The Marriage Mishap. Judith Stacy
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silence fell over the room, and Adam shifted uncomfortably.
He took her arm. “Aunt Izzy, my wife, Haley. Haley, this is my aunt, Isabelle Gladmore.”
Isabelle looked confused. “But what happened to—? Never mind, she had a strange aura, anyway.” She gave Haley a solid hug. “Welcome to the family, my dear.”
Despite her own heart’s pounding, Haley liked Isabelle immediately.
“I got the letters you sent, Aunt Izzy.” Kip’s eyes were bright. “Did you get to go to England?”
She dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. “England—boring, boring people there. No, dear, I sailed to Hawaii. Beautiful, pristine beaches and simple grass huts. I fell into a deep friendship with Queen Liliuokalani. She gave me my own island.”
“Gosh.”
“Can’t you just go places like other people?” Martin complained. “Proper places?”
Isabelle pinched her lips distastefully. “Winter in New York, spring in Europe, summer in Newport. No, thank you.”
“Where else did you go?” Kip asked anxiously.
“To the Far East, where I had an acquaintance with a Japanese baron. I visited Burma, and lived in the harem of an Indian maharaja—as an observer, of course.”
“What’s a harem?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Isabelle,” Martin barked. “Not in front of the boy.”
She turned to him. “And I didn’t forget my only brother. Wait until you see what I brought you from China.”
“Whatever it is, I don’t want it.”
“I’ve collected the most fabulous Oriental art.” She whirled to face Haley again. “You’ve got to see them.”
“I’ve got to,” she agreed. “You must come over soon.”
“You have your own home?” Isabelle eyed Adam. “So, one of you finally escaped this mausoleum. Good for you!”
“All right, all right, go get settled upstairs.” Martin waded into the cluster of people in the center of the room, dispersing them. “I guess you’re staying here.”
“How long will you be with us, Aunt Izzy?” Kip asked.
She patted his slim shoulders. “Until the wind whips in from the east and whispers that it’s time to go.”
Martin rolled his eyes. “Christ…”
“I’m glad you’re here, Aunt Izzy, because—”
“Wait!” She threw out her palm again and touched her temple. “I’m getting something.”
Kip’s eyes widened. “Another reading, Aunt Izzy?”
The room fell silent while Izzy closed her eyes, communing with some unknown force. After a moment, she shook it off. “Never mind. It was nothing. Stand aside, everyone. I have gifts to unpack.”
As they all headed out the door, Isabelle caught Adam’s arm. “I must speak with you,” she whispered.
Adam bent down. “What is it, Aunt Izzy?”
“It’s your wife. I’m picking up a strange reading from her.”
“From Haley?” Adam managed not to laugh at the concern that marked his aunt’s brow. She was a dear, and he loved her, mostly because of her eccentric behavior. She’d claimed to get strange readings from Kip and Gwen for years, but it meant nothing.
“Watch over her, Adam.”
“I will, Aunt Izzy.”
She laid her hand on his arm and looked up solemnly at him. “Something is amiss with that young woman, I just can’t pinpoint it. Watch over her closely. A life hangs in the balance.”
It was only a door.
Adam rolled the glass of bourbon between his palms and contemplated the carved wood and the brass knob before him. Not only was it merely a door, it was his door. He’d designed it, he’d selected the wood and hardware, he’d overseen its installation— he’d even paid for the damn thing. He could open it if he wanted to. Right?
Wrong.
He sagged against the door frame of his own bedchamber, staring across the sitting room at Haley’s door. She was in there. A crack of light shone on the carpet. It had been silent in there for a few minutes now. Chrissy had gone, surely. Haley was ready for bed.
His insides flamed; they’d been simmering all evening, even at his father’s house. The woman was driving him crazy with want. Whatever she possessed that had caused him to marry her on the spur of the moment still plagued him. And unless he started doing something about it, he’d be in no condition to be seen in public ever again.
Adam set his glass aside and approached the door. He’d planned to give her a few more nights before he paid a call; he’d thought it the decent thing to do, given that they had skipped the courtship and gone straight to the honeymoon. And once he’d formulated a plan, he didn’t change it. But now he had to deal with extenuating circumstances, which were pressing against his fly. That made a change in plans more than acceptable.
However, the problem of the closed door remained. Adam rubbed his hands together. He was setting a precedent here. If he knocked, he’d be obligated to knock every time. He didn’t like asking permission for anything.
Adam opened the door slowly. “Haley?”
She sat on the bench in front of the vanity, studying her reflection in the large oval mirror as she brushed her hair. Turning, she looked surprised, but not shocked; it pleased him.
Adam gazed around. “All settled?”
She turned back to the mirror and ran the brush through her hair. “Yes, I think so.”
“Good, good.” He eased across the room and stood behind her where he could view both her back and her front reflected in the mirror. She wore a longsleeved dressing gown that covered her ankles and buttoned up to a high collar. It was white, and made her look very pure and innocent.
Adam slid his hands in his pockets, jingling his coins. “Sorry about Aunt Izzy.”
Haley stroked the brush through her hair and glimpsed his reflection in the mirror. He wore the same dark suit he’d worn to dinner, but his jacket was off, the sleeves of his white shirt turned back, exposing his hairy wrists; his collar stood open.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “I loved your aunt.”
“She’s a crazy old bird.” He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. “Her and her…readings.”
“I liked her.”
“She travels extensively, knows people from one end of the globe to the other. She’s been married three times that I know of. Martin claims more than that.”
“So many husbands?” Haley’s gaze met his in the mirror. “How does she get rid of them all?”
The gleam in her eye unsettled him. “Never mind.”
A moment passed while Adam studied the vanity. An assortment of delicate porcelain bottles, decanters and jars sat there, pale blue, pink. There was a green atomizer with a feather sticking out, and a huge powder puff. A jeweled hand mirror and comb lay to one side. Mysterious woman things. It smelled good here. He liked it.
“Who is Amelia?”
Adam’s heart rose in his throat. His gaze dropped to the carpet, and he studied