Be My Wife, The Bell's Bargain

pte

nected on th

," Jak

to the room. The glass of water sat for

ected

agreed to come." Donald kept his voice low and even. "He is fri

Br

s." Donald paused. "He said he

the line was he

I told him not to harm

at did

two fingers. "Better he burns that anger out pacing his own

close to a laugh. "You

my br

only have my name. Yet you are the

orway with a borrowed coat, and an old man's hand resting heavy on his shoulder. *This one stays,* Jake had said to a r

a degree, then hardened again. "Paul wan

N

you. Be at my table a

Bry

is my g

, but good." Donald hesitated. "

not pushed d

en brea

pause. Then the

tugged at his lips when Paul left was gone. It had been relie

"You fool," he said softly, though he was

...

the red dress

b. Her hands were still damp from the shower, and they would not stop shaking. She breathed out, h

nt of the mirror

ve, and it fit as if it had been waiting for tonight. Her mother's voice came back to her, wa

She pressed her lips togeth

aring, so she left her neck bare. She dabbed on the only lipstick she owned, a shade too pale

zed on the be

ts

message said. No

r waited at the end of the narrow street, its polished body gleaming under the one working

the back door for

. He did not look up. The door closed with a heavy,

creen on his face. Celine folded her hands in her lap and counted the

the laptop. "We will

no

l be there too." His voice was flat, like a man reading a report. "Paul will test

Don

the window. "Donald i

at do I say if they a

. His eyes were dark and steady. "As far as they know, we are together

eated. The lie sat st

ask where, l

than a day expected her to lie so smoothly at a stranger's table. Instead she looked down

hey bel

used. "That is not the sam

this was from her house with its peeling paint. She thought of her mother lying still on the white sheets, of the clerk's pen and the crooked s

p, Bryan's eyes w

d, as if he had decided against sayin

quite an insult. Celine did not know w

ar sl

ir tops. A long driveway curved through a garden so neatly trimmed that it looked painte

orgot to

lin

st time he had

hand resting on his knee, the other curled into a

ot," s

st a smile, though nothing in it was warm. "Bu

d. The driver

stone steps, hands folded, back perfectly straight. It was Palmer, though she did not kno

eyes passed over her once

is jacket, and after a visibl

ad to follow. She slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. Through h

e thought, and the t

glittered overhead, and the marble floor reflected it so clearly that she was afraid to step on it. Portraits of

nked against porcelain. Her shoes, the only decent pair she owned, cl

of tall double doors and push

nen and crystal. At the far end, in a high-backed chair, sat an old man with a cane propped against

stand. He d

elt that gaze travel from her face to her dress and back again, slowly, as if he w

y with command. "This is the wom

mouth w

nued, leaning forward a little,

over hers on his arm