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A Convenient Christmas Wedding
Regina Scott
The Marriage Agreement
Proposing a marriage of convenience to a rugged logger is the boldest move of Nora Underhill’s sheltered life. In return for Simon Wallin’s protection from her overbearing family, the unassuming seamstress offers prime frontier farmland. But their paper marriage changes when Nora’s greedy brother tries to draw her back into a life of drudgery. Her only option: move to Simon’s farm, and into the center of his loving, unruly family.
Years of shouldering responsibility have left Simon cynical and reserved. But little by little, Nora’s warmth opens his shuttered heart to joy. With their marriage claim under threat, can this practical arrangement blossom over the holidays...and become a love for all seasons?
“Please, Mr. Wallin? I don’t think I could be so bold as to ask a stranger. I know I can trust you.”
Nora trusted in him on the thinnest of connections. And how was he to know she wouldn’t abuse his trust? She wouldn’t be the first to disappoint him.
But she may be the first to truly understand you.
Where had that thought come from? He’d yet to find anyone who shared his views on life. His was the lone voice of reason some days at Wallin Landing. Therefore, he should evaluate this proposal on logic, not emotion.
She was offering one hundred and sixty acres he badly needed and could get no other way. He was offering protection from an overbearing brother. They didn’t have to live together.
It was all strictly platonic. They both achieved their goals with relatively little effort. What was wrong with that?
“Very well, Miss Underhill,” he said. “I’ll make the arrangements for us to wed.”
She offered him her hand. “To our bargain.”
Simon took it, felt the tremor in her fingers. She wasn’t any more sure of this marriage of convenience than he was.
Had he just agreed to something they’d both live to regret?
REGINA SCOTT has always wanted to be a writer. Since her first book was published in 1998, her stories have traveled the globe, with translations in many languages. Fascinated by history, she learned to fence and sail a tall ship. She and her husband reside in Washington state with their overactive Irish terrier. You can find her online blogging at nineteenteen.com (http://www.nineteenteen.com). Learn more about her at reginascott.com (http://www.reginascott.com) or connect with her on Facebook at Facebook.com/authorreginascott (https://Facebook.com/authorreginascott).
A Convenient Christmas Wedding
Regina Scott
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The light shines in the darkness,
but the darkness has not understood it.
—John 1:5
To the Wighamans, Chris, Megan, Reece and Molly, for their encouragement and the inspiration of Christmas Adam, and to the Lord, who offers inspiration at Christmas and throughout the year.
Contents
Cover (#u4ad35d84-2a88-5e4b-8ef9-683a1fb5786b)
Back Cover Text (#u1a4b251f-6819-5d7f-928c-f18933e73d6f)
Introduction (#udb586c78-9801-52fc-8845-122d64341948)
About the Author (#u08f785a7-87aa-5fff-81da-40c6b9c23c21)
Title Page (#ube700f68-58aa-566e-9c42-87e54d82e3b9)
Bible Verse (#u7bcdcaf4-2a49-56c3-86d4-deb06ea09518)
Dedication (#u690eadc4-bfa6-52e6-837d-a6451ed0f6fe)
Chapter One (#u451310b5-e0fa-5c5f-9990-5629aaaedd89)
Chapter Two (#u3e836a9b-5c5f-55c8-a817-181e221b1b19)
Chapter Three (#uf4d1f937-3a3d-5acf-a007-f742946898f2)
Chapter Four (#ude4833a5-ae8b-52e8-8d04-4b74b8d01a12)
Chapter Five (#ufddd1279-e206-5ec1-bc51-06ae4446c8ad)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u8b659ff1-2d32-56d4-8e35-e5d4719ca913)
Seattle, Washington Territory
December 1866
What better time than a wedding to ask a man to marry you?
Nora Underhill stood in the corner of the Occidental Hotel’s fine restaurant, watching as toasts were raised. Behind the head table draped in white, her friend Maddie O’Rourke looked beautiful in the embroidered spruce-colored wool gown Nora had sewn for her. The other ladies wore their church clothes, soft wools and a few velvets in rich colors that glowed like jewels in the golden lamplight.
Everyone seemed so happy, particularly Michael Haggerty as he gazed down at his bride, whose blush was nearly as red as her hair. Nora liked seeing people happy. She liked making people happy. A shame she’d never managed that with her parents or her brother and sister-in-law. If her brother’s socially astute wife were here, Nora could imagine what Meredith would say.
You are quite right to hide in the shadows, Nora. These people will only judge you and find you lacking. I can’t imagine what your friend was thinking to name you maid of honor. No doubt she was only being kind.
And Maddie was kind. Nora knew that. The outspoken Irishwoman had befriended her, trusted Nora to teach her little sister, Ciara, how to sew. Maddie had even complimented Nora on her dress today—lavender crepe with a scalloped overskirt, fitted bodice and embroidered amethyst-colored hearts along every edge. Quite fitting for a wedding, she’d thought when she’d finished it. And she’d managed to tame her unruly black hair back behind her head in a bun that was at least a trifle fashionable. Even Meredith would find her satisfactory today. But then, it wasn’t Meredith she was trying to please.
Let him look with favor on my proposal, Father.
Immediately, guilt gnawed at her. She tried never to ask for things for herself. When her parents had sickened, she’d prayed for them as she’d nursed them. The Lord had seen fit to bring them home to heaven.
When her brother, Charles, and his wife, Meredith, had taken her in, she’d prayed at first for their strength. They’d always seemed terribly burdened by her presence.
When she’d decided to leave home and venture to Seattle with the Mercer Expedition, she’d prayed for its success, for the health and safety of the ladies sailing all the way around the continent to make a new life. God had delivered them to Seattle, where nearly all her traveling companions, including Maddie, had found employment and husbands.
Surely, just this once, He’d consider it appropriate for her to pray for herself.
And she certainly needed His help. She wasn’t brave or bold like Maddie, but today she would ask the bravest, boldest question a lady might utter. Her entire future depended on how Simon Wallin answered. She couldn’t return to the life she’d led back in Lowell, Massachusetts. She’d thought she’d escaped by coming to Seattle with Asa Mercer last May. She’d fallen in love with the wide sweeps of fir, the massive mountains in the distance, the gentle call of the waves on Puget Sound. Even the cool, damp air smelled like freedom here!
And then her brother, Charles, had written that he and Meredith were also coming to Seattle. It seemed they’d suffered a financial setback and thought to reestablish themselves here. Charles had instructed her to secure a home for them and furnish it, the costs to be paid with his remaining funds. Of course, he didn’t ask her to find a cook or a maid. She knew who would be cooking and cleaning and helping his wife dress.
Her.
She shuddered and had to paste a smile back on her face as more of Maddie’s friends rose to cheer her good fortune. Maddie and Michael made a fine couple, and the way Maddie’s little brother and sister beamed, the four were already on the way to becoming a loving family.
That was not her experience of family. Family clutched at you, pecked at you, bared each of your faults and made you feel small, stupid and vulnerable. Neither her parents nor her brother had ever loved her. Perhaps the only love she’d have was that of her Heavenly Father. There was a certain contentment in that. No one could steal it from her.
But Charles and Meredith could certainly try to steal her happiness, her prosperity. She could attempt to stand up to them, but they were like a stream running down a mountain. The mountain could stand as tall and proud as it liked. The water was still going to cut a canyon.
Like her parents, her brother felt it his duty to protect her from a world that was unkind, condemning a lady who lacked fortune, figure and face. What he saw as protection, she felt as a swaddling blanket, tight, smothering. Meredith had, surprisingly, been the one to encourage her to leave Lowell. Why couldn’t Charles understand that Nora had done well for herself here, with no help from him? There wasn’t a man or woman in the room who hadn’t come to her to either repair or create clothing.
Except one.
She could see him now, standing against the opposite wall as if he too had other matters on his mind. Though his strong arms were crossed over his chest, tightening the wool of his plain brown suit, there was nothing hesitant or shy about Simon Wallin. He burned with the intensity of an oil lamp’s flame, barely contained by the glass. He alone was as tall as his older brother Drew, who had married Catherine Stanway of the Mercer Expedition, and Simon held himself with his head high, his gaze firm as he watched his family nearby.
They too seemed terribly happy together, enough so that a sigh came out of her. Mrs. Wallin, the matriarch of the family, her graying red hair curling, had linked arms with her blond-haired daughter, Beth, who smiled up at her. Towering over them, Drew exchanged glances with his pretty wife, Catherine, as if remembering their own wedding day, as did the regal Alexandrina and her dapper husband, James Wallin. Younger brothers John and Levi jostled each other good-naturedly as if they couldn’t wait to get out of the suits and into the more comfortable clothes they likely wore when logging.
She supposed she might have approached John. He was by all accounts studious and kind, even if he was a few years her junior. But Simon, she thought, held greater possibilities when it came to strengths. Surely that high forehead was testimony to intelligence. The long, lanky body certainly spoke of hard labor, and the firm fingers told of days wielding an ax and nights cradling his father’s violin. She’d heard him play at Catherine’s and Rina’s weddings. A man capable of bringing such joy must have the capacity to understand her hopes.
But there was another reason she’d chosen Simon. Maddie had confided that he was a man who could be utterly fixed on a course of action, and he was focused now on a goal to help his family. With two new brides and babies on the horizon, the Wallins needed more farmland.
And that was something Nora could offer.
She raised her head, determination stiffening her spine and forcing her feet across the room to his side as the other guests came forward to accept pieces of the wedding cake Maddie had created in her bakery. Nora felt Simon’s gaze shift to her and nearly wilted under the considering look. She reminded herself that whatever he thought of her, whatever he said, it could be no worse than what she would endure once Charles and Meredith arrived.
“Mr. Wallin,” she said, the sound of her thundering heart nearly eclipsing her voice in her ears. “I’m Nora Underhill, and I have a proposal for you.”
He frowned. His brows were a shade darker than his short, light brown hair. They made a firm slash across his tanned skin. Those green eyes were like chips of jade as he gazed down at her. “A proposal?”
“Yes,” she said, amazed at her own audacity. “An actual proposal. Simon Wallin, I want you to marry me.”
* * *
Simon blinked. Even in primitive Seattle, even at a reception where weddings were on everyone’s mind, a lady didn’t ask a gentleman to marry. She had no reason, for Seattle boasted ten men for every lady of marriageable age. Instead of offering, a lady generally had to fend off too many offers.
And it wasn’t as if he was well acquainted with the woman. He had met her only once or twice. He might not have remembered her name if she hadn’t reminded him now.
Besides, she certainly didn’t seem the forward type. He’d noticed her, standing against the far wall, one hand hugging her waist, her face first brightening in a smile, then darkening. Now her gray eyes were growing misty in her expressive face, and her generous lips were trembling.
He could not imagine what would have driven her to make such a bold request, but he wasn’t about to grant it.
“I think,” he said, keeping his voice kind and respectful, “that you are talking to the wrong man. Any number of fellows would no doubt be delighted to pay you court, Miss Underhill.”
She shook her head so strongly her hair flew out of the bun in which she’d attempted to bind it, thick black tendrils curling like smoke around her broad cheeks. “No. It must be you. You see, I don’t want a husband, and from what I gather, you don’t want a wife. We’d be perfect for each other.”
He could not follow her logic, but that was nothing new. He struggled to understand even his brothers’ choices.
Drew was myopic, so focused on raising their brothers and sister after their father’s logging accident that his oldest brother sometimes forgot most of them were grown now and able to make their own way. His younger brother James was too spontaneous, leaping into action without considering the consequences. John had his head in the clouds, always dreaming, and Levi was young enough that he tended to think only of himself. They all saw the world as they wanted it to be. He saw what it could be. Was it any wonder none of them realized the problems looming over the farm?
“I appreciate your faith in me,” Simon told the woman in front of him as the rest of his family headed to accept a piece of Maddie’s no-doubt delicious spice cake. “But I must decline.”
He pushed off the wall to follow them, and she darted in front of him once more. She was short; the top of her head came below his collarbone. But her figure in the lavender gown was sturdy, solid.
“Please,” she said, her gaze turned up to his and her face pinched. “Hear me out. You need land. As your wife, I can bring you one hundred and sixty acres.”
About to brush past her again, Simon paused. She was right, of course. He’d already tried to convince Drew and James to file for their wives, to no avail. With Catherine four months pregnant, Drew didn’t want to chance making her travel to Olympia to claim the land the law allowed her as his wife. And James, the only other one of them besides Drew and Simon to have earned his patent, was determined to claim the bluff overlooking the lake for the town site they had planned to honor their father’s memory. That land was no good for farming.
So it was all up to Simon to find a way to gain the much-needed farmland, even if the family budget would not extend that far. He had even identified the property—a good stretch of flat acreage running above his claim, his mother’s and Drew’s. He’d prayed for guidance, but as usual, he’d heard no answer.
But to marry a stranger? He’d never planned to marry, despite the fact that he’d threatened Drew with courting Catherine when his brother had proven reticent to add the pretty nurse to the family. Simon tended to bump heads with anyone close to him, no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps that was why God so often remained silent. It seemed Simon’s role in life to spot the flaw in any plan, to point out the error in misconceived ideas. Love, and faith, did not grow in that environment.
