Noelle Marchand

The Runaway Bride


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      The man looked as if he’d aged a few years since entering the office, but he nodded. “I see. Continue.”

      “Well, that’s it.”

      “What do you mean ‘that’s it’?”

      Sean shrugged. “There’s nothing more to tell.”

      Lorelei pinned her father with her blue gaze and a raised eyebrow. “Were you expecting more, Papa?”

      “Don’t be smart with me, young lady,” he said even as his skin appeared to flush a bit.

      “In defense of my honor as a gentleman and Lorelei’s as a lady, I would like you to know our behavior was circumspect on the trip home. She slept on one side of the campfire and I slept on the other.” He met Richard’s gaze. “I mean this as no insult to your daughter’s sensibilities, but I want you to know I never touched her.”

      “All right, I get the point and I appreciate you making it.” Richard shook his head. Rising to his feet again, he began to pace. He turned to face them. “I understand what happened wasn’t your fault, and I believe you when you say you began the trip with a chaperone. I do, but I’m afraid that Mrs. Drake’s account…”

      “It’s embellished, to say the least,” Sean said.

      “Perhaps so.” He agreed. “That isn’t the only thing that concerns me. This letter was hand-delivered to me by Mrs. Greene. She is aware of the contents and was quite adamant that I do something to fix the predicament.”

      “No wonder she glared at me in the bank,” Lorelei muttered.

      Sean grimaced. Mrs. Greene and his family didn’t have the best history. After his parents’ death, she’d taken it upon herself to guide their orphaned family on the straight and narrow. Unfortunately, that somehow translated into her being rather harsh and overly critical in her judgment of them. She was hardest on Ellie but wasn’t particularly fond of Sean, either. He cleared his throat. “Surely you can just explain to her that there has been a mistake.”

      Richard shook his head. “I suggested that idea in my office, but she stood by her niece’s account and painted a picture of the incident that whipped me into a fury. Sorry about that, Sean.”

      “It’s understandable, sir. I reckon I’d act the same way if I had a daughter.”

      He stopped pacing to face them. “Even if we could prove your chaperone abandoned you, the fact remains that you traveled alone for days in the wilderness.”

      “It wasn’t our fault,” Lorelei insisted.

      “No, but can you imagine the scandal? It could easily be construed that you two had some sort of affair only days after you were supposed you marry another man. If word gets around about this…” He shook his head and sat back down.

      “Knowing Mrs. Greene,” Sean interjected, “she may have already told everyone.”

      “I asked her to let me deal with this my own way first. She promised she’d keep quiet until I speak to her again but vowed that if I didn’t hold you accountable she’d make sure the town would.”

      Sean clenched his fist. “What does that mean exactly?”

      “We don’t want to find out.” Richard turned to Lorelei. “I need to talk to your mother about this. We’ll decide together what to do.”

      “But, Papa—”

      He shook his head. “I think its best that you go on home. I’ll be there shortly.”

      Lorelei watched her father for a long moment, then left without a glance Sean’s way.

      Richard turned to him. “Come to our house for supper this evening. I’ll know what to tell you then.”

      Without waiting for a response, the man left. Sean stared at the door for a long moment, then sighed. There was nothing left for him to do but straighten the chairs and prepare himself for that evening. Waiting—his least favorite thing to do. He needed something to occupy his time. He glanced around, his gaze landing on the Bible at his desk, and suddenly the choice seemed obvious. He’d read his Bible and maybe even say a little prayer. He could only hope it would help.

      * * *

      “I know we are all anxious to address the issue foremost on all of our minds,” Richard Wilkins began, then glanced at her and Sean as if to be sure they were listening before he continued. “I won’t keep the two of you in suspense any longer.”

      Lorelei glanced at Sean to gauge his reaction. His gaze was intent on her father’s face as if it might give some hint to the outcome of her parents’ decision. Certain she wouldn’t be able to swallow another bite of her blueberry pie, Lorelei placed her plate on the small table that rested between Sean’s chair and where she sat on the settee. Her mother and father sat side by side in chairs across the room, letting Lorelei know that they were unanimous on whatever decision they had reached.

      As if reading her thoughts, Richard said, “My wife and I spent quite a bit of time in thought and prayer about this matter. We ask that you both refrain from commenting on what we say until you have heard us out completely. Is that understood?”

      “Yes, sir,” Sean agreed.

      Lorelei nodded. Settling back in the settee, she clasped her hands nervously in her lap.

      “You both have good reputations and I think you know that in a town of this size reputation is everything.” Leaning forward, he looked at them intently. “It affects everything from who speaks to you on Sunday to who will do business with you. It’s a precious commodity.”

      Her mother nodded gravely. “I know this will be difficult to hear since the two of you did nothing wrong, but I’m afraid there will be no way to avoid a scandal should any of this come to light. It’s in your best interest to try to head that off if possible.”

      Richard smiled wryly. “I’m afraid I’m not giving either of you much of a choice. I’ll not have my daughter’s name bandied about as a common trollop. We’ve already seen with Mrs. Drake that people will turn the facts into whatever sordid scenarios their imaginations lead them to believe. What’s worse is that the story would grow with each telling, and, believe me, people would tell.”

      Lorelei’s stomach clenched as her father’s gaze narrowed onto Sean. “I’m giving you six weeks.”

      “Six weeks, sir?”

      “Yes.” Richard straightened, his jaw firmed. “You have six weeks to court my daughter. At the end of those six weeks, I will expect a proposal.”

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