stolen money from Belize, continue to improve the productivity of the charity, then surely his father would move him back to corporate. Six months tops. Maybe nine. He swallowed.

  Nine months. Enough time to have a baby.

  His hands trembled as he shut his briefcase to go home. Where had that idea come from?

  ***

  Emma slumped on her new couch and kicked off her designer black high heels. A sigh of pleasure left her lips. No one could convince her that expensive high heels were any more comfortable than cheap ones. She undid the heavy, diamond studded watch her mother-in-law had given her, and pulled off the lime green and lemon yellow colored ba
ngles Jennifer had talked her into wearing.

  It had been a long afternoon of a society luncheon and more shopping with her dear sisters in-law. She thumped the couch pillow at her side and slid down to rest her head against it. At least she had managed to pick out a few pieces of furniture. Just as her mind started to wander off into blissful sleep, steps alerted her to someone coming. At the humming of her housekeeper, Adele, Emma let out a sigh. Having people working in her home around the clock was something she didn’t know if she’d ever get used to.

  “Mrs. Steller.”

  Emma sat up and looked for her mother-in-law, until she noticed the earnest look on Adele’s face. “Oh, yes?”

  “I wanted to remind you that the canceled dinner with the Cardinals players’ was rescheduled for tonight. And Mr. Steller will be unable to attend.”

  A wave of exhaustion washed over Emma. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she remembered Jonathan saying something to her this morning about his busy schedule. “Okay.”

  “And I’m all packed to leave for my family.”

  “Yes, of course. Have a wonderful time.”

  “Shall I arrange Orlando to drive you to the dinner?”

  “No, I will drive her.” In strode Nick. “I hope you don’t mind, Mrs. Steller,” he swerved around the couch and sat next to her. “That I let myself in. You know Jonathan and I are like…one.”

  Adele rolled her eyes and walked away.

  Emma sat up and smoothed back her hair. Right now, all she wanted was a nap, a soak in a tub, and a chance to curl up with a good book. “Nick, please call me Emma.” She shook the sleepiness from her head. “Jonathan talks of you often, so you must do a really good job. I mean. Being one with my husband.” She added with a grin.

  “Exactly. Now,” he took her hand. “You look very tired, and this is a very important dinner tonight.” He smiled, with model-good looks. “I want you looking your best.” He took her hand and led her toward a bedroom door. Is this one yours and Jonathan’s?”

  Emma cleared her throat. “Ah, well we don’t use—”

  “Let me guess, you don’t use the master because the furniture isn’t in yet. I know all about that, but which one—”

  Emma pressed her lips and steered him back to the kitchen. “I would like a cup of tea first, and then a nap.”

  “Great. I’ll make it for you.”

  ***

  Nick laughed softly to himself. His plan to get Emma on his side was working perfectly. Now he could control her better.

  Emma sat watching him, with her head resting on her arms. She was bellisimo. If he had a woman like that, he wouldn’t leave her alone for a minute. His finacee lived in Germany and he was happy to remain single, although Uncle Hans had strange ideas about married men with children being more reliable and hard-working. He might have to actually get married, now that Jonathan beat him to the alter.

  But he knew how devastated Jonathan had been at Dede leaving him. All Nick would need to do to truly destroy his competition is to have Emma to do the same. Now that she was at ease around him, he could use her to get to Jonathan. The lonelier she got, the easier it would be to feed her lies about him. The easier it would be to break up the marriage and destroy Jonathan again. It had worked with Dede, now he would do the same to Emma.

  As Nick poured the hot water into the mug and stirred, he frowned. Dede was easy to con, as she didn’t have the conscience that he sensed Emma had. He glanced over at her and smiled. And he didn’t want to hurt her, but he had a job to do. He had to prove to Uncle Hans that he would be better at running the company than Jonathan. And he’d do anything to prove it.

  ***

  Emma frowned as she watched Nick in the kitchen boiling water and fetching a mug. How much did he know about her and Jonathan’s agreement? She studied the tall, Italian looking man with dark hair and slender hands. He seemed quite familiar with their home. Did he and Jonathan hang out together after work before she came along?

  “It was very nice of you to offer to take me to the Cardinal’s dinner, but I have directions and I can drive myself.”

  Nick brought over the full mug and a pitcher of milk. “People don’t just get up and go to these things. At this level, everyone has drivers.”

  Her hand shook as she stirred in the milk.

  “I have offended you?”

  “No,” She looked up at his frown. “There are some things I’m going to do as me—Emma, and some things I will act like a proper Steller wife. I really can drive myself and be just fine.”

  “What about the paparazzi?”

  She paused. “I can handle myself.”

  He touched her shoulder and started rubbing. “I just want to take care of you, when Jonathan is not around. He trusts me to look after you.”

  Emma stood and took a nervous sip of her tea. “Don’t you have things you could be doing?”

  “I’m doing them now. I’m here making sure you are fitting in with the family.”

  “Did Jonathan send you to check up on me?”

  “Well, no, but he has said he wants me to help with looking after you.”

  “I don’t need looking—”

  “Please, forgive me.” He offered a sheepish grin. “I get carried away wanting to do a good job for the company.” He held out his hand. “Friends?”

  “Friends,” she said as she yawned.

  Adele walked back into the room with her hands folded. “And one more thing, Mrs. Steller is here to see you.”

  Reeling with astonishment, Emma straightened up, slipped on her shoes, bracelets, and smoothed back her hair.

  “Emma!” Babsy strode into the room and then greeted her with a hug. “I thought I’d check in with you. How are you?”

  As Emma searched for the right words, she spied the very expensive watch still sitting on the side table. Daft move, Duckie.

  “I love what you’ve done in here.” Babsy took in the coffee table, the soft tweedy couches, and oriental lamps Emma had picked out on her own. “Quite homey.”

  Homey. Was that good? Emma was supposed to let the decorator do it, but Franz had such eccentric tastes and they needed a few things while she continued meeting with him.

  As Babsy’s back was turned, Emma saw her chance and dove for the side table. She snatched up the watch, gripping it behind her back. “I’m glad you like it. I hope Jonathan will be happy. Do you want me to get you, er, send for tea, coffee, or a soda?”

  “Mrs. Steller, do you need something to drink?” Nick strode back into the room.

  “Nothing for me.” Babsy took him in with a frown.

  But when Emma discreetly waved at him to leave, the watch in her hand flew into the air and landed at Babsy’s feet. “Oh, I was just admiring this back on—”

  Babsy broke out into laughter until she plopped down on the facing loveseat.

  With a flush from head to toe, Emma laughed to keep from crying.

  “Oh my dear. That look on your face is priceless.” Babsy picked up the diamond watch and set it on the table. “I remember that look and the feelings that went behind it.”

  Emma blinked back tears. “You do?”

  “All of this.” Her mother-in-law gestured about the room. “I was once a new Steller bride. It’s overwhelming isn’t it?”

  A ripple of emotion tightened Emma’s throat. “Yes,” came out in a whisper.

  “A new life, a new name, a new husband, a new home.”

  Emma nodded, as tears welled in her eyes. She’d only been a new wife for two weeks, and already she felt deluged by responsibilities.

  “Oh dear.” Babsy came and sat beside her. “God has brought you to Jonathan, of that I’m sure. I know this wasn’t a traditional romance, but you are a gift from God.”

  A sob escaped Emma’s lips. “I certainly don’t feel that way. He’s always working, weekends, late at night, and I’m not sure what a Steller wife is supposed to do, dress like, act like, be like. And he’s not here to h—help me. I don’t know wh
at he expects of me.” Emma pressed her hands to her face as the emotions she’d been holding in came tumbling out like a bad sonata. Should she be complaining about her husband to his mother?

  Babsy patted her shoulder. “My dear, I’ve always found the answers are always in God.”

  Emma nodded as she dabbed at her tears.

  “Do you pray for Jonathan?”

  Emma paused. She had prayed for him, but not every day. “I need to more.”

  “I believe if you will pray for him every day, God will show you the answers to all these questions.”

  Nodding, Emma took the tissue offered by her mother-in-law. It made sense. Get her eyes back on the Lord. Relying on His strength and not her own. “I like that. I’ll do that.”

  Babsy smiled as she stood. “And then I believe God will show you His plans for you as well.” She paused in the doorway. “I forgot to remind you, the Cardinal dinner had been rescheduled for tonight. I thought I might be able to come in Jonathan’s place, but my husband had already planned something. Can you handle it on your own? You’ll be the only Steller there.”

  A sick feeling clenched Emma’s stomach. A dinner with some of the world’s most famous baseball players? She hadn’t watched a game in years. She rubbed her forehead again. What if they asked her baseball-type questions? “I’ll be fine.”

  “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Emma sat for a long time on the sofa, praying for her husband and for the courage to face this evening’s dinner alone. After a while, her head eased back against the soft pillows and her thoughts drifted off to black.

  A door slammed. Emma startled. Jonathan. What time was it? In the darkness, she fumbled to turn on a lamp, but couldn’t find her watch. She scurried to meet him in the entry. “Hi.”

  “Hello.” Jonathan’s voice sounded weary as he set his briefcase down and threw his keys on a box.

  She winced. She meant to pick out an entry table today. “How was your day?” She liked the sound of that very wifely question.

  “Good.” He took off his jacket and paused to look at her.

  The tiredness in his blue eyes stirred her concern. “Just good?” Normally everything with him was great. At the sight of his mussed hair and askew tie, her insides tightened. She licked her dry lips. After praying for him this evening, her heart felt very tender toward him. “Would you like something to eat?”