“You go on. I’m not hungry.” He stood in the hallway, fingers hooked in his pockets again.
And she didn’t believe him for one second.
“Nonsense. You haven’t eaten all day. What kind of wife would I be if I let you starve?”
He seemed to wince at her words, but Deirdre wasn’t giving in. He needed to eat, no matter how he felt about her or their marriage.
“I won’t eat unless you do.” She stood up straight and narrowed her eyes at him even as her stomach growled again.
His green eyes held hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw amusement. Finally, he nodded.
Deirdre smiled when she turned around. If he was going to be stubborn with her, she’d be stubborn right back.
They were the last ones in the dining room, but Miss Darby didn’t need to worry about them lingering. They were both so hungry that they’d eaten every bit of food in a few minutes. Miss Darby smiled as she brought them each a slice of peach pie.
“These peaches came clear from Georgia,” she said proudly.
“It smells heavenly,” Deirdre said. And it tasted just as good as she imagined it would.
Miss Darby bustled back out from the kitchen. “I’ll take these plates. You lovebirds ought to get on to your room.” She gave them a grin, and Deirdre almost wished she hadn’t eaten the pie with the way her stomach twisted at Miss Darby’s words.
She’d been so worried about meeting Jeremiah at the depot this morning, and then about the odd way he’d been avoiding her all day that she hadn’t lent a thought to tonight.
Deirdre glanced up at Jeremiah as they stood. His gaze was fixed pointedly down at the table. She forced herself to swallow and waited for him to lead the way out of the dining room. He stopped near the front door in the entryway. She paused, unsure what he was doing until he put his hand on the doorknob.
“I should—” he started, just as she blurted out, “Where are you going?”
An awkward silence fell between them, and Deirdre wanted to shove it away with everything she had.
“I thought I’d check on Fred at the livery. Make sure everything is going well.” Jeremiah shifted from one foot to the other.
“It’s dark outside,” Deirdre said, as if that should somehow keep him here. She shook her head. “No, what I mean to say is . . .” She lowered her voice. “It’s your wedding night, and if you go walking about town, then people will think, well . . .”That you don’t want to be here. She couldn’t finish the sentence. It hurt too much to say out loud.
He swallowed visibly as he glanced at the door. Then he gave her a short nod. “You’re right.” And without another word, he made his way down the hall that led to the rear of the boardinghouse.
Deirdre hurried along behind him. Her heart pounded, though she didn’t know why. He wouldn’t even take her hand on the street. Nothing that she ever thought might happen on a wedding night was going to happen, whether she wanted it to or not.
Inside the room, Jeremiah lit a lamp and then stood as straight as one of the boards that held up the livery. He nodded at the bed. “You may turn in if you wish. I’d like to stay up and read a while.”
Deirdre tried not to think of all the times before when he’d shared books and serial stories from the newspaper with her, sometimes asking her to read them aloud as he worked. He acted now as if she had no interest in such things, or, even worse, that he no longer wished to share them with her.
“All right,” she said haltingly.
The small room had a simple dressing screen tucked in the corner, and Deirdre slipped behind it to change into her nightgown. Although she was fully covered when she emerged from behind the screen, she felt utterly exposed. Her gaze went immediately to Jeremiah.
But she needn’t have worried about seeing his reaction, because he wasn’t looking at her at all. His eyes were determinedly fixed on the newspaper in his lap. Deirdre thought she could have danced a jig in her pretty pink nightgown, and he never would have noticed.
She hung her work dress in the wardrobe and slipped beneath the covers. “Good night,” she said.
“Good night.” His words were clipped, and he still didn’t let his gaze stray from the paper.
Deirdre turned over and faced the wall with the window. Hurt squeezed her chest, and it wasn’t long before hot tears stung her eyes. They dripped silently into the pillowcase.
She’d wished for so long to marry Jeremiah. But she had no idea it would be likethis.
