Trinity: Bride of West Virginia (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 35) by Carré White Read Free Book Online Page A

bill. I believe Nathanial paid, but it doesn’t matter, because I only want to please you, Trinity. If pretty dresses and jewels make you happy, then you may have as many as you want.”
    Not knowing what to say, I murmured, “Thank you.” Yet, something in that statement bothered me. I never aspired to look like a woman of fashion. The only thing I had ever wanted was to feel love and be loved.
    “Now then, I shall go below by the back stair. You may make your grand entrance whenever you’re ready.” Because of the cane, he preferred to take the servant’s stairs, not wanting eyes on him as he labored to descend.
    “All right. I’m nearly ready.”
    He kissed my cheek, his lips feeling soft and cold. “You do make me very proud. I shall show you off to all and sundry this evening and watch the envy in their eyes. Who says a man cannot have a second chance at life, eh?”
    “I hope to never disappoint you.”
    “That would be impossible.” He squeezed my hand, his gaze lingering on the swell of skin, where diamonds sparkled, catching the light. “I would rather … well,” he grinned sheepishly, “I’d prefer to take the dress off you, but I realize now is not the moment.”
    I shivered, interpreting the gleam in his eye. “Penny went through a great deal of trouble arranging my hair.”
    “And I shall ruin it later,” he murmured. “But, now, we have guests.” He turned, ambling towards the door. “I will see you momentarily, my dear.”
    “Yes.”
    Not wanting to keep anyone waiting any longer, I breathed a deep, restorative breath, throwing my shoulders back. I prepared to face a roomful of strangers, Nathanial and my husband being among them. The day I spent shopping had been nothing short of magical, the approval shining in Nathanial’s eyes giving me such confidence. He had been extraordinarily patient, waiting for me to try on each outfit, then waiting even longer for the seamstress to pin the garments that needed to be tailored. No one said a word on the ride back to the house, the silence strangely companionable. We had each been in our own worlds.
    As I left the room, I heard the sounds of conversation, laughter ringing out, along with music, as a five piece orchestra played. The stairs were to the right, my hand on the railing, seeing the top of the chandelier, all its lights blazing, the crystals dangling. Ladies and gentlemen filled the foyer, most holding wineglasses. The aroma of perfume lingered, with the faint odor of tobacco.
    A twinge of nervous anticipation raced through me, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I felt eyes darting in my direction, men and women turning to stare. I faltered then, wanting to run away and hide in my room. What if I tripped in the new shoes and broke my neck? What if I stepped on the hem and tore the dress? It took every ounce of courage I possessed to lift my gaze from my feet, staring across the foyer at a man standing by the wall. I knew him at once, dressed in a black tailcoat and trousers, a light waistcoat peeking out from beneath.
    Nathanial held a glass of wine, his eyes glinting in the light, following my every move. Basking in his gaze, I soaked in the approval I found there, which buoyed my confidence. Our eyes locked, while I descended as regally as I could, my hand never once leaving the railing. At the bottom, Nathanial approached, cutting an elegant path through the throng of people.
    “I never expected this,” he murmured.
    “I know. It’s a miracle I didn’t fall.” I laughed nervously, feeling eyes upon me.
    “That’s not what I meant at all.” He took my hand, bringing it to his lips. “You’re perfection. What a transformation from that sorry mess I met at city hall.”
    “Well, you chose the right dress.”
    “That’s not it either.”
    “Ah,” said a voice loudly. “There she is!” Mr. Witherspoon approached, his eyes alight with pleasure. “May I present my wife, Mrs. Trinity Witherspoon.” He