Her Beguiling Bride Read online

  Alice quickly quashed a selfish idea. Guilt plagued her for even thinking it. But she could not deny that a part of her wished they’d lose Rattle and Snap so they could move to a place where no one knew them—where they could live together as man and wife.

  Was it so wrong to want what other people who loved one another had?

  Alice glanced at Belle, adoring the way the river breeze played through that one errant strand of hair that had escaped her chignon. Her cheeks had pinkened, doubtless from the moment they’d shared just before dressing for dinner. Belle blinked, and just the sight of those black velvet lashes sweeping downward and back up caused Alice’s stomach to twist into knots. She loved this woman.

  “Did you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day in Boston?” Belle asked, tilting her head back to look at the green bunting adorning a new building.

  “Yes. Usually with dances and feasts. And lots of drinking.”

  Belle’s lips blossomed into a smile that seized hold of Alice’s heart and squeezed.

  “You’re so beautiful,” she blurted.

  Belle’s cheeks flushed, and she averted her eyes.

  “It’s true,” Alice said. Her pulse began to race. “To me, you’re the most beautiful thing on this earth, and…and I love you.”

  Belle’s midnight blue gaze lifted and searched Alice’s.

  “I wish things were different,” Alice confessed. “I wish it could be like this all the time.”

  “I do too,” Belle said softly.

  Let’s not go back. Let’s stay here and live like this for the rest of our lives. But she couldn’t say it. Belle would not leave her home, her goats, Uncle Hewlett, or her friends in Jonesboro. Unlike Alice, Belle had been brought up in a family. She had not been shuffled from place to place. She’d certainly not been cast out and disowned. While it would be simple for Alice to establish roots in a new place, it would not be so easy for Belle. Rattle and Snap was the only home she’d ever known. Her parents and brother were buried there.

  Alice bit her tongue.

  “Here’s the restaurant,” Belle said gleefully.

  “So it is,” Alice said, and she escorted her companion inside.

  After their meal of crab cakes, purple hull peas, creamed corn, and turnip greens, Alice requested the check from the waiter.

  “Surely you ain’t finished. You got to have room for cobbler, sir,” he said, proudly rocking back on his heels. “Aunt Jennie makes the best cobbler in Savannah.”

  It did sound good. “Thank you,” Alice said.

  “I bet your wife can’t even make cobbler this good,” the waiter said with a wink in Belle’s direction.

  Alice’s breath froze. Her gaze collided with Belle’s. “I have to go home with her, now,” Alice joked.

  Belle laughed. “I’m sure it’s true. And I’d love a piece of Aunt Jennie’s cobbler.”

  “Cobbler all around, then,” Alice chimed in.

  The waiter rushed off to get their dessert. When Alice’s gaze found Belle’s, her stomach somersaulted. She didn’t know if this surge of love was due to the fact they could be openly together or to the idea they were in a new environment, but wild ideas began to fill Alice’s head. If she could fool this many people into believing she was a man, she could certainly use her credentials as a veteran to get the taxes on Rattle and Snap lowered, especially if the deed to the property were put in her name.

  Billings was right. It was too bad she couldn’t just marry Belle. That would solve all their issues with Rattle and Snap. Alice swallowed thickly. It would also ease her fears that Belle would tire of her and leave her for a man.

  “What?” Belle asked.

  Alice shook off the reverie. “Nothing.”

  “Oh, don’t try that on me,” Belle said, grinning. “I know when you’re up to something.”

  Alice toyed with her fork. Finally, she summoned her courage and lifted her gaze. “Why are you with me?” she asked pointedly.

  “You know.” Belle looked uncomfortably around, as if making certain no one eavesdropped.

  “I want to hear it from your lips. I want you to tell me.” Alice would not let up. Not now. She couldn’t.

  Belle gnawed her bottom lip. “Because we’re…friends. Because of everything that has happened between us.”

  “Friends.” Alice’s heart sank.

  Belle leaned forward. “More than that. You know that. Alice, this is not the time.”

  “It is the time,” Alice argued. “If we were to marry—”

  Belle’s mouth fell open. “Marry?” she whispered heatedly. “Have you gone mad? The very idea is preposterous, not to mention illegal.”

  “It doesn’t seem so preposterous to me,” Alice said, dropping her voice to a whisper as well. “In fact, I’ve fooled everyone today. Why not a priest?”

  Belle’s eyes widened dramatically. “Alice…”

  Alice leaned back and folded her arms over her chest. “Would you? If it were legal, would you marry me?”

  Belle stared.

  The waiter sidled up to the table and placed two dessert plates laden with blackberry cobbler in front of them.

  “Thank you,” Alice said curtly, never relinquishing Belle’s gaze. “Would you?”

  As soon as the waiter disappeared, Belle reached across the table, and Alice jolted when she took her hand. “I would have married you three years ago,” Belle told her.

  “Then marry me tomorrow. I’ll find a priest.”

  Shaking her head, Belle laughed. “It’s impossible. We’re both…” She mouthed the word women.

  “So?” Alice asked.

  “Let’s not discuss this here,” Belle said, taking up her spoon.

  Alice hardly tasted the cobbler as she finished her meal in silence. It would work. No one here knew she was a woman. And through a letter campaign, she could secure the rights to Rattle and Snap. The taxes would be lowered if not eradicated altogether and everything would be fine. It made perfect sense. She could save Belle’s home.

  * * * *

  Silently Belle walked arm in arm back to the hotel with Alice. Jonesboro was normally locked up tight at this time of the night, but Savannah was different. Flames glowed from behind the glass globes of the streetlights. And although the sidewalks were not as crowded as they were during the day, they still teemed with people bustling to get here and there. Belle, however, was unable to observe the very different world around her. Instead, her mind raced with Alice’s impromptu proposal. Marry her! The very idea! It was preposterous.

  And yet Mr. Billings had suggested they marry. But he hadn’t known Alice was a woman. Belle harbored no doubt Alice could fool a priest. She’d managed to live a year in the army among men without them discovering the truth. Still, that wasn’t a marriage.

  Belle shook her head as if she could dislodge the image of her standing at the altar on Alice’s arm.

  Marriage.

  What did it mean? What did it really mean?

  Belle loved Alice. At times, Belle thought she loved Alice more than she’d ever loved her husband. She certainly felt enamored of her in a different, more intense way. Alice understood her. They anticipated one another’s needs and desires without words having to be spoken between them.

  Yes, Belle thought. In a perfect world, she would legally have the right to marry the person she loved, be they male or female. Why did it matter whom a person chose to love?

  But Alice hadn’t mentioned love when she’d proposed the plan to save Rattle and Snap by marriage. Not really.

  “It’s preposterous,” Belle repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Alice stopped abruptly. “Is it?”

  Belle cleared her throat. “I mean…what if we were discovered?”

  Instantly, Alice stopped in her tracks and seized Belle by the shoulders. “You’re considering it, aren’t you? Tell me you’re considering it.”

  Suddenly, Belle couldn’t manage to breathe. Marry Alice? God in heaven, she hadn’t felt b
utterflies in her stomach like this when Dalton proposed. Heat raced up the back of her neck. Perspiration beaded and rolled down her spine. She tugged uncomfortably at the collar of her bodice. “It could never work.”

  “No one would really have to know we were married, except of course the revenue officer. I could write a letter and send along a copy of our marriage certificate to the person in charge of levying taxes on Rattle and Snap. Belle, sweetheart, we could save your home.”

  “Our home.”

  At that, Alice brushed her fingers against Belle’s cheek. Belle couldn’t resist turning her face into the soft, warm touch.

  “I love you,” Alice confessed. “I’d want this even if Rattle and Snap wasn’t hanging in the balance.”

  A rush of warmth washed over Belle. Even if the knowledge existed only between the two of them, she honestly wanted it too. And then, right there on the street, she flung her arms around Alice’s shoulders and kissed her deeply. For a moment, she believed it could be true. She believed Alice could fool them all and that their secret might never be revealed.

  Alice ended their kiss and cupped Belle’s face in her palms. “Say yes, Belle,” she said against her lover’s lips. “Marry me.”

  Belle’s chest tightened.

  Alice thumbed back a strand of Belle’s hair. “It will be real to us and before God.”

  Tears spilled involuntarily down Belle’s cheeks. In this harsh world, they’d discovered one another. They’d found love in an unlikely place and neither of them could imagine that a merciful God would ever condemn them for it. Alice had become her safe haven and nothing or no one could change that. But a part of her wanted their love to be recognized and in some way official, even if no one else was the wiser. Belle nodded. “Yes.”

  Alice’s eyes widened. “Yes?”

  “Yes.” Belle’s lips drew into a smile. “Yes, I’ll marry you. But not for Rattle and Snap. Because I love you too.”

  * * * *

  Belle turned quickly when she heard the hinges squeak on the front door of the church. Alice emerged and skipped out to the sidewalk. Butterflies flitted in Belle’s stomach. She couldn’t tell anything from the blank expression Alice wore.

  “Well?” Belle asked, wringing the ribbons of her reticule in her lace-gloved hands.

  “Father O’Neill was none too happy about being bothered after hours but says he’ll do it tonight since we managed to get the marriage bond.” Alice’s lips stretched into a nervous smile.

  Belle’s breast flooded with joy she could hardly contain. “Married. Alice. Married?”

  “Don’t waver now. It took some doing to convince him to marry us inside the church after canonical hours.” Grinning proudly, Alice put her topper back on and took Belle’s hands in hers. “I want to spend the rest of my days with you, Belle Holloway.”

  Belle blinked at the sudden surge of tears dampening her eyes.

  “I can think of no better way to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day than making you mine,” Alice continued. “I love you, and I always will.”

  At the moment, Belle couldn’t think of any words deep enough to say. Love brimmed and overflowed to the point she feared she wouldn’t be able to contain it.

  “What do you say?” Alice asked. “Will you marry me?”

  “A thousand times, yes,” Belle whispered.

  Alice offered her arm. “Then we’d best hurry while he’s still in a mood to perform the ceremony. He’s got a St. Patrick’s Day mass tomorrow at noon.”

  Belle followed Alice into the church. Dimly light and cool inside, the sanctuary bore the scars of the war. Belle recognized the oft-scrubbed dark stains on the floor that indicated the church, like every other such building, had once housed wounded and dying soldiers.

  Two ancient women dressed in robes and yawning mightily stood at the end of one of the worn wooden pews which was festooned with green wreaths and bunting. Plaster flaked from the walls and the faded painted ceiling.

  This old church had seen better days.

  But tonight was not a night to reflect on the past. Belle breathed in the musty scent of lemon-oiled wood and candles. Her gaze lifted to a statue of the Virgin. This would be the place where she and Alice would vow to cherish each other for the rest of their lives.

  Even though she’d come to terms with her unusual relationship, Belle had thought she might feel a twinge of doubt at solidifying their commitment in a church, but she did not.

  This was right. It felt right.

  She slid her hand down and laced her fingers with Alice’s. Alice squeezed her hand.

  “Father O’Neill,” she called to the robed man lighting a candle at the altar.

  He turned slowly, his tired expression betraying his impatience at being dragged out of bed. “Ah, Mr. O’Malley.” He managed a smile at Belle. “You’ll have to forgive our…state of shabbiness. We’re starting construction on a new cathedral soon, but I assure you many happy brides have stood at this very altar.”

  Alice trailed her fingers up and down Belle’s spine in a show of encouragement. The priest was none the wiser that he was about to marry two women.

  “Shall we?” Father O’Neill asked as he donned a bright green stole.

  Alice blew out a deep breath. “I can’t marry this woman fast enough.”

  Father O’Neill chuckled and took up his book. “You here,” he said, positioning Alice. “And the bride on this side.”

  Belle stepped next to Alice. Even though she wanted this more than anything, her hands trembled uncontrollably. A glance at Alice’s revealed that she was shaking too.

  “Now,” the priest said, “Sister Bertha, Sister Mary Martha, would you mind witnessing this wedding between these two lovebirds?”

  “Pardon?” one of the ladies said, brandishing a tin ear trumpet.

  “Witness a wedding!” Father O’Neill boomed. “That’s why you’re here!”

  The little old nun giggled. “I’d be honored.”

  She and the other sister took seats on the second pew.

  “Dearly beloved…” the priest began, but the words faded.

  Belle could only drink in the sight of her love. All they’d shared played through her thoughts: the first time she saw her, wounded and sitting in her bed, Alice’s arrest, subsequent escape, and the struggle against the bushwhackers that had nearly resulted in both their deaths. Most of all, Belle recalled how perfect it felt to lie in Alice’s arms, to give and receive pleasure. Love.

  “Do you, Al O’Malley, take this woman to be your wife?”

  Alice smiled at Belle. “I do.”

  “And do you…your name, dear?”

  “Belle. Belle Holloway.”

  Father O’Neill repeated the vow, including Belle’s name.

  “I do,” she whispered, struggling to talk against the tightening in her throat.

  “Then by the power vested in me by the State of Georgia, I pronounce you man and wife.” The priest leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered, “You may now kiss your bride.”

  Alice’s eyes searched Belle’s before Alice cupped her cheek and closed the distance between them to press a tender kiss against her lips. “I love you, Belle O’Malley.”

  Chapter Four

  The doorman opened the entrance to the hotel and nodded curtly as Alice and Belle strode inside. Alice doffed her hat and skipped up the stairs as Belle glided, one hand on the silky smooth banister.

  Alice unlocked the door and went inside only to pace, twisting her topper in her hands.

  Belle’s heart pounded as she quietly closed the door behind them and leaned against it. For a moment, Alice searched her eyes before hastily unfastening the buttons of Belle’s bodice. “God in heaven. You’re my wife. I want you naked. I want to feel my skin against yours.”

  Belle helped, and together they made short work of the row of tiny buttons. She shrugged out of the bodice and then turned so Alice could loosen her stays. Belle untied the tapes at the top of her skirt and petticoat
s and let them billow to the floor. When Alice had sufficiently untied the laces of Belle’s corset, she shimmied out of it and then drew her chemise off over her head. Cool air chilled her breasts and shoulders. She turned as she untied the tapes holding up her pantalets.

  Alice’s gaze heated as Belle pushed them down and stepped free of the pile of clothes. “You’re so beautiful,” Alice murmured. “I want to touch you so badly. But damn, I want to do this right. Get on the bed.”

  Belle climbed onto the bed and reclined on the pillows as Alice methodically removed her frock coat, vest, shirt, and the cloth binding she’d used to conceal her small breasts. Her trousers and drawers came off along with her socks and shoes.

  Sinewy muscle combined with feminine softness to create artistic angles which formed an incongruous beauty no other woman Belle knew possessed. Small, tight breasts with peach-colored nipples looked ripe to be sucked and touched. Alice’s lean torso did not taper much at the waist or hips. A scar marred her thigh where she’d been wounded, but Belle loved every wonderful inch of Alice’s body.

  Both naked, they were once again two women who needed no words to communicate. Alice joined Belle on the bed and moved over her. Nipples brushed nipples. Hips ground against hips. Their lips met and locked. Passion bloomed between Belle’s legs, and she rocked upward to roll her pubic mound against her lover’s. She could never quite get enough of Alice’s expert fingers or her wicked tongue. Belle’s tongue watered to taste the sweetness between her lover’s legs for a second time today, but all rational thought fled when Alice’s lips found and nibbled Belle’s earlobe.

  Belle mewled helplessly as fingers found and plucked one of her nipples. The combination of ear nuzzling and the torturous tension on her teat sent hot desire winding straight to her clitoris.

  “Spread your legs.” Alice’s voice was hot against Belle’s ear.

  Belle complied, opening her thighs as her lover’s hand dipped between them and began to stroke. The insistent touch inflamed Belle’s desire and left her writhing and wanting more. Fingertips brushed over her clitoris and teasingly traced each fold, but when Belle lifted her hips to invite the finger inside, she was denied. Wetness gathered in her channel and spilled down the cleft of her ass. She burrowed her fingers into Alice’s short auburn hair, holding her head captive as her mouth latched on to Belle’s nipple. “Don’t tease me.” Belle wriggled, desperately needing—wanting—the finger to delve inside her passage.