Chapter 13
That Afternoon
“Ican’t believe you’re getting married!” Millicent threw herself into Rosalind’s arms and squealed. “This is so exciting.”
Rosalind smiled, not because the idea of marrying Leeland Vandermeer made her happy, but because she had grown so accustomed to forcing herself to smile over the last four days that she could now do so without thinking.
“How romantic.” Jane sighed, stepping forward to give Rosalind a hug of her own. “I dream of my wedding day.”
“How does it feel to be the first of us?” Freya hugged her, her eyes bright. “Are you excited? Oh, four months seems so far away. How will we ever wait?”
“Will the wedding be here or in Seattle?” Jane clasped her hands together beneath her chin. “Please say it will be here. I’m not sure that Father will want to travel all the way to Seattle for a wedding.”
Again, Rosalind plastered a smile on her face. “It will be here.” Her father had granted her that much at least.
Or maybe he hadn’t granted her anything at all. Maybe he’d always intended for it to be in Sitka because he wanted to make a show of his wealth.
But the one thing she knew he’d granted her because of her engagement was a chance to host her friends for an afternoon tea. In the years she’d been living in Alaska, she could count on one hand the times he’d allowed her to have friends over.
But in this case, he’d been the one to suggest it.
“This is all so romantic!” Freya flounced over to the settee, where a proper English tea had been laid out in the library for them to enjoy, complete with a three-tier tray filled with finger sandwiches and minicakes and crumpets with cream.
“It’s really not.” Rosalind followed her to the settee. “People get married all the time.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” Millicent waved a hand as she sat in one of the armchairs across from the settee. “I hear that Mr. Vandermeer is unbelievably wealthy. Is that true?”
“Yes, I heard he has five houses!” Jane’s grin was so large it took up her entire face.
“Uh, I don’t know how many houses Leeland has.” Though he could well have five. Her fiancé had more money than he knew what to do with, but that still didn’t mean she wanted to marry him.
He was stern and short-tempered, and he spent far too many hours in the evenings drinking in her father’s study. Her father didn’t consume half the liquor Leeland did.
Was that intentional on her father’s part? Did he want to get Leeland drunk in the hopes that he’d give away some kind of secret or sign an unfavorable contract while he was inebriated? She didn’t know.
The one thing she did know was that, for the first time since her mother died, her father was happy with her. Even though she hadn’t managed to get the library named after him yet, he was still pleased. He hadn’t struck her once since Leeland arrived.
The least she could do was take advantage of his good mood by inviting her friends over once a week until she married.
Who knew if she’d be able to see friends at all after she married Leeland and moved to Seattle?
If she married him. Because as much as her father wanted it, she couldn’t imagine herself walking down the aisle toward Leeland Vandermeer. Nor could she imagine speaking the words “I do” to him.
“Which of us do you think will get married next?” Freya helped herself to one of the crumpets and added a dollop of clotted cream on top of it.
Rosalind busied herself pouring the tea, making sure she poured it evenly into each cup without spilling so much as a drop.
Millicent grinned. “I think we should place a wager on it.”
“Millie, that’s scandalous!” Jane gasped, but her face had broken out into another smile as well.
Millicent made another swishing motion with her hand. “It’s no different than what the men do down at the bar.”
“I’d like to say I’ll be the next to marry, but I don’t even have a suitor.” Freya poked out her bottom lip.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jane picked up her teacup. “I saw Yuri Amos walking you home from the mercantile just yesterday.”
Rosalind flinched, causing tea to slosh from the pot onto the fancy white tablecloth. She swallowed. Would the housekeeper tell Father she’d put a stain on the tablecloth? Would he give her another—
“Yuri walked you home?” Millicent clasped a hand to her heart. “Why didn’t I know about this?”
Freya’s shoulders rose and fell on a disappointed sigh. “I don’t think he fancies me that way. He was just being helpful. I ended up purchasing more things than I expected for Mother but didn’t bring a horse. When he saw me trying to carry four sacks’ worth of goods, he offered to carry them.”
Millicent sighed, light and dreamy and far different from the way Freya had sighed. “That sounds exactly like something Yuri would do.”
“But it doesn’t mean he likes her any more than he likes the rest of us.” Jane picked up one of the small sandwiches cut into a dainty triangle. “Do you think he fancies one of us but is just afraid to show it?”
Rosalind ducked her head. She was the last person who should try to answer that question. All she knew was that her heart hurt at the thought of Yuri Amos.
Normally she looked forward to seeing him, even if it was for a few brief moments as they exchanged letters each month. They never said much to each other during those exchanges, yet something about him had always felt safe.
But not yesterday at the post office. She’d hated every moment of that encounter.
Had Leeland not been with her, she would have walked home with an extra bounce in her step and a smile on her face. Would have replayed over and over in her head whatever small bit of conversation they’d shared.
But yesterday morning she’d wanted the floor to open up and swallow her.
What must he think, knowing she was engaged?
She stared into her tea. Nothing. He probably thought nothing. It wasn’t as though there was something romantic between them. Maybe he was kind to her and listened when she talked, but that didn’t mean he had any type of romantic interest in her.
And she wasn’t sure she had any romantic interest in him either. She wanted to marry someone like him, true. Someone kind. Someone who listened. Someone who saw her as a person.
But that didn’t mean she wanted to marry Yuri Amos in particular, did it?
Of course not. It was a ridiculous notion. Half the women in town fancied themselves in love with him, including her friends.
“Well?” Freya nudged her with her elbow, and Rosalind nearly spilled her tea on her lap.
She pressed her eyes shut when she realized it hadn’t spilled. Not a drop.
“Can’t you let us see your ring? Please?” Freya leaned closer. “We don’t need to give anyone the details if you want us to keep it quiet. We really just want a look.”
Was that what her friends had been asking? To look at her ring? She set her teacup down on the table in front of her, then extended her hand toward Freya, ignoring the way her fingers trembled. “Here you go.”
A faraway look filled Freya’s eyes. “Oh, this makes me dream about what our own rings might look like. If one of us marries a man rich enough to give us a ring, that is.”
Jane and Millicent left their chairs and came around the back of the settee for a closer look.
“I’ve never seen a ring with so many stones in it before,” Millicent said.
“It’s breathtaking,” Jane murmured, tilting her head to study it.
Millicent bent even closer. “It’s so big.”
“It’s heavy.” Rosalind blurted.
Millicent’s laughter echoed through the room. “Well, I’d rather have a heavy ring than a small one. I’d say your fiancé has excellent taste.”
Yes. Everyone who saw the ring said that exact thing. Rosalind looked down at it, trying to see it through her friends’ eyes.
Large and heavy, the gold band had been set with a single oval-cut sapphire surrounded by diamonds. She knew it was breathtaking, knew her friends were right about how lovely it was.
Yet she hated it.
The door to the library opened, and the air felt suddenly dark, never mind the giant floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the sound.
She didn’t need to look up to know her fiancé had just stepped inside.
“Ladies.” Leeland’s voice was smooth and deep. “I trust I’m not interrupting?”
Millicent straightened, smoothing her skirt and casting an excited glance at Rosalind. “Not at all. We were just admiring the ring.”
“Were you now?” He strode toward Rosalind and took her hand, lifting it so he could examine the sapphire. “I chose the largest stone the jeweler had. Only the best for my future wife.”
He brushed his thumb over the ring, but it pressed just a little too hard, causing the ring to dig into her skin.
She forced herself not to pull away.
“Has my fiancée been telling you all about our wedding plans?” He smiled at her friends; then his eyes shifted to her.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Because she hadn’t told them anything other than that the wedding would be in Sitka.
Because she’d spent most of the conversation thinking about Yuri Amos rather than the man she was actually betrothed to.
She looked down, never mind her hand was still caught in Leeland’s.
For the second time that week, she wished the floor would open up and swallow her, but she settled for pressing her eyes shut instead.
Come to San Francisco.
Oh, drat. Why was that the first thing she saw when she closed her eyes? Why did her mind dredge up the image of Yuri standing in the snow, offering to help her escape her father?
What if she had said yes? What if she had left Sitka right then?
Her father would have tracked her down by now, that’s what.
So where did that leave her?