A Matter of Marriage Read Free Page B

she
says. It’ll be easier in the long run. Miss Fairbanks is the owner and manager
of the Hotel Grand Victoria, and she has your best interests at heart.”
    Alex
nearly moaned aloud. Great. Just great. He rubbed his fingertips over the
stubble on his jaw. She was the one who would decide whether to hire him or not.
    “Theo
is a wise man, Mr. MacLean. He knows I won’t be able to rest until I’m sure you
have not been seriously injured. The Hotel Grand Victoria has a resident
physician and is well-known for the service it offers to its guests.”
    He
knew all about the solicitous courtesies of a first-class hotel, but that had
been another life. “I am not a guest,” he said as the bellboy disappeared
inside with his bag.
    “You’re
quibbling, Mr. MacLean. Once you’ve registered, you will be. Now, please, come
with me.”
    Alex
gave in. Irritating his future employer would be foolish. And Miss Fairbanks
would find out soon enough why he was here. Once they were inside, he would
splinter the illusion she held of being safe on the grounds of her hotel. “You’re
the boss. Which way?”
    “Follow
me.” She started toward a pathway along the exterior of a huge round room lined
with tall, double-hung windows. “The doctor’s home and office are in a cottage
on the other side of the Grand Ballroom.”
    Alex
tried to keep an eye out for another assault. However, his attention kept
veering to Miss Fairbanks and the innate elegance of her body’s movements. He
admired the bold purpose in her walk. She belonged here and she knew it. He
envied her that. He belonged nowhere, and his life had no purpose. Surviving
day-to-day wasn’t nearly enough for him, and it hadn’t been for a good while
now.
    Four
months ago in Oregon, he thought he’d found his sense of purpose again. Emma
Turner had treated him like a man instead of a monster. She hadn’t stirred him
the way Miss Fairbanks was doing, but Emma had eased his loneliness with
conversation and shared with him her dream of having a family. Alex had
realized then that, without family, without a wife and children to love and
provide for, he was nothing but a piece of flotsam drifting aimlessly on the
current. Wanting to remarry and settle down again, he had asked Emma to be his
wife.
    Horrified
by his proposal, she had unloaded her true feelings for him. What did she want
with a poor, appallingly scarred carpenter who kept his past to himself? She’d
only engaged him in conversation out of pity, and in hopes of attracting the
new preacher’s interest.
    Alex
had immediately taken to the road again, continuing his empty existence until
today, when a woman unlike any other needed his protection. Needed him. For a
moment, his life had purpose again, and it felt good.
    If
only that feeling could last.
    *   *   *
    Julia
stifled a residual shiver from her narrow escape and glanced back at the tall,
broad-shouldered man who had risked his own safety for hers. If Alex MacLean
hadn’t thrown himself at her, conveying her away from that flowerpot … well,
she would no longer have to worry about the looming deadline her father had set
for her.
    Finding
the right man had taken some doing and three false starts that wasted four of
the precious six months specified in her father’s will. Those men had seemed
like good prospects, but once each of them set eyes on her and found out who
she was, they became like salivating dogs. They had wanted more than she was
willing to offer, much more. She had settled on her fourth choice, Phillip
Williamson, an old friend who would not take advantage of her. He was due to
arrive today after a long journey from Pennsylvania. She expected him at any
moment, had been waiting for him on the veranda when Mr. MacLean arrived.
    Tomorrow,
she and Phillip would speak their vows, meeting the deadline with one day to
spare. She prayed nothing would go wrong. For the last few weeks, every time
she crossed another day off her calendar, Julia wished