Because of Rebecca - By Leanne Tyler Page 0,7
Cooper replied. Her cheeks burned and he chuckled, dancing them closer to Elizabeth and Mr. Hollingsworth before smoothly changing partners.
“Oh my!” Rebecca gasped with delight, finding herself once again in Mr. Hollingsworth’s strong arms.
“Couldn’t be without your bride that long, Mitchell?” Mr. Hollingsworth asked.
“Neither would you if you were just married,” Mr. Cooper said, giving a wink.
The two men laughed, while Elizabeth glowed.
“By the way, Jared, would you mind seeing Miss Davis back into town? We’re going to be pressed for time getting away to catch our train,” Mr. Cooper asked.
“It will be my pleasure to see Miss Davis to town.”
“Excellent,” Elizabeth stated as the music died away. “Rebecca, be a dear and come upstairs with me while I change into my traveling suit?” Then she placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Darling, I promise not to be long.”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Rebecca said to the men before following her friend away from the party.
Once they were upstairs, Elizabeth closed her bedroom door and leaned against it. She placed her left hand, now graced with her wedding ring, over her chest. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven!”
Unable to keep from laughing, Rebecca fell down on the bed, lying on her back and recalled the many evenings they’d spent talking into the wee hours at Augusta. A twinge of sadness pricked at her heart and she realized she missed those carefree days very much.
“Does getting married make you feel that celestial?”
Elizabeth nodded and pushed herself away from the door. “It’s so glorious to be in love. To have someone whisper the unthinkable in your ear and promise you’ll feel splendor in his arms.”
“Elizabeth!” Rebecca exclaimed, sitting up and pushing herself off the bed before she wrinkled her dress. “Come, let me undo your gown or else your husband will come impatiently looking for you.”
“Don’t act so innocent with me, my friend. I saw how you looked at Mr. Hollingsworth while you were dancing. From where I stood it looked like he did the same thing,” she teased, stepping out of the heavy satin dress. She quickly donned the sturdy linen traveling suit with Tilda’s help, changed pearls for a locket on a chain and put on her hat. Standing back, she looked at herself in the floor-length mirror.
“Well, do I look all grown up?”
Rebecca laughed, carefully laying the wedding gown across the bed. “I wager you’ll be asking me if you look different when you return from your wedding tour in a few weeks.”
“I hope so. I’ll be a woman that has been repeatedly made love to by her husband.”
Rebecca covered her cheeks with her hands. Elizabeth’s words had unthinkable thoughts about Mr. Hollingsworth running through her head. “I shouldn’t be hearing this.”
Her friend laughed, applying a drop of fresh perfume behind her ears.
“Come, let’s go back down so you and Mr. Hollingsworth can travel behind our carriage into town,” she urged. “Tilda, please bring down Miss Davis’ bag from the guest room.”
A few minutes later, the two friends descended the staircase to find an array of guests waiting below. Mr. and Mrs. Calhoun and Elizabeth’s three sisters and brother were at the front of the crowd. Near the door waited Mr. Cooper and Mr. Hollingsworth. While the bride bid farewell to her family and friends, Rebecca joined the gentlemen before they boarded the carriages.
Mr. Hollingsworth offered her his arm and escorted her outside. His touch had the strangest effect on her. A warmth like she had never felt before flowed through her and she again wondered what it would feel like to have him kiss her or whisper his desire into her ear. Rebecca already knew it felt heavenly to be held in his arms while dancing.
The driver opened the door for them, and Mr. Hollingsworth helped her into the open carriage. Once she settled on the seat, he joined her.
“Give Lucas a big hug from me.” Elizabeth called as the bridal carriage rolled past them.
Rebecca’s smile faltered. Oh why had Elizabeth said that?
“Who’s Lucas?” Mr. Hollingsworth asked as the driver eased their carriage forward behind the newlyweds’ coach for the journey.
Rebecca hesitated only slightly before answering. “My son.”
Chapter Two
“Your son?”
“Yes.” Rebecca’s palms sweated and she hesitated a moment, not sure how he would react. “He’s six months old.”
His jaw twitched as he stared straight ahead. He remained quiet for several moments. When he did speak his words lacked emotion. “My wife died giving birth to my son.”
Again, Rebecca’s heart ached at his loss, and she regretted