Unveiled. Part 8

What was wrong with these people? Grace Pemberton, for all her elegant airs, appalled her the most. There was a coldness about her, a ruthlessness, that made Katie shudder. Was Fan like her? Or was she like Ella, a sweet human being who just couldn't stand it another minute?

Katie couldn't tell. In any case, she was staying. After meeting the Pembertons, Katie was certain of one thing.

Ella needed a friend. Her.

"I've been to see the Scotts," George announced. The other Pembertons stared at him expectantly. Ella had gone to bed, and the family was holding a secret meeting to determine their next course of action. "The news is not good."

"How could it be any worse?" Stephen Pemberton, Grace's son, asked coldly. "We have a perfect stranger in our midst, masquerading as Fan. Ella is convinced she's back and, if angered, will doubtless write us all out of the will. How, may I repeat, could it be worse?"

"The Scotts adore her," George said bluntly. "Eunice thinks Fan is charming and the perfect mate for her nephew. And as for Christopher, the man is obviously infatuated. When I merely hinted that the family might not be supportive of this wedding, on the grounds of Fan's name and reputation, both of them nearly attacked me. I think we stand to make powerful enemies if this match does not proceed."

Gloom settled over the room. Each Pemberton looked to the one beside him, but no one had any answers. Finally it was Grace who spoke up, but even she was less certain than normal.

"Perhaps we should risk their anger," she said slowly. "After all, there are only Eunice and Christopher. Even if they are offended, they don't represent all of society. Then we could go on as before."

Eileen clattered the tea tray. George looked at her searchingly, then spoke.

"That is true, but there are other considerations. Ella's frame of mind, for one. She is set on this wedding, and to thwart her may cause more damage than we can deal with. I don't think any of us is prepared to move in with her and care for her, are we?"

This time the Pembertons looked to the floor. Used to a life of luxury and money, they did not relish the thought of providing help to a senile old lady.

"Then there is another problem. Ella has had Fan reintroduced to society. Everyone here believes she is Frances. Some of the women have even helped in this effort. I don't think they'd take it too kindly to find out they'd been tricked by the old woman."

"But we don't even know her!" Ida Pemberton protested, holding her squalling newborn. "We don't know if she's a common thief, or worse. My G.o.d, this woman could be any tramp off the streets! Do you actually expect us to take her into our midst as if she were family?"

This time Eileen placed the dishes down with a clunk. She turned to the Pembertons like a ma.s.sive boat pulling into harbor. "Begging your pardon, miss, but I couldn't help overhearing. It is none of my concern, but it might interest you to know that Miss O'Connor's references are impeccable. She worked for several families as a maid, and all of them have nothing but good things to say about her."

"That's a relief," Grace said, though she gave Eileen a sharp look. "Such recommendations do not come easily. At least she is trustworthy."

"I think, after giving the matter thorough thought, that we should let the wedding proceed," George said firmly, ignoring the gasps around him. "And all of the reasons are obvious. We all stand to lose too much by making a fuss over this. And in reality, by marrying her off to the Scotts, we rid ourselves of the problem. Miss O'Connor will then become their concern, not ours."

The protests died and the Pembertons began to smile. Even Stephen, who up until this point was the most vocal, grinned and patted his uncle on the back.

"You sly old fox! I see what you're getting at. This way Fan won't be our responsibility. We won't have to worry about her cutting in on our money. And she really can't damage Fan's name any more than Fan herself has already done. Now the old lady is happy, and the girl certainly won't tell. G.o.d, she stands to gain everything. Well done, man. You've come up with the answer."

Even Grace nodded as the realization came to her. As Frances Scott, Kate O'Connor posed much less of a threat. It was a solution that satisfied everyone.

TEN.

"What's the matter, Chris? Wedding nerves?" Charles Pepper grinned at his friend while Christopher struggled to tie his cravat. Giving up after the fifth attempt, he sighed in resignation and let Charles do the honors.

"No, I just don't understand why we need such a fuss. Why can't two people quietly marry? My aunt has notified every newspaper in the country. The house is full of relatives, ones we haven't seen in years. The cook is in a frenzy, trying to keep them all fed, and I have to wear this ridiculous outfit, just to say *I do.'" He gestured impatiently at the black coat and ascot he wore.

Charles laughed. "I have to admit that I didn't think you'd be the one marrying so soon. And you knew Eunice would never let you off without a big wedding. She's waited years for this." Charles handed him his coat. "You're a lucky man. Fan is something else."

"Yes, she is, isn't she?" The exasperated look left Christopher's face and he smiled warmly. "You know, Charles, she's so different, so vital and alive. She enjoys every minute as if she can't believe it all won't disappear. I've never met anyone like her."

"She's a h.e.l.l of a girl," Charles agreed. "Then what's the problem? You aren't having second thoughts?"

"I wouldn't say that." His black hair falling into a charming curl across his forehead, Christopher glanced into the mirror and brushed the errant lock into place. What he saw in the mirror only made him frown. He was handsome, startlingly so. He'd been told that since he was a child, and his looks, combined with an easygoing charm, had made him popular and somewhat casual in his morals. So he wasn't acquainted with the feeling that he had today, that what he was doing wasn't quite right. He frowned at his reflection, then turned to Charles.

"Did you ever wonder why we only court the Main Line girls? I mean, women with money?"

Charles shrugged. "Who else would we court? We go to school with them, live with them, see them at the same parties and receptions. It seems only natural that we'd choose one for a wife. Why?" He stared at his urbane friend, obviously perplexed.

"I was just thinking about it, that's all. You know we really limit ourselves and our choices by doing that. And you have to wonder how many matches are made by convenience, family ties or money rather than love."

"Are you saying that you don't...love Fan?" Charles questioned cautiously. "You know, Chris, you don't need to rush into anything if you're not sure. Marriage is a lifetime commitment. After today, you and Fan will be husband and wife. You'll live together, have children, grow old...if you have doubts, by G.o.d, you'd better express them now."

Christopher grinned. "Relax. I don't have any doubts where Fan is concerned. I knew from the moment I saw her that I would wed her. There was never even the slightest hesitation." His eyes grew darker and he pulled on his jacket. "I was just thinking of the process. You know, the criteria we use to decide on a wife. Whether we admit it or not, money plays a big part in it. For instance, could you imagine the reaction if you picked a...maid, or a scullery girl as a bride?"

"G.o.d, don't even think about it." Charles laughed. "My mother would have the vapors and take to her bed for days. I don't understand what you're getting at with all this, though. If you're happy with your choice, and she has all the qualities your family would want, then I'd call that a perfect situation."

Christopher grinned, losing his serious demeanor. "You know, you're right, Charles. And those are odds that any gambler could live with. Let's go, my friend. I believe it's time."

Charles nodded, then followed Christopher down the stairs. It was nice to know that even the sophisticated, self-confident Christopher Scott harbored doubts on his wedding day. It made him seem far more human and more sensitive than Charles would have given him credit for.

I miss you, Mommy. Grandpa says you will be home at Christmas. That's too long. I have new pants to show you. Aunt Moira said she'll get me real suspenders. She's helping me write this. And a tie. I'm going to wear them to church on Sunday. Billy O'Leary has a new tie, but no pants.

Grandpa says to tell you we're fine. I'm doing what you said and saying my prayers. I'm going to school, but I hate it. The sisters are mean. They won't let me clap erasers because I hit Jimmy Reilly on the head.

Can you come home soon? I'll comb my hair for you and brush my teeth like you asked.

Love, Sean P.S. Katie-everything's fine, don't worry. Sean just misses you. We're thankful for the extra money you've been sending. I'm glad the new job is good. Moira.

Tears sprang up into Katie's eyes and she shoved the letter into her pocket as Eileen entered the room. Wiping at her face, she turned quickly away so the maid wouldn't see her crying.

"My, you look grand." Eileen beamed, turning up the gaslight and surveying Katie. "You are the prettiest bride I think I've ever seen."

"Do you really think so?" Katie glanced down at the dress, smoothing the creamy satin. Tiny seed pearls and iridescent beads were scattered all over the gown in floral outlines, complementing the lace overlay and the sheer sleeves that reached down to her fingertips. "This dress is beautiful. It belonged to Ella, you know. She never wore it."

"I know." Eileen sighed, tucking a pleat of the gown and arranging the material more carefully. "She should have had a wee one of her own. As it is, she thinks of you that way."

Katie took a deep breath and turned, facing Eileen directly. "I know you haven't been sure about all this," she said slowly. "But I want you to know that I'm thinking of Ella, too."

"I know that," Eileen answered. "And I've come to the conclusion that you are far better for Mrs. Pemberton than all the Pembertons put together. d.a.m.ned fools! They're down there now, eating everything in sight. I don't know which one of them's worse, from Grace, Fan's mother, the old witch, to Stephen. He's an excellent argument for why alligators eat their young."

Katie chuckled, glad for the relief from the tightness in her throat. "You always make me laugh, Eileen."

"Well, it's the truth," the woman said firmly, planting her hands on her hips. Her eyes met Katie's. "Just don't lose sight of who and what you really are. You may need to fall back on it one day."

"I know." Katie nodded, smoothing her dress. When she glanced back up, her face showed her concern. "Eileen, do you think...I mean, does G.o.d understand all this?"

Eileen hesitated. To the Irish, G.o.d was as close as the nearest leaf, so it wasn't an odd question. And Katie, posing as Fan, was definitely practicing a deception. Taking a deep breath, Eileen nodded. "I think so. After all, you aren't hurting anyone. Mr. Scott is delighted that you will be wed, and so is his family. Mrs. Pemberton is very happy. The only ones unhappy about it are the Pembertons. I don't think the Lord would object to that situation at all."

Katie lightly touched the letter inside her dress. G.o.d might be able to understand, but would Sean? How could she explain to her son that she was going to be wed, masquerading as another woman? And that she was doing it as much for him as for anyone else?

She missed him terribly. Katie pictured her son's sandy-blond hair, his irrepressible smile, his freckled nose. There was so much about him that she relived, from the noise he made playing his tin horn to the way he would curl up beside her and sleep with all the trust of a tiny kitten. Would he ever understand that she had to do this, that it was her only hope of ever giving him the life she'd dreamed of?

It was a question without an answer. But every time she thought of him, wretched with poverty, she knew what she had to do.

May G.o.d forgive her.

"Are you ready, la.s.s?" Eileen leaned forward and adjusted her veil as Katie nodded.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Eileen smiled. "I have a good feeling about this day. I woke with an ache in my leg, and that always portends well. I think everything is going to work out fine."

Katie only wished she could be as sure.

The church was more of a hall than anything else, but it was decorated with summer flowers and the suns.h.i.+ne poured through the windows, making it beautiful. Katie smiled, glad that her wedding was not taking place in one of the grand yet intimidating churches in Philadelphia.

Her wedding. The thought made her cold for a moment. She was never to have one. She remembered the remarks she'd had to endure when Sean was born, that she was sullied and could never be a bride. Even her parish priest, Father O'Leary, had told her she could never wear a white dress or be married in a church. She had sinned in the eyes of G.o.d and had to pay for that sin.

Rebellion rose up in her. It was so unfair! Why was it only women were penalized like this for a mistake? Only women were scorned for having lived, loved...

But somehow she'd escaped even that. A sniffle choked her and she wiped it back, wis.h.i.+ng that her father could somehow see her. He'd be so proud of her, his Katie O'Connor, wed in a real church, even if it was not a Catholic church. She could just see his expression, bursting with pride and happiness. By pretending to be Fan, she'd won something very important-freedom from her own past. It was worth more than the money, the gown...than anything.

The music started and she heard Eileen's faint whisper. "Now, la.s.s. Do us all proud."

George At.w.a.ter adjusted her veil, then leaned closer and offered her his arm. "Ready?"

Katie nodded. Placing her hand through his arm, she started down the aisle, aware of the eyes on her. In truth, she wasn't aware of how beautiful she really looked. Her black hair, s.h.i.+ning in the sunlight like polished ebony, looked wonderful behind a veil that concealed her beauty like a misty cloud. The crowd gasped as she started down the walk, but Katie wasn't aware of them or of the man beside her. All she could see was Christopher, standing in the front of the church, waiting.

For her.

He was so handsome. Katie smiled softly, aware even from a distance that he smiled back. She thought of the first time she'd ever seen him, and the peculiar sensation that had rushed through her, as if she'd known him. It was odd at the time, but it seemed doubly so now. It was as if some part of her recognized him as a future mate and had responded with a primitive instinct.

Katie shuddered with antic.i.p.ation. She would be married within a few moments, would be Mrs. Christopher Scott and all that it entailed. A shred of doubt pa.s.sed through her, then she glanced in his direction and all doubts evaporated. He looked so happy, and so appreciative, as if lucky to be waiting there for her.

It was heady. Quelling the excitement that grew inside of her, she walked toward him as if drawn to his side. The minister waited until she had reached the altar, then George At.w.a.ter stepped back, allowing Christopher to take her arm.

"Brothers and sisters, we are gathered here today to witness the holy union of matrimony. If there is anyone who has reason why the ceremony should not proceed, let him speak now or forever hold his peace."

A slight murmur went through the crowd. Katie tensed, feeling the emotion behind her. Christopher patted her hand rea.s.suringly. When no one spoke, the priest continued.

"Do you, Frances Pemberton, take this man as your lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold...from this day forward?"

Katie nodded. "I do."

"And do you, Christopher Scott, take this woman as your lawful wedded wife...?"

Christopher hesitated, then when Katie glanced at him, he grinned. "I do."

"I now p.r.o.nounce you man and wife." The minister leaned closer, his smile beaming. "You are a beautiful couple. You may now kiss the bride, son."

Christopher hesitated, then turned toward Katie. He lifted the veil, then his lips brushed hers warmly, softly, enticingly. Katie was reminded of that kiss on the porch, when he'd taken her out of herself and made her feel things she never thought possible. It was unbelievably warm and sweet, and she no longer cared that the church was filled with people who weren't entirely approving. Her eyes lifted and met his, and they were filled with the same emotion.

Joy.

The minister coughed, breaking the spell, then gave them a fond look as Christopher took her hand and started down the aisle. Katie felt as if she were in a dream. Even the Pembertons looked happy, as if they couldn't help but smile at the handsome couple as they pa.s.sed by. And Ella, with her flower-trimmed bonnet and her soft pink dress, looked ecstatic, the suns.h.i.+ne illuminating a face that was so filled with pleasure that it seemed to glow on its own.

And Katie couldn't have been happier. Maybe G.o.d was finally showing her that it was all right, that she was forgiven for Sean and John Sweeney and all of the lies and deceptions. When she stepped outside and the air was filled with late-summer suns.h.i.+ne and the scent of the sea, she was almost positive. The whole world seemed to rejoice, and she just couldn't harbor any more doubts under the circ.u.mstances. For some reason fate had brought her to this time and place, and she was meant to follow its course.

Katie giggled as rose petals floated to the ground around her, tossed by some of the guests. Eunice smiled with tears in her eyes, Ella beamed, and Bertrice grinned broadly. They winked at each other, as if each had taken a part in all this and was personally responsible.

"Are you happy, Mrs. Scott?" Christopher leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear.

Katie s.h.i.+vered. "We really are married, aren't we?" She stared up at him, trying the name. "Mrs. Scott. Of the Philadelphia Scotts."

"Almost as impressive as Frances Pemberton." Christopher laughed. "Yes, we're really married. And it's too late to change your mind."

"That's the last thing I'd want to do," Katie said easily, but when their eyes met, she realized she'd meant it. Christopher was kind, gentlemanly, witty, and fun, but best of all, he made her laugh. She still had a hard time believing that of his own free will he had wanted her. True, he thought she was a Pemberton, but all that aside, he'd chosen her as his wife from all the Philadelphia debutantes.

And now they were married. She had to look away when she thought of their wedding night. Somehow she knew it would be good, special and unique. His kiss promised that. But she had been with another man and borne his child. She wondered quickly if that would make a difference. He'd never asked much about that, even knowing that Fan had run away with someone, yet she knew he must have thought about it.

I'll just have to face that when it comes, Katie decided, determined not to let her insecurities ruin the day.

Katie could smell the delicious scent of cooking food before they entered the house. Sniffing appreciatively, she gasped at the sight of the table laden with roast chicken, beef, fresh fish, innumerable cakes, vegetables, and cheese. There was late-summer fruit, wine, pitchers of punch, and trays of cookies. Eileen, red-faced from the effort, directed the maids with all the efficiency of a drill sergeant.

Katie couldn't resist giving her a hug. "Eileen, it looks beautiful. Thank you."

The maid blushed with pleasure. "It ain't nothing," she said, though Katie could tell she was pleased. She then glanced sternly at Christopher and raised her ladle. "You've got yourself a good girl there, sir, if you don't mind my saying."

Christopher smiled. "I am of the same feeling," he said truthfully. "Thank you for everything, Eileen."

"Humph." The maid rolled her eyes, then, as if embarra.s.sed by her emotions, turned to a serving girl. "You don't put the fishes next to the dessert tray! I don't know where they learn their trade." She scuttled away, replacing the dishes, leaving Katie and Christopher to melt into laughter.

The house slowly filled with guests from the church. The Pembertons mingled with the Scotts, and as the evening progressed and the wine was poured, they got more and more amiable. Musicians softly played from the corner of the huge dining room as the guests devoured the food and sent congratulations to Christopher and Katie. As they visited each family member, one at a time, Katie held her breath, waiting for a sharp remark or a cutting look, but it never came. For some reason the Pembertons had resigned themselves to this wedding and were apparently determined that it proceed without incident.

Christopher never left her side. As Katie accepted the gifts and warm wishes from the guests, he helped her with the presents, brought her a plate of food, insisted that she eat, and saw that her winegla.s.s was refilled (within reason). When she turned to laugh with him at the sight of a little boy sneaking a cake, or Ella Pemberton's glistening eyes, his expression made her breathless. His hand rested casually on her shoulder in a gesture that was almost possessive, and his fingers lightly touched a lock of her hair, playing with the silky texture with a reverence that made her stomach do strange things.

The attention was intoxicating, more so than the wine she drank. Katie felt his breath as he lightly kissed her neck and she glanced up, suppressing a s.h.i.+ver as his eyes promised her so much more. When she could look away, she saw Margaret watching her with an open vindictiveness while Bertrice beamed at her, obviously happy for her friend. Margaret turned away quickly, hiding her disappointment, and for once Katie almost felt sorry for her. No matter what happened, Margaret would never be happy unless she let go of her hatred and jealousy, and Katie could only feel pity for anyone who didn't feel what she felt today.

"Are you having a good time?" Christopher asked.

Katie pressed his hand and returned his smile. "Wonderful," she answered truthfully. She couldn't remember ever having a day that was so perfect.

"Will you dance, then?" His voice was a seductive whisper that made her blush.