The carriage ride seemed endless. Time dragged. Elizabeth glanced over at Justin, then turned and pulled the window curtain back to stare out at the snow-covered landscape. All of her efforts at polite conversation had met with cold, curt answers and she was not eager to be rebuffed again. The carriage shuddered as a gust of wind hit it. Hail began to pound the roof with icy fists, demanding entrance. The sound was a steady drumming that emphasized the silence.
Elizabeth dropped the curtain, wiggled her toes and smiled to herself at the warm, luxuriant feel of the soft fur that molded itself to her foot. Moccasins. Justin was right—they were comfortable. Yesterday her feet had been painfully cold, but now they were encased in a lovely warmth. Did he ever wear them? Is that why he had thought to provide them for her?
Elizabeth studied this stranger she had married from under her lowered lashes. Try as she would, she couldn’t imagine him in moccasins. His clothes were the latest fashion, the material and cut quietly stating wealth and good taste. Even in the matter of clothing his self-assurance was obvious—he disdained the popular use of breeches and wore trousers instead. Her gaze swept from his Hessian boots to the top of his dark head. His hair was cut so that it just brushed the top of his collar and fell in thick, springy waves about his temples and forehead. The style suited him.
Elizabeth lowered her gaze to Justin’s face and bit back a giggle. He was certainly no toad! He had thick, straight, dark brows and blue eyes that would be truly lovely if they weren’t so cold and unfriendly looking. And his lashes were extraordinary—long and thick and very black. She leaned back against the padded seat, entertaining herself by continuing her covert assessment of his appearance. His nose was long, straight and masculine. It held its own well against the high, prominent cheekbones that framed it. And when combined with his firm, square jaw, it gave his face a strong, rugged look that was softened only by his mouth.
Elizabeth tipped her head to one side and studied his mouth. It didn’t seem to belong to the man. The bottom lip was soft and full, with corners that turned up slightly—as if he were in constant good humor. It added a touch of gentleness that made his face intriguing, and exceedingly pleasant to look upon. In truth, Justin Randolph was a very handsome man—and most definitely not what she had pictured when that judge had been talking with her.
Elizabeth choked back another giggle. “I’m certainly glad he’s not old and ugly!” She gasped as Justin’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Justin burst into laughter. “You look absolutely appalled, Elizabeth! But there’s no need to be embarrassed—or, to apologize. I, too, am glad I’m not old and ugly.” Her face flamed at his teasing and she turned away. Disappointment smote him. His laughter died. It was just as well.
The thought sobered him. Justin arranged his features into the cool, aloof look he had schooled them to, and turned his gaze back to the snow-covered landscape outside the window. It would not do for Elizabeth to learn of the sudden hunger in his heart, brought to life by the enticing warmth of her personality. That knowledge was a weapon—and he did not intend to place the instrument of his destruction in this greedy woman’s hand.
Night covered the land like a thick velvet blanket as they entered the city of Philadelphia. The darkness was relieved only by the candlelight pouring from the windows of the homes and shops they passed, and the glowing circles of light cast by the lampposts that stood guard on the street corners.
Elizabeth peered out the window as the carriage rolled down the unfamiliar street. She noted with interest the teeming night, the sounds of merriment that poured from the taverns and inns. A group of young blades, walking toward a swinging sign bearing the picture of a large blue anchor, swept off their hats and bowed low as they spotted her. Elizabeth jerked back and let the curtain fall into place. She pulled it aside again as they moved on.
The carriage turned a corner where a small group of fashionably dressed people was gathered around a chestnut vendor, then rolled down a street lined with tall, narrow, three-story houses standing side by side like soldiers standing at attention. The sounds of Philadelphia’s lively nightlife faded away. They turned another corner. Here, the brick houses sat back from the street in stately splendor, guarded by low brick walls or black iron fences. Tall, majestic trees towered in their lawns.
The carriage swayed and lurched. Elizabeth caught a glimpse of large brick pillars topped by gleaming lamps as they swept into a circular way. Her stomach contracted in a spasm of nervous apprehension—her new life was about to begin. She clasped her trembling hands tightly on her lap, closed her eyes. Most gracious, Heavenly Father, please help me to be equal to the tasks ahead of me as mistress of Justin Randolph’s home. I—
“Nervous?”
“Yes.” Elizabeth opened her eyes.
The carriage slowed, then rolled to a stop. The horses snorted and stomped their hoofs on the brick paving.
Elizabeth removed the rug from her lap and placed it on the seat beside her. Her hands shook as she reached to smooth back the wayward curls that fell forward on her face. She drew her breath in sharply at the sound of approaching footsteps.
“You’ve no cause for concern, Elizabeth. Only remember the part you are to play.” Justin’s voice took on a warning note. “You are my loving bride.”
“I’ll remember.” Elizabeth whispered the answer as the carriage steps were pulled into place. “I’ll not disappoint you.”
“You will not be permitted to do so.” Justin fastened his gaze on Elizabeth’s, and suddenly, it was there again, that vague stirring at the fringe of his mind—that feeling that there was something he should remember. It was blown away by a blast of cold, damp air that hit him when the door was pulled open.
“Welcome home, sir.”
Justin shifted his gaze to his butler. “Thank you, Owen. It’s good to be back.” He climbed from the carriage, then turned and held his hand out.
Elizabeth drew a deep breath and placed her cold, trembling hand in Justin’s. His hand was warm and steady. The strength in his grip made her stomach flop. She ducked her head, extended her foot to the step, then immediately drew it back again. She had forgotten the moccasins. She darted her gaze to the impeccably garbed butler waiting in quiet dignity for her to descend and smiled.
The butler’s staid visage creased into an answering smile. He bowed low. “Welcome home, Madam Randolph.”
“Thank you.” She exited the carriage before he straightened.
Justin clamped his hands firmly around her waist and lifted her to the ground. “Nicely done—but unnecessary.” Amusement warmed his whisper. “Owen would never question the appearance of my bride.”
“I didn’t know.” Elizabeth took a quick backward step as he released her. “And I didn’t want—”
“To embarrasses me.” Justin finished the sentence as Owen took their bags from Daniel.
“Yes.” Elizabeth tensed at his sarcastic tone. “Are you always so observant?”
“I’ve learned to be where women are concerned.” He gave her a look that sent a shiver racing up her spine, then abruptly changed his expression as Owen approached. “Welcome home, my darling. Welcome to Randolph Court.”
Justin’s voice was so soft and tender Elizabeth could hardly credit it as belonging to him. The metamorphosis in him was so swift, so complete, she was too stunned to struggle when he placed his hands lightly on her shoulders and turned her toward the house. And then she simply forgot everything and stared at her new home.
Soft, golden candlelight emanated from the mansion’s large, small-paned windows, warming its bricks to a rosy hue, and adding a gentle sheen to the frost-covered leaves of the evergreen plants that graced its facade. A fanlight above the centered entrance door was graced by a white dove holding an olive branch in its beak. Below the soaring bird were waves of rippling blue-green water, and above it, forming the arch of the fanlight, was a glorious stained-glass rainbow. The beautiful colors seemed to melt and flow around Elizabeth as the light from inside poured through them. “The symbols of peace and promise. What a lovely way to welcome guests to your home, Justin.”
He made a noncommittal grunt, tucked her hand through his arm and started toward the door. Elizabeth gave him a cool look. Even if he didn’t like her, he could at least be polite!
She gripped her skirt in her free hand as they started up the steps to the portico. The colored light flooded over them. She looked up at the window again. “The fanlight is truly lovely, Justin. Did an English craftsman design it? Or is it the work of a local artist?” She was almost jerked from her feet as Justin came to an abrupt halt.
“The fanlight was designed by a young fool that had a head full of ideals—and a heart full of romantic nonsense. He’s dead now. He was murdered. And I have no desire to discuss either the window, or the man responsible for it. Is that clear, Elizabeth?”
There was pain deep in his eyes. Elizabeth bit back the angry retort that sprang to her lips at Justin’s unwarranted rebuke. Apparently, the young man had been someone he cared deeply about. “Yes. That’s clear. Please forgive me. I didn’t know.”
“Nor could you have. We’ll not speak of it again.”
The words were cold and brusque, and the compassion Elizabeth felt for Justin disappeared like smoke before a hard-driving wind. He started forward again, his long strides forcing her to hurry her steps as they crossed the portico. She was musing on how effectively he managed to squelch every kindly emotion she felt toward him as she crossed the threshold of her new home.