Free Marry a Stranger by Susan Barrie

also added a faint touch of pink to her cheeks.
    Dr. Guelder looked at her critically when they first met, and then he said something which dampened her enthusiasm a little: “I said you would look well at a dinner table!” he observed, and suddenly the thought of their marriage on the morrow, and the reasons for it, overwhelmed her like a flood. She stammered a little: “It’s a new dress—I—hoped you would like it ... ”
    “Like it? It’s terrific!” he exclaimed, smiling at her. “And what is even more important, you look terrific inside it!”
    “Do I?” She tried to smile and look gay and carefree. “I’m afraid I’ve been rather extravagant and spent rather a lot of money buying new clothes.”
    “Well, why shouldn’t you?” he asked. “After all, you only get married once in your lifetime—at least, usually ... ” He broke off and bit his lip. He turned away rather abruptly. “Come along, let’s go,” he said.
    But when they reached the restaurant, where he was obviously well known, his urbanity and usual quiet good humor had returned to him. He was looking, she thought, particularly attractive, with his white shirt-front, and the dark contrast of his dinner jacket against his lean, bronzed cheek. A crimson silk handkerchief escaped from the end of his sleeve and drew her attention to his well-formed, beautifully-cared-for hands—the hands of a first-class doctor.
    “What are you going to eat tonight?” he asked, scanning the menu. “I suggest that we have a bottle of champagne—we really should, you know, on the eve of taking one another for better or worse.” He looked at her gravely, those Irish-grey eyes of his making her heart turn over. “ For your sake I hope it will not be for worse.”
    Stacey was smitten dumb. She thought he must hear the wild hammering of her pulses, and thought, if only theirs was to be a completely normal marriage, how wildly, deliriously happy she would be tonight, and whatever the future might hold—even if disaster was in store!—it would be worth it, and more than worth it.
    The excitement of the thought made her feel a little faint, and she was glad when the champagne arrived and she could sip it. It certainly did much to bolster her morale, and she even felt a sudden surge of confidence concerning the future. Or, at least, she was not quite so much afraid that she was deliberately tempting providence.
    During the sweet course Martin outlined his plans for the following day in detail to her, and by the time coffee and an emerald liqueur—which she discovered was crème -de-menthe, and was unable to decide whether she liked or disliked—arrived, she knew that the wedding ceremony was to be attended, apart from themselves, by only Mrs. Elbe, as a witness, and a certain Dr. Bruce Carter, a friend of the bridegroom, also as a witness and best man, if he chose to look upon himself in that role. Immediately afterwards, they were to have lunch at a little hotel, and then start off for Herefordshire in the doctor’s car. They should reach their destination by early evening quite comfortably—possibly stopping to have dinner on the way—and by the time they reached Fountains, which was the name of his house, she would have had quite a full day.
    “Fountains is rather an unusual name for a house,” Stacey remarked. “Did you name it, or is it an old house? And is there some reason why the name suits it?”
    “It is a very old house,” he answered quietly, stubbing out a cigarette in the ash tray. “Actually it used to be known as Fountains Court, but nowadays we drop that part of it. In any case, it’s hardly been kept up in a style to merit it over the last few years.”
    “Is it your old home?” she asked, feeling a stirring of interest, seeing that it was so soon to become her home as well. “A family home?”
    “Not my family home, no.”
    “Then I suppose you bought it?”
    “I did buy it,” he admitted. He was engaged in lighting a