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  “Oh?” Regan asked with interest, extending her arm to Bess to help her stand. “Then Leah did throw herself at Wesley.”

  “Oh yes. Stupid girl.” She glanced fondly at the sleeping Leah. “She’d have done anything for Mr. Stanford.”

  Together Nicole and Regan ushered Bess to a chair. “Tell us,” they chorused.

  Within a few minutes Bess had told the whole story.

  “It was through Leah that Clay found me on that island,” Nicole said thoughtfully.

  “And she’s loved Wesley all these years?” Regan said.

  “It ain’t been real love,” Bess said, “since she ain’t seen him in all these years, but Leah’s always had the notion that she was in love with him.”

  “Better than Kimberly,” Regan said under her breath.

  “Regan…” Nicole warned. “I don’t think I like your thoughts.”

  “Bess,” Regan said brightly, taking Bess’s arm, “it was so good of you to come by and I swear to you that Leah will be well taken care of.” Expertly, Regan escorted the woman out the door.

  Leaning on the closed door, Regan’s eyes were bright. “The girl saved your life and she’s been in love with Wesley for years.”

  “Regan, are you going to interfere in this? This is between Wesley and Kimberly. We should take the girl home, nurse her back to health, deliver the child, and perhaps find them a place of employment.”

  “And what about Wesley’s child?” Regan said righteously. “Are we going to let it be raised by strangers?”

  “Perhaps Wes and Kim could adopt—?” Nicole began but stopped. “Perhaps that is a bit farfetched.”

  “With dear, sweet Kimberly it is. I doubt if she’ll be able to put up with the nuisance of her own children much less someone else’s.” Regan sat down. “Look at her, Nicole, and tell me how you think she’ll look when she’s healed and clean.”

  Nicole hesitated, but she did as Regan bid. Nicole had an idea what Regan was hinting at and she was sure she should stop her, but at the same time she agreed with Regan. For months now she’d been hoping something would happen to prevent Wesley from marrying Kim.

  As dispassionately as she could, Nicole studied Leah’s battered face. “She has good features, good bones. I can’t tell about the eyes in this condition. She may never be pretty, exactly, but neither do I think she’ll be ugly.”

  “Oh well, we couldn’t hope to beat Kimberly’s loveliness. Nicole!” she said, rising. “I think we should insist that Wes marry the mother of his child, that he do the honorable thing by her.”

  “Regan…” Nicole gave a sigh of exasperation. “It just won’t work. You know Travis could fix it so the girl would never want for anything and Wes does not have to marry her.”

  “He’d more likely be happy with this stranger than he would with Kimberly. This girl loves Wes and I know Kim cannot love anyone except herself.”

  “But Wesley loves Kim,” Nicole said stubbornly, trying to reason with her friend. “He does not love this girl. And besides, what do we know of her? Maybe she’s worse than Kim ever thought of being.”

  Regan gave a snort of disbelief. “You heard the sister. This girl could have had an easy life in the tavern but instead, she chose to stay and support her brothers and sisters even though she had to bear beatings from that crazy old father. How many people do you know who would do that? Miss Shaw?”

  “Maybe not Kimberly but—.”

  “We have a choice between Kimberly or this battered, unloved, unappreciated girl.”

  That made Nicole laugh. “Oh Regan, really, you do exaggerate so. None of what you’re saying means anything. Wesley will make up his own mind.”

  Regan looked thoughtful for a moment. “If you and Clay agreed with me and we got Travis on Kim’s side—Wesley always does the opposite of what Travis wants—we might be able to get what we want.”

  “Clay can’t stand Kimberly,” Nicole said, half under her breath.

  “And what about you, Nicole, what do you think of Kimberly?”

  Nicole looked down at Leah for a long moment. “I hate to see anyone I love unhappy. Wesley has borne Travis’s criticism for so long.”

  “And wouldn’t it be nice for him to have a chance with a new wife in a new land—a real chance for happiness, not one doomed to failure?” Regan whispered.

  “Clay thought he wanted to marry Bianca but fate stepped in and we were married instead,” Nicole said under her breath.

  “We’re going to help fate a little, aren’t we, Nicole?” Regan urged.

  Nicole looked up, eyes laughing. “I’m afraid so—and afraid is exactly the right word.”

  In spite of Nicole’s original reticence, she was the one most enthusiastic in bringing about Wesley and Leah’s marriage. Clay looked into his wife’s eyes and remembered too well how he’d wanted to marry one woman and had ended with another. Besides, he’d had too many run-ins with Kimberly to ever take her side.

  Rubbing his jaw in some private memory, Clay said, “I owe Wes one. He helped me get away from Bianca. I just hope this Leah proves to be a better woman.”

  “That’s my worry too,” Nicole answered.

  But when Clay, Regan, and Nicole reached the strangely quiet Wesley and Travis, there was no need to persuade anyone.

  “You talk to him!” Travis seethed at Regan. “He thinks he has to marry the little two-bit whore. He’s willing to give up his whole future because the cunning slut arranged it so he was her first customer. If he’d had any sense and waited a few minutes in the church, probably twenty men would have admitted to tumbling her. I wonder if she faked virgin’s blood on their cloaks?”

  Regan, her hand on her husband’s arm, seemed reluctant to speak.

  Nicole went to stand near Wesley, to look up into his bleak eyes. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

  Wes shook his head. “I don’t want to marry her but it’s my duty. She carries my child.”

  “And what about Kimberly?” Nicole asked softly.

  “She—,” Wes turned away for a moment. “That was killed when I stepped forward in the church.”

  “Wesley,” Nicole said, her hand on his arm, “I don’t know the girl, but I think she has qualities that could make her a good wife.”

  Wesley snorted. “She’s fertile. Now, shall we get this over?”

  “For God’s sake, think about it for a few days at least,” Travis exploded. “Maybe you’ll come to your senses. We can find the girl a husband. The cobbler’s boy is looking for a wife. He could—.”

  “Travis, you can take your cobbler and—.”

  “Wesley!” Regan interrupted. “Are you going to hate Leah when she’s your wife?”

  “I shall give her and the child the best of everything. Now, shall we go inside to my—,” he smiled in an ugly way—“bride?”

  Leah became Mrs. Wesley Stanford before the sun went down on that fateful Sunday. Through some inner strength, she held herself upright and answered the nervous preacher’s questions firmly. She didn’t quite understand how it had all come about, but it was so much like one of her dreams, standing in a marriage ceremony with the man she’d always loved, that the pain in her body seemed to slip away.

  The solemn group didn’t say a word when the service was complete. Leah was helped to make her mark beside Wesley’s signature in the church registry, then Clay’s strong arms carried her to a waiting wagon. She was too ill to notice where she was or that her new husband and his brother refused to look at her.

  She was placed in a boat, rowed upstream, and put into another wagon. At long last she was gently laid on a soft, clean bed.

  “My room,” Wesley snorted at Regan as Clay put the girl on the bed. “It’s fitting then that I should leave.”

  “Leave!” Regan gasped. “With a new wife and—.”

  Wesley’s look stopped her. “If you think I can look at that every day and stay sane you don’t know me very well. I have to go away for awhile and get used to the id