Sterling was probably too rough when he pushed Mary down into the chair. He took the hat that she acted determined to hold on her head. She must not be thinking straight. She was a fixer, a peacemaker; she probably had not thoroughly considered her far-too-tempting offer.

He knew that it was all wrong. To have one sister throw him over and the other pick him up just in time for an already scheduled wedding.

“Would it bother you that much to see all your preparations go to waste?”

She made a sound between a squeak and a moan.

He turned and crouched before her chair. “Mary, your offer is most generous, but I cannot think that you are doing this because it is what you want. Are you again trying to fix everything for everyone else?”

She averted her head and wadded her sister’s letter in her curled fingers. “I am so sorry. I didn’t want you hurt or embarrassed.”

“I’ve survived much worse things in my life.” Actually, he was not nearly as hurt by his intended’s defection as he should be. He was relieved.

“I know I am not as pretty as Suzanna, but the invitations went out without a name. A few people would be surprised, but I should imagine they would keep their own council.”

He wrapped her clenched fists in his own hands. Since she was prettier than her sister, he dismissed her objections as meaningless. “But Mary, what do you want?”

She looked at him then, her brown eyes dark pools in her pale face. Her hands trembled. “My wants are simple. I’ve told you before.”

She snatched her hands out of his grasp and ducked around him, moving in a walk-run toward the front door. “I will post a notice on the church door. The guests will arrive soon, and I have to tell my father. I am so sorry this has turned out so badly.”

He reached around her and held the door. “Mary, wait. We aren’t done discussing this.”

“We don’t have time to talk about it. I understand. I shall make it clear that my sister is the one who has fled for no good reason.”

He reached for her waist and slid his arms around her. He’d wanted to hold her like this since the first moment she’d opened the door to him. With her back to him, she stiffened. He released her. “Can you fit in Suzanna’s wedding gown?”

“No!”

His heart thumped irregularly. Did she already think better of her offer?

He took a deep breath. “I would be honored if you would marry me, but you deserve better than this hurry scurry, last minute substitution for your sister.” Hell, she deserved to be asked, to be courted, to be assured of his affection.

“I’ll be fine. I have a dress I can wear, unless you’d rather not.” She reached for the doorknob again.

“I’d much rather marry you.”

“Then I have to get ready.” She fled out the door as if the hounds of hell were on her heels.

There was so much he should have said, but suddenly everything felt surreal. He should have offered to inform her father. He should have reassured her that she was the sister he wanted to marry. He should have told her he was more than half in love with her.

Although after the way she reacted when he reached out to hold her, that should more likely frighten and confuse her. She was so constant in her emotions and deeds, the seemingly abrupt transfer of his affection from her sister to her would strike her wrong. She would think him as changeable as the tides. When in truth he had known for a long time he had asked the wrong sister to marry him. But he gone to considerable lengths to keep that knowledge to himself.

He yanked his fingers through his hair.

* * *

Mary flew into the house and ran up the stairs. She felt both giddy and galled at her own audacity. Oh, goodness, she had grabbed at what she wanted with both hands and little consideration for anyone else’s feelings.

She would marry Sterling.

Her stomach knotted. She didn’t fool herself. His response had been tepid. In the end she hadn’t known why he agreed. She didn’t want to know. She just wanted it done.

She vowed to herself to be a good wife, the best helpmate ever so he would never regret his acceptance of her offer to stand-in for her sister.

His far-too-generous generous assessment of her reasoning was wrong. She wasn’t doing it to make things better for him or anyone else. She had offered herself in her sister’s place because she wanted Sterling for herself. She wanted his easy smile and friendly nature. She admired his longing to found a lasting legacy to leave his children. And she wanted him because when he had put his arms around her, she had been singed by a burning pleasure that must surely spring from the fires of hell.

His embrace had startled her so much her only thought at the time was that it was wrong to enjoy his touch. She had wanted to melt into him; instead she fled.

She peeled back the muslin covering from the wedding gown her mother had worn years ago and cried out. The satin had aged. What had been a gleaming white gown had mellowed into ivory and cream. It was a sign that she was not pure enough in heart to wear white.

She was scheming and evil and about to get her deepest, darkest wish fulfilled.

She told herself not to think and took great care with the dress. The style was not current, with the material flat across the abdomen and the small bustle in the back.

Mary rang for a maid as she stripped her day dress off. She was shaking like a leaf when the maid finally had her corset strings laced and yanked as tight as a hangman’s noose. The long row of buttons down the back of the wedding gown was fastened. Now, Mary had to tell her father, she would be the bride instead of Suzanna.

A sudden wave of dizziness reminded her she could not move quickly. As tightly as she was laced she could not breathe deeply. She would be miserable before the day was over, but she didn’t wish to risk any strain on the old seams of her mother’s wedding gown. It would be too just a punishment if she split her seams in front of the extensive guest list Suzanna had insisted upon.

Now, that Mary was alone in the last few minutes before marrying Sterling, her reasoning seemed the height of absurdity. That Sterling and she got along well enough and he didn’t seem any more fond of Suzanna than he was of her, didn’t mean he wanted to be married to Mary.

“Mary, what’s wrong?” Her father asked.

She released the newel post at the bottom of the stairs.

“Are you wearing your mother’s gown? You look lovely, my dear, but I thought Suzanna was the one getting married.”

“Suzanna’s run away to London.”

“Oh, dear.” Her father straightened his gloves. “Well, I expected as much. Headstrong, just like Lydia. You don’t mean to fool her intended into thinking you’re Suzanna, do you?”

“No, I talked to him this morning and offered myself as substitute.” Surely, her father would save her from herself and call the whole thing off.

“Ah, well, he is good fellow, and I shall be glad to welcome him into the family. I daresay, he’ll have an easier time of it with you. Shall we go? The carriage is waiting.”

Oh heavens, would no one save her from herself? Perhaps Sterling would have come to his senses and not be at the chapel.

She nearly collapsed as she was handed into the festooned-with-ribbons-and-roses carriage drawn by the white horses, which her gown did not match. Black spots danced before her eyes and perhaps the maid had pulled her corset strings too tight. Mary had held onto the bedpost and urged tighter, tighter, until they were both exhausted. She bit her lips to restrain an impulse to giggle.

* * *

Sterling watched his bride slowly walk up the center aisle of the church. Mary rested her free hand on her father’s arm and held herself rigidly straight, stretching for every inch of height she could muster, no doubt. He’d half-feared that Suzanna would have danced up to the alter.

The unusual cut of Mary’s gown emphasized her hourglass figure, and Sterling swallowed hard. Was her waist really that tiny? She was beautiful, dignified and extraordinarily pale.

She looked as if she was on her way to her funeral not her own wedding. Was her distress because she heard the gasps of guests who had expected to see her sister?

Sterling shifted his gaze to the nosegay of pink roses in her trembling hand. His heart pounded heavily. Did she find marrying him a colossal sacrifice?

His worry increased as she chewed her rosebud lip while her father handed her over. She met his eyes only briefly during the ceremony as she gave her answers and vows in a shallow, breathy voice unlike her normal tones. Her gaze remained fixed in the neighborhood of his chin. She swayed, and he reached out to steady her, putting a hand against the tiny span of her waist. She shuddered and then continued to tremble.

He couldn’t tell if his touch comforted her or not. He wanted to whisper reassurances to her, but he had never heard two hundred people so silent with all their attention trained on them.

The ceremony seemed interminably long as his concern for Mary grew. Why had she suggested this if she hadn’t wanted to marry him? But he searched his mind to come back to what she had said. She wanted to be married. He could guess from her enthusiasm over her new niece, she wanted children. Was he just a means to an end? Would any man do, since the man she wanted to marry was long dead?

Then the ceremony was over, and he leaned over to brush a kiss on her mouth. The brief touch of his lips to hers finished too quickly. He supposed he could have taken longer, but he was reminded that he had never kissed Mary before, and she had been startled when he tried to embrace her earlier in the day.

He kept an arm firmly around her tiny waist after the ceremony, although she tried several times to put space between them. But she just didn’t feel steady. Her breathing was too shallow and her skin too pale. Standing next to her tiny frame he felt hulking and overpowering. Perhaps, his size scared her.

Finally they moved to an assembly hall where, after they received everyone’s well wishes, they sat down to an elaborate dinner. Mary pushed her food around on her plate. He encouraged her to eat, but she shook her head.

“You must eat,” he repeated.

Her brown eyes suddenly looked too moist. “Truly, I cannot.”

Feeling bewildered that he couldn’t ease her tension, he looked around the room. For once the crowd’s attention was diverted by the meal instead of focused squarely on him and Mary. “Everything has gone well, wonderfully well.”

She nodded and looked miserable.

“You did an amazing job.”

“A small ceremony would have been nice.”

Less people to witness her substitution for her sister? Less people to know of her sacrifice? Less people to explain to later if she decided to have the marriage annulled?

The only time she looked hopeful during the ceremony was when the minister spoke his bit about, speak now or forever hold your peace, as if she hoped a savior might leap up and protest her marriage to him.

He leaned close to her. “Are you all right? You look pale.”

She dipped her head down. “I never look my best in white.”

“It’s not the dress.”

“I know, it is not quite white.”

“The dress is beautiful, and you are beautiful in it.”

She bit her lip and mumbled a thank-you that sounded more like a protestation.

Good lord, he hadn’t complimented his bride. She was so tiny and perfectly curved and he wanted to explore all those curves, yet she looked more miserable than a whipped dog. His thoughts spun in a vicious circle. He wanted her alone, but he didn’t want to scare her.

The only thing he was sure of was that she acted as if she had made a mistake. He wanted to lose his formal clothes and sprawl back in his chair with his heels kicked up on the rungs.

Was the dress the one she intended to wear in her marriage to her captain?

“How much longer does this go on?” he asked.

A guest heard his impatient comment, and the double entendres and nudges started. Sterling resisted the urge to clap his hands over Mary’s ears. They weren’t so wrong. He, like every bridegroom, wanted his bride alone, naked, and in his arms. How innocent was she?

While everything was muted and toned down from the kind of raucous celebration his California cronies would have thrown for him, his thoughts jumped ahead to the night ahead. He didn’t want to scare her, so he would be deliberate and gentle.

Mary took a timid look around the company and said, “There will be dancing after dinner.” She looked down at her lap where her hands twisted together. “We can leave whenever you want.”

Now, there was encouragement. He’d be damned if he dragged her away from her elaborately prepared reception. He’d just have to exercise patience. And he’d exercise restraint when he got her home. He wanted a lifetime with Mary, and he wouldn’t risk ruining their future by being too demanding or impatient or not understanding.

He knew this had all happened too fast for her. Her behavior today was clear as a bell. He would go slow if it killed him. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “You tell me when it is an appropriate time to take you home.”

She swallowed hard. He heard it.

“Don’t fret so. Everything is fine.”

She cast a quick glance at him and looked even more upset than before. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t know what to do or say to calm her down, and he’d thought Suzanna was high-strung.

* * *

Mary was just plain miserable. Guilt that she had trapped Sterling into this marriage swamped her. Her wedding day should be the happiest in her life, and she was just plain sick with worry. Aside from her biggest fear that she had urged Sterling into a marriage he didn’t want, she worried that her father would not eat without her there to urge him to the table. She worried that her sister was in a horrible predicament, and she worried that her corset was mashing her insides so tight, she’d never be able to conceive a child.

She didn’t even want to finish that thought, because every time Sterling touched her she couldn’t breathe. Which was half corset and half her reaction to him. The last thing she wanted to do was let Sterling realize how very enamored of him she was. She didn’t want him to think she had anything to do with her sister’s flight. She didn’t want him to think she had planned to step into her sister’s shoes. She didn’t want him thinking she was a schemer and a manipulator, even if she was.

After dinner was cleared away and the musicians had played for some time, she stretched up on her toes and said, “We could leave now.”

Please, let him be ready because she needed out of this dress and her laces loosened. She felt heat creeping up her face.

“You are ready?” Sterling asked.

Ready for what? She nodded uncertain of what she was agreeing she was ready for. Sterling had his hand at her back, and he guided her toward her father.

“Take good care of my Mary.” Her father hugged her and gave her a pat.

“Will you be all right, Papa?”

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart. I survived the month you spent at your brother’s house, now didn’t I?”

“Yes, and will you send someone to see after Suzanna?”

“She’ll be fine with her Aunt Lydia. If anyone can talk on her level, my sister will.” Her father shook her head. “Go on, you need to take care of your husband now.”

He reached out and shook Sterling’s hand. “Welcome to the family, son. Come by for dinner after you two get settled in.”

Sterling struck her as the last person in the world who needed caretaking. What had she done, marrying a man who needed little of her strongest skills?

They left the hall she had rented for the reception. The slanting late evening sunlight outside startled her. Even though it had been midday when the ceremony began, Mary felt as if an eon had passed. It should surely be dark. But no, there was plenty of light as they moved through the gauntlet of well-wishers.

Sterling lifted her into the carriage she had hired. He barely had the door shut when he asked again, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She felt heat stealing into her face. She sat up straight as much as she could trying to ease the pressure of her corset.

“At least now you have some color.”

Mary felt so flustered she didn’t know what to say. She glanced around. Sterling looked so solemn. Had he smiled at all today? Yes, but not when looking at her.

Sterling reached up and loosened the ascot around his neck. “Are you afraid?”

“No. Of course not.”

“You’ve been as jumpy as water drops on a scalding hot griddle all through the day. What is wrong?” He folded his arms across his chest.

Besides her laces being tied so tight she could barely breathe? He might be her husband, but she really wasn’t ready to share that with him. Oh, goodness, he was her husband and a man who knew how water behaved on a hot griddle. “I...I am afraid I tricked you into marrying me.”

He looked at her sideways. “With what trickery? Did you force your sister write those letters and then make her run away?”

Mary blinked. She had almost forgotten Sterling had known Suzanna ran away before she did. And she didn’t know what her sister’s letter to him had said.

“It’s done. Unless you want an annulment, it’s for the rest of our lives.”

“Do you want an annulment?” she asked and her voice squeaked unnaturally. That he had even thought of that option told her how little enthusiasm he had for the course they followed.

“And go through that circus again? God no.”

Mary felt a small bubble of amusement break free. At least he considered marriage to her ranking above the horror of going through an overblown wedding ceremony.

Sterling smiled at her gently, encouragingly. “I believe I did better than I expected to.”

Mary ducked her head not sure if he meant surviving his wedding day with all the guests or more than that. Besides she couldn’t look at him long because it would adversely affect her breathing.

The carriage pulled up in front of his house, and he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her down before she could climb down the step. “You are so tiny.”

Tiny? She was short, but too full-figured to ever be considered tiny or anything so feminine as dainty. She shook her head as she climbed the stairs to the front stoop.

Sterling spoke to the coachman tipping him, then dismissing him.

She breathed an abbreviated sigh. Finally, she would be able to loosen her laces—except she didn’t have a single stitch of clothes here.

Oh my goodness! She couldn’t get out of the overly tight laces with nothing to wear. She pivoted and slammed into Sterling’s chest. “I have to go home.”

“Mary, you are home.” He wrapped one arm around her and reached behind her to unlock the door.

She heard the door swing open with a sense of impending doom. She couldn’t stand the thought of staying trussed up any longer. “I don’t have any clothes here. I need just a few things.”

“No, you don’t. Not tonight.” He scooped her up with one arm under her knees and one arm behind her shoulders.

Alarmed, she clutched his shoulders while her head spun from a lack of oxygen. “I can’t stay in this dress any longer.”

“Good.” Sterling kicked the door shut behind him.

Oh! He meant to...they would...consummate their marriage. Oh heavens. In all the anxiety of the day she had only tried to get through each minute as it came. She hadn’t really thought about the wedding night. Or if she had thought about it, she had dismissed the normal course of events because their marriage was so abnormal. “It’s still light out.”

“You prefer the dark?” He grinned down at her.

She was mesmerized by his deep dimples and the amusement in his eyes. “Yes, no. I don’t know.”

He carried her still, but they hadn’t moved to the stairs. They would need a bed, wouldn’t they? Lord, she didn’t even have anything to sleep in. “I’ll...I’ll need a nightgown.”

“You can use one of my nightshirts. Can’t stand the damn things anyway. Don’t know how you keep them down.”

She swallowed hard. So they would be sharing a bed, she knew that, had expected that. She could act as if discussing one’s sleep wear with a husband was normal. “So what do you sleep in?”

“In the summer, as little as possible.”

She felt her face heating up. More than her face.

“So what do you think? Do you like the furniture?”

Mary had to break her gaze away from Sterling’s chin and look at the front parlor. The drapes and carpets she had picked out were there. Couches, chairs and cabinets in rich mahogany wood were cozily grouped around the room. He’d had purchased furniture in modern designs replete with carved grape leaves, slender cabriole legs and whorled feet. Different from her father’s home, yet similar enough to soothe her. It was not the empty space she had seen before, it was now a home, her home with Sterling. “It’s lovely.”

“We can rearrange whenever you want. There’s more rooms to be done, but this should get us by for now.”

“Are there any servants?”

“Not yet.” He headed for the entry hall and the staircase. “Cook starts tomorrow.”

She grew anxious. She was alone in the house with Sterling. “I can walk.”

He set her down on the bottom step, but kept his hands on her waist. She was not quite on eye level with him and his wry expression. “Sure you want to?”

She nodded jerkily.

“How about I fix you a cup of tea and light the fire under the water tank. That way you can have a nice warm relaxing bath before bed.”

He stroked her waist. Warmth might be unneeded, relaxation probably impossible, losing her corset would be heaven.

Uncertain she gave a tiny nod. Him seeing her without her corset scared her. He might be disgusted.

He pulled her against him, and she revealed in the strong secure feeling of his chest. She was both frightened and reassured. His right hand shifted to the nape of her neck and he made a soothing sound. “Don’t worry so. Everything will be fine. Go on up. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He was taking care of her needs, and she should be so much calmer if she was easing him in some way, but how? She climbed the stairs and walked into the bedroom. She gripped the bedpost trying to breathe deeply enough to stop the black spots from dancing before her eyes.

Anticipation and dread mingled in her squished but empty stomach. What if he didn’t want to consummate their marriage? Why was he sending her on ahead alone?

All too soon he was behind her, pulling the drapes closed, blocking the orange glow of a setting sun. It was too early for bed. He lit a lamp beside the bed before moving to the dresser. There he pulled out a white garment. Then he stood in front of her with it held up to her shoulders.

“See this will be plenty long enough although you’ll have to roll up the sleeves.” He draped the nightshirt over the foot of the bed. “I thought you wanted out of that dress.”

There was no way she could get that long row of tiny buttons down her back undone. “I need a maid.”

“Guess, I’m it.”

“Oh.” A shudder passed through her, and she looked up at him.

Sterling ran his index finger down the side of her face. “Did I tell you how beautiful you looked today in that gown?”

She drew in a sharp breath and nearly choked. She shook her head, not trusting her voice. Tears stung at her eyes, he was so kind. She hadn’t looked good today. Her color had been non-existent or too high. Pale clothing didn’t suit her. It made her skin look sallow. With her dark hair, reds, wines, and jade greens suited her best.

He gave her a crooked smile. “No, really. The way the dress shows your perfect curves, I was stunned when you walked down the aisle.”

His tone sounded sincere, but Mary was unused to compliments unless they were about how helpful she was. She bit her lip.

“Don’t do that.” With the pad of his thumb he touched her bottom lip. Then he stroked across it. “You have the sweetest mouth.”

She wanted to believe that comment. She wanted to understand why that brief touch of her lip left her so hungry. She wanted to know why her blood felt thick.

His hands found her waist and he lifted her onto the bottom stair of the bed steps. Her eyes were level with his nose and then he kissed her.

For a moment she didn’t know how to respond, and this was more intense than the peck he had given her in the church. His lips clung and pressed to hers. Then the tip of his tongue tested the seam of her mouth. Startled and intrigued, she let her jaw loosen. He adjusted the tilt of her head, and the kiss deepened.

A part of her wanted to draw back and say, oh is this how it is done, and a part of her was shocked that Sterling would touch her tongue with his, and the biggest part of her wanted to explore these new worlds.

He lifted her arms and placed them around his neck.

Oh, she was horribly inept. She should have done that without his prompting. She tried to follow his movements and imitate them, but then his body pressed against hers. Shock wave after shock wave traveled through her. He held her tight against him with one hand, and with the other he stroked her side.

His slow caresses gradually lengthened until he slid his hand over her hip to the top of her thigh and back up, slowly up, and up until his hand curled around her breast, while his kiss went on and on.

Mary felt like she could shatter into a thousand pieces every part of her tingled so. He slid his hand down and farther down her leg, then back up, this time adding slow circles against the full flesh of her breast. The coolness of air wafted against the back of her neck, and she realized Sterling was methodically releasing the long row of buttons.

Her head swam, and her body rioted with sensations, only then did she realize she had forgotten to breathe. She pulled back from his kiss, but now it was too late to draw in enough air to hold back the closing darkness. “No...o,” she moaned as the last tiny circle of light closed into nothingness.