Chapter Nine

There were footsteps outside the door and soft rapping. I jumped from bed, thinking that I was late for Mrs. Amber, and then I realized where I was and what had happened. Lucas lay beside me in his huge bed, swimming in a tangle of white sheets.

The door opened gently, and Mrs. Amber entered. “Mr. St. Claire,” she said, “are you awake? I have your coffee.” She carried a tray in her hands.

Lucas rolled over and said in a husky voice, “Fine, set it here on the bed.”

Mrs. Amber took a step, and her gaze travelled along the length of the bed, sliding up my body and until resting on my face. “Reyna,” she said in a hiss.

Lucas ran his fingers through his hair. “Mrs. Amber.” There was a note of warning in his voice. “Reyna is Mrs. St. Claire now.”

She took a step back, looked from him to me, and then said, “Sir?”

“We married yesterday.”

She looked at me again, and there was a strange look in her eyes. If I hadn’t known better I would have said it was a look of happiness. She cleared her throat, and set the tray on the bed. “Well, congratulations. To both of you.”

“Perhaps you can help Reyna and I plan a small gathering. Very small. A simple dinner. The staff will be invited, but we will need to work out how to serve it. A few of my business partners. Perhaps in two nights?”

“Of course. We won’t have much in way of supplies, what with only a day of preparation, but I’m sure we can arrange something.”

I was skeptical that a party could be arranged so quickly, but Lucas assured me that it was as simple as a quick word or two. He was right, of course, and the next day all of the arrangements had been made and all I had to do was wait.

On the morning of our wedding celebration, my world fell away from me without so much as a warning. Lucas had gone to visit a business partner and would not be back until later in the afternoon, just before the party. That was when disaster happened.

Mrs. Amber came into the room and announced “Mrs. St. Claire.”

I still had not accustomed myself to being referred to in that manner and my response was slow. “Yes?” I said.

“There’s a Mr. Brent at the door, asking for you. He originally asked for Mr. St. Claire, but I told him Mr. St. Claire was away until this afternoon and then he asked for you.”

“I don’t know any Mr. Brent.”

“I told him as much, but he said it was a matter of urgency. He looks very determined, Mrs. St. Claire.”

“I’ll see him then.”

“I’ll send him in.”

“No, I’ll come with you to the door.”

I met him at the door, where he was waiting, leaning against the frame of the mahogany doors. When he saw me, he startled and straightened himself. “I’m so sorry to intrude, Miss Ferraro.”

“Mrs. St. Claire,” I corrected him.

“Yes. Well.” He held his hat in his hand. “Is Mr. St. Claire not available?”

“No. He’s not. You can speak to me.”

“Very well,” he said.

I noticed for the first time that he was holding a sheet of paper in the other hand. It was rolled up and wrinkled, clutched in his grip. He held it out to me and as my hand accepted the paper, a feeling of unease spread up into my body and settled over me like a shroud. The last thing I wanted to do was open that sheet of paper. “Tell me what is on this paper?”

The man rubbed his chin. “Well, there’s nothing to do but just to say it. I come from the courthouse, and the judge has denied your marriage.”

“Denied?” There was a ringing in my ears, a hollow, far-away sound.

“I’m afraid so. When Celeste St. Claire disappeared…”

The ringing became louder.

“Well, she can’t be declared dead for two more years still. So Mr. St. Claire is already married and his license to you is bigamy, and denied.”

His words were like a vine growing around my heart, squeezing it tighter and tighter. I felt the life drain from my body, and I almost crumpled to the ground, but somehow I managed to nod my head without falling, and mumbled the words, “I see.”

“I’m very sorry. Truly.”

“I understand. I do.”

When the man left, I shut the door behind him and leaned against it. I rubbed my eyes. Not married. Not dead. A party that started in an hour.