Overnight Wife(30)

I watch them watching her. Some of their congratulations are heartfelt, sincere. Others are grasping, reaching. Most of my relatives are decent people, really. But they look at my bank account; they see my name in the newspapers, and they can’t help themselves. After all, decent people or not, everyone’s attitudes shift when they get close to money. Especially the kind of money I have.

The kind of money that let me buy a house like this for my parents. The kind of money that restored this family name to the prominence it once had, way back when.

I care about my family, of course. But you can’t choose your family. And mine, well… they can be more of a handful than most.

I weave through a sea of aunts to reach Mara, and loop an arm around her waist, feeling how tense every muscle in her body is. She tilts her head back to rest against my shoulder, in a move that raises a sea of awws from the surrounding family members. But when she leans in to whisper in my ear, it’s not the sort of sweet-nothing I’m sure they imagine she’s saying.

“What the hell did you just throw me into?” she whispers.

I lean down to kiss her jawline, right where it reaches the lobe of her ear. My tongue darts across her diamond earring, toying with it, making a little sigh escape her lips before I respond. “My parents wanted it to be a surprise,” I murmur, my breath ghosting across her cheek, drawing a little shiver from her. “My mother insisted that I owed her. I believe the words were ‘you robbed me of a wedding.’”

Mara tilts her head back far enough to catch my eye, steel glinting in hers. “Still. You should have at least warned me. There are so many people here—”

“They don’t matter.” I turn her to face me, cupping her face between my palms. “Nobody matters but you and me, Mara.”

Her breath catches in her throat. Her pupils dilate where they fix on mine. “John…”

“John.” My mother’s voice breaks through our conversation, as her hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “Don’t monopolize your beautiful bride,” she says, teeth flashing in a wide smile. “After all, you’ve had her to yourself for weeks. We want to get to know her.”

With an eye roll just for Mara, I shift a little, letting my mother hook an arm through Mara’s.

“Come on, dear, you haven’t even seen the gift table yet. It was tricky to figure out a good gift, of course—John here wouldn’t give us any hints about your tastes. I hope it’s all right—we decided it would be safer to just buy for the future instead…”

I trail after my mother, who’s leading Mara toward an elaborate table set up near the rear wall. There are a few gift-wrapped boxes on it, some cards, and… Oh God. My stomach sinks.

A bassinet.

Is she crazy?

“Mother,” I say, raising my voice.

Mom doesn’t stop. “We figured you’d need all of this soon,” my mother babbles, pointing at the blatant baby supplies. There are bottles, little onesies, even a car seat.

Mara tugs her arm from my mother’s with force. “Mrs. Walloway, this is all so sweet, but it’s… it’s too much.” Her face is flushed, and I can tell she’s trying not to panic.

I understand. So am I. I knew my parents wanted children, for me to carry on the lineage, but this is too far, even for them.

“Nonsense dear. It’s never too soon to start planning for the eventual future.”

“Eventual…” Mara’s face blanches now. “That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think?”

Over Mara’s shoulder, my mother frowns. “What could be presumptuous about carrying on the family? What could be more important than that?”

“My career, for one thing,” Mara counters.

My mother’s frown deepens. We’re attracting attention now—a couple of cousins have noticed us and are exchanging sideways smirks. It makes me want to grab Mara and pull her out of here right now. I knew this party would be leaping into the deep end, but I didn’t think it would end in us drowning. “Career is one thing, but family must come first, dear.”

“Oh really?” Mara arches an eyebrow. “Why, because I’m young and female, I must want to pop out a baby immediately?”

“Nobody said anything about immediately, but don’t be na?ve. Our family needs an heir. John needs children, to carry on our name, our legacy.”

“He needs them?” Mara shoots me a glare over her shoulder. “That’s news to me. He hasn’t mentioned wanting anything of the sort.”

“Well, I would have thought that would be implied,” my mother responds, nonplussed. “After all, he keeps you well, doesn’t he? All that money and privilege doesn’t come free, dear.”

Mara’s gaze narrows where it’s fixed on mine. “Oh, so I’m being paid to be a baby incubator, is that it?” When she speaks, it’s not directed at my mother anymore, but right at me. “Forget it. The last thing I need is to be some kind of kept woman.” She shoves away from my mother, straight through the gaggle of cousins.

Away from me.

I flash one last glare at my mother, who spreads her hands wide, an innocent look on her face, like she doesn’t know what she just did. “Thank you for that,” I mutter, and then I beeline after Mara.