Free The Doctor's Lady by Jody Hedlund Page B

wedding, enjoy the prestige of married life, and share the rest of her life—all her dreams and hopes—with a husband.

    She had the voice of an angel.
    Eli sat forward on his chair, and with each note of Priscilla’s unaccompanied song his heart drummed louder. Tendrils of her hair floated around her face like a golden halo. With her eyes closed and her face lifted heavenward, he could almost believe she was an angel instead of the soft, genteel lady he’d agreed to marry.
    “Isn’t she lovely?” Mrs. White whispered.
    Priscilla was indeed the loveliest creature in both heaven and earth. But he wouldn’t give Mrs. White the satisfaction of a compliment. If not for her, he might have enjoyed the dinner and evening much more. But as it was, she’d prattled on about all her accomplishments as director of her missionary organization and boasted of her work with the Mite Society to help the poor.
    Upon reaching the last chord, Priscilla opened her eyes. Out of all the others in the parlor, her gaze sought him. Her top teeth came down over her bottom lip, and her wide eyes waited for his reaction.
    His gut twisted with sudden keenness, and he couldn’t make his arms move to clap with everyone else. Instead, he nodded to her.
    Her lashes came down over her flushed cheeks.
    “What did you think of our Priscilla, Dr. Ernest?” Mrs. White’s question nipped at him, as all her others had.
    He pushed himself out of the ornately carved chair. The eyes of the other guests fastened upon him—Reverend Lull and Mary Ann, Mr. White, and Priscilla—and they waited for his answer.
    The heat from the fireplace, the stuffiness of the small room, and Mrs. White’s smothering had plastered his shirt to his back. He needed a breath of fresh air as much as he needed life itself.
    “Miss White, thank you for the beautiful song. And I thank you, Mrs. White, for the very fine dinner.”
    “Must you go so soon?” the woman asked. “Surely you have time to listen to one more song?”
    “I’ll be back for the wedding on Sabbath eve.”
    “This Sabbath? That’s only four days away.” Mrs. White arose from the settee. “Dr. Ernest, there is absolutely no possible way we can have the wedding in four days. We’ll need at least a month, and even then we’ll have to rush to get everything ready on time.”
    Irritation pushed at his tongue, threatening to loosen it and make him say something he might later regret. The hassle was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid.
    “Oh, Doctor, I’m sure you can allow us at least a month.”
    “Mrs. White, listen to Dr. Ernest.” Mr. White rose from his chair and puffed out his chest.
    “Now, Mr. White, you don’t know anything about the enormity of planning for a wedding.” Mrs. White glared at her husband. “I’ll thank you to stay out of the conversation.”
    “Mother, we’ll make do.” Priscilla’s voice was gentle, as if she was used to placating her mother.
    “If you’re going to do any planning this week,” Eli said, “you’d best put your efforts into preparing Priscilla for the long journey. She’ll need several plain dresses—”
    “You can’t possibly expect Priscilla to be ready to travel so soon either. With all the trunks to pack—”
    “She gets one trunk.”
    Priscilla sucked in a soft breath and bumped against a round display table in the corner. Several framed portraits collapsed with a clatter.
    Mary Ann made a sharp noise of protest too, but her husband, the reverend, silenced her with a touch on the arm.
    “One trunk?” Mrs. White whispered, her voice laced with horror. “Impossible.”
    Eli’s jaw tightened. “She gets one small trunk.”
    “We don’t have any small trunks,” Mrs. White replied.
    “Then find one.”
    Priscilla stepped forward. “Are you sure there won’t be room for two—one for my personal items and one for my books and school supplies?”
    Was he making a mistake marrying her? How would she ever be able to handle the