Page 224 of Conveniently Wed
“Of course.” Tremors claimed her hands, and she squeezed them together to still them.
“Then, Mrs. Norwood, we are agreed?”
“Except for one thing.”
If his eyebrows went up any more, they would disappear under his hat.
She smiled, though it felt more of a grimace. “You’ll have to start calling me Stella.”
He grinned. “Hi, Stella. I’m Bruce.” He held out his hand, and she took it. They didn’t shake so much as grasp each other. For her part, she needed something to hang on to.
His grin flattened. “And we are about to get married.”
“I feel like I’m diving into a deep rushing river and I can’t swim.”
He retained her hand. “I can.”
Stella slipped her hand free. She’d had promises broken too often to be foolish enough to count on them.
He was entering this relationship for his aunt, she for the children.
Would it be enough to bind them together?
4
Bruce woke the next morning with a lump the size of a bushel basket filling his insides. He and Stella had agreed to marry this morning. She’d said the sooner they got his aunt and the children away from those who moaned in the sickrooms, the better for all involved.
He hadn’t spoken to his aunt last night, and as soon as he heard sounds in the house, he went to seek entrance. “How is my aunt?” he asked Mrs. Kinsley, who looked weary from taking care of sick people much of the night.
“She’s fine. I’m about to take her breakfast.”
“Let me.” He carried the tray into the parlor.
Aunt Mary sat with pillows behind her back.
“Are you comfortable?” She looked marginally better than she had yesterday.
“For the most part.”
He adjusted the tray over her knees and sat on the wooden chair beside her. He waited while she started on the bowl of oatmeal.
“Stella and I have agreed to get married.”
His aunt stared at him. “Are you doing this, so I won’t have to travel?”
He wouldn’t admit it. “It’s mutually beneficial.”
“I see. And you’re ready to embark on a married life after less than one day of acquaintance?”
“It will be more of a business deal than a marriage.”
“A what?”
“We all get a home. That’s what matters.”
Aunt Mary eyed him a long moment. He didn’t blink, nor shift away from her gaze.
“Well, if you’re willing to believe that, then fine.” She returned to her breakfast, and he pulled a quiet breath into his lungs. At least she hadn’t offered any argument.
