Summer Brides: Bride Wanted / Hasty Wedding

“More wine?” she asked nervously. The rice was cooking in a covered pot and the chicken was simmering in a delicious-smelling sauce. Alek appeared relaxed and at ease while Julia calculated how many steps it would take to reach the front door.

Alek shook his head. “No more wine for me.”

“I’ll set the table,” she said, slipping down from the stool and moving into the dining room. Soon he’d know. Soon he’d discover what a phony she was. He’d learn that she was a liar and a cheat and a coward.

Her hands were trembling as she set the silverware on the table. She added water glasses, anything to delay returning to the kitchen. To Alek.

He’d filled up their plates when she walked back into the room. Julia didn’t know if she could eat a single bite, and she watched transfixed as he carried their meal into the dining room.

“Julia, my love.”

“I’m not your love,” she told him coolly, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

His grin was slow. Undisturbed. “Not yet, perhaps, but you will be.”

She closed her eyes, afraid to imagine what might come next.

“Let us eat,” Alek said, taking her unresisting hand and leading her to a chair. With impeccable manners, he held it out for her, then seated himself.

“This is very nice,” she said. The smells were heavenly. In other circumstances she would have appreciated his culinary skills.

“My sister is an excellent cook,” he said casually. He removed the linen napkin from the table and spread it across his lap. “If you agree, she will prepare our meals once she arrives from Russia. She’ll welcome the job and it’ll simplify her receiving a visa.”

“Of course…” Julia was more than willing to be generous with his family.

“You are nervous?” Alek asked, after several bites. Julia hadn’t managed even one taste.

“Yes.”

He grinned. “Understandably. Don’t worry, I will be gentle with you.”

Julia’s heart plummeted.

“I admire you, Julia. It isn’t any woman who would accept the terms of our marriage. You are brave as well as beautiful. I feel fortunate to have married you.”

Four (#u239a6127-62a5-5f95-acbb-9e2f453bfff4)

Julia vaulted to her feet, startling Alek. Her hand clutched the pink linen napkin as though it were a life-line, and her dark eyes filled with tears.

“Julia?”

“I can’t do it! I can’t go through with it… You expect me to share a bed and for us to live like a normal married couple, but I just can’t do it. I lied…everything’s a lie. I’m sorry, Alek, truly sorry.”

“You agreed to my terms,” he reminded her without rancor. She was pale and trembling and it disturbed him to see her in such emotional torment. He would have liked to take her in his arms and comfort her, but he could see she wouldn’t welcome his touch.

“I was overwrought. I…I didn’t know what I was doing. Everything happened so fast.”

Alek considered her words and slowly shook his head. “You knew.”

She retreated a couple of steps. “I’ve had a change of heart. It’s understandable, given the circumstances.”

It pained him to see her so distraught, but she’d willingly agreed to his stipulations, and there’d been ample opportunity for her to speak her mind before the wedding. Calmly he pointed this out.

“You didn’t have to go through with the ceremony, but you did,” he said. “You wanted this marriage, but you refuse to admit it even to yourself.” He stared at her, demanding that she relent and recognize her foolishness. They were married, and she was his wife. There was no going back now.

“I…I felt I had no choice. Jerry was convinced that marrying you was the only way to keep you in the country. My grandmother’s dying and she likes you, believes in you, and it seemed, I don’t know, it just felt like the right thing to do at the time.”

“But now it doesn’t?” he asked calmly, despite his mounting frustration.

“No,” she said emphatically. “It doesn’t feel the least bit right.”

Alek rubbed his hand over his chin as he contemplated her words. “You Americans have many sayings I do not understand. There is one expression I remember and it seems to fit this situation.”

“What’s that?”

“Hogwash.”

Julia went speechless. Once she’d composed herself, she tilted her head regally and glared at him. Alek suspected she used this cold, haughty regard to intimidate those who dared to differ with her. A mere look was incapable of daunting him or distracting him from his purpose. It was apparent his bride had much to learn about him.

“Have you so little pride,” she asked disdainfully, “that you’d hold me to an agreement I made when I was emotionally distraught?”

Alek was impressed with her ability to twist an argument. “Pride,” he echoed slowly. “I am a proud man. But what are you, Julia? Have you so little honor that you would renege on an agreement made in good faith and expect me to accept weak excuses?”

Her face reddened and she slumped into her chair.

“I’ve fulfilled my part of the bargain,” he continued. “Is it wrong or unjust to expect you to live up to yours? I think not. You have what you wanted, what you needed. Therefore, shouldn’t you satisfy my demands?”

She scowled at him and even though an entire room separated them, Alek could feel the heat of her outrage. “You ask too much,” she muttered.

“All I ask is that you be my wife—share my life and bear our children.”

Tears marked her pale cheeks. “You have every right to be angry, every right to curse me, but I can’t be your wife the way you want.”

“It’s too late to change your mind.” His voice was flat and hard. “We are married. You spoke your vows, you signed your name to the document. There is no turning back now. I suggest you forget this foolishness and finish your meal.”

“Please try to understand. This isn’t easy for me, either. I’ve been sick with guilt. I don’t want to cheat you…I never wanted that.”

Alek sighed, his patience shrinking. “You’re beginning to sound like a disobedient child.”

“You’re correct about one thing,” she said, gesturing beseechingly with her hands. “I should’ve said something sooner. I should never have gone through with the ceremony, but it’s not too late. I’m saying something now.”

“We are married.” He sat down at the table and reached for his fork. He refused to give her the satisfaction of thinking her arguments had troubled him.

In abject frustration, Julia threw her hands in the air. “You’re impossible!”

“Perhaps,” he said readily enough. “But you are my wife and, as you yourself have agreed, you shall remain so.”

Without another word she stormed out of the dining room. He heard her in the kitchen banging around pots and pans, but couldn’t tell what she was doing. He finished his meal, although his appetite had long since deserted him.