“Oh, I think you’ve done about enough, thank you.”
“What do you mean?”
Clearly her husband was pursuing some course of his own, down some highway and byway that she could not follow. His hold on the reins had grown slack, so that Reuben, taking advantage of such inattention, had slowed his pace along the dirt track to snatch the occasional mouthful of fresh grass. So much tastier out here in the open than penned in by the livery stable’s corral fence.
“I was under the impression,” said Quinn distantly, “that you and your family were independently wealthy.”
“Perhaps you skimmed over some vital information in the only two letters I was able to send you.” Taken aback, Molly had drawn slightly aside from the man she had just promised to love, honor, and obey. “I explained that, once upon a time, the Burtons were quite well-to-do. But my adopted father gambled everything away. Very little was left to us girls, once the debts were paid.”
“Huh. So you have nothing?”
A sick little shiver took up residence in her middle, and stayed there. What was going on? Where was this coming from? And, if this were the true face of the husband she had married, how could she have gone so wrong?
“I didn’t keep any deep dark secrets from you, Quinn. Why have you
started on this now, of all times?”
“Unlike you, my love, I asked questions. During our dinner, I talked with all three of your sisters. I even checked with that boring new brother-in-law of mine.”
“Does that mean you are disappointed?”
“Well, I sure ain’t happy about it.”
Molly drew in a deep breath. If some huge mistake had been made, it was hers. Lack of foresight; lack of maturity—the decision, once done, was irrevocable. And now, somehow, she must deal with it.
At the tender age of nineteen, being forced to confront an error in judgment for the rest of your lifetime would seem like sounding a death knell, and a lifetime in the wrong set of circumstances can seem like forever.
She must try to understand, and to clear the air.
“Quinn, I don’t see—you and I, we didn’t discuss anything of this during the week we were getting to know each other. I’m sorry; certainly I was at fault for not pressing more, as my sisters wanted me to do, but—”
“Oh, your sisters wanted to horn in on our tying the knot?” He slanted her a sideways look that was neither flattering nor reassuring.
“Well, no. N-N-Not what you think. Only that I’m young and—and naïve...and they felt that I—I ought to wait—a little longer...”
“In other words, no marriage. After I came all the way from Kansas, at my own expense, only because you wouldn’t leave this hick town.”
Their surrey was moving slowly along, unheeded by its driver. The slight bump and sway of the iron-rimmed wheels on a soft dirt road was causing her head to ache and her middle to feel like a dish of very undercooked custard. Or was that the result of the champagne she had imbibed at her celebratory dinner?
Was it his own consumption of too many alcoholic beverages that seemed to be changing his attitude for the worse? Had he gone just a step beyond being mildly intoxicated to being a step away from falling-down drunk? From yesterday till today, it was as if Quinn were two different individuals; and this one, a bit coarse, impatient, irritable, was not a pleasant one.
Anger seemed to be simmering in him like some potent force, an anger that was as inexplicable as it was sudden, and she desperately longed for an older, wiser authority to give her advice. How did one defuse a potentially volatile situation?
“Well.” Even as she attempted to scoot closer, to snuggle against his arm, Molly could feel him stiffen. “Things will work out, won’t they? I have faith that the two of us together can make quite a mark in life.”
“Do you? I don’t. Especially without the sizable fortune I assumed you had to back us up.”
“Quinn!” Staring at him in dismay, she couldn’t prevent the tears from welling up. “Is that the only r-r-reason you married me?”
His gaze slid over her, from perky little straw hat topped by pink roses to embraceable curves covered in pink and white lawn to fresh white shoes. It was not the loving gaze of a newlywed husband; it was the calculating, insulting scrutiny of a harem master inspecting the wares of a new recruit, and under it Molly blushed.
“Of course not. You’re a looker, for sure.” His free hand covered her knee in an intimate, cloying clasp that should have been enjoyable but felt, instead, somehow unclean. “I expect we’ll have us some high times, all right. But plenty of money in the bank would’ve given us a much better start to everything we want to do. It’s sure hard to get past the fact that I feel hoodwinked.”
So. Because he hadn’t understood about her financial situation, prior to their wedding—even though she had tried, in her correspondence, to explain—he had decided to punish her now with questionable living arrangements, miles from her family.
Quinn was taking in the surrounding scenery—much more wooded, on this road, secluded and solitary. Even the birdsong and the occasional rustle of branches sounded subdued.
“From what I’ve heard around town, Forrester has got a pot of cash laid by,” Quinn said then, as if to himself. “I could probably hit him up for some kinda advance in any business venture I might wanna start. He couldn’t say no, with you married to me.”