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it all. If there could be love, then even if the physical aspect of marriage was not enjoyable, it might at least be bearable.
           By the time she had finished bathing and dressing for the morning, Carrie's resolve was firm. Noah had been considerate in sending the bath. It was a good sign. She would just have to try harder to breach his defenses, to learn what he was like, to learn to love him. If she could do that, might he not learn to love her as well?
           Eagerly she looked in the mirror to check her toilette one last time. Her face was a trifle pale, but her fiery hair was piled elegantly high on her head in a sophisticated style that made her look older. Her dress of tan silk trimmed in brown satin was tasteful and beautifully tailored. The matching chocolate hat, slippers, and parasol completed a picture of-refinement. Yes, she would do, Carrie decided.
           “At least I have the wardrobe to impress him. If he likes the way I look and dress, it's a beginning.” Firmly she opened the door and stepped outside into the bright promise of midmorning sunlight.
           When Noah saw Carrie moving along the railing, he started to intercept her, then stopped to admire the picture she made and the way the people around her reacted. Male passengers looked with open admiration and women with ill-disguised jealousy. Small wonder. The sun highlighted the dazzling fire of her hair like living tongues of flame, flashing out from beneath her hat. Her delicately sculptured brows arched above bright green eyes, and her pink lips parted in a generous smile as she nodded graciously to fellow passengers. The warm tan and brown tones of her ensemble accented her exotic coloring, enriching the pale ivory complexion and warm red hair.
           Just wait till the cattle barons in Miles City see her. I could take her to the governor's mansion or even Washington. Once more Noah congratulated himself on his choice of an aristocratic and refined woman to stand by his side. Yes, she would do, Noah decided.
           Carrie watched her husband stride across the crowded deck toward her, wending his way by the passengers who were enjoying the invigorating spring sun. He looked robust and commanding as his strong white teeth flashed a striking smile. She returned it.
           Through breakfast they chatted of inconsequential things. He told her more about Montana, the ranch, and Miles City, which was the nearest town of any size. It was easy to get him to discuss his empire.
           “You'll like Montana, Carrie. It's a land of men who'll appreciate a woman of your obvious breeding and refinement. Real ladies are still rare and treasured. I'll be proud to show you off as my wife.”
           The words were superficially meant as a compliment, she was certain. However, Carrie couldn't help but feel there was an underlying proprietarily tone to his voice that made her uneasy. Before she reconsidered it, she spoke out, “I'm only human, Noah, and not all that refined, really. I'd like to be your helper, your companion, someone you could learn to love. I don't want to be on a pedestal—”
           Before she could go on, he fixed her with a stern glare while that patronizing schoolmaster look came over his face once more. “Love.” He fairly sneered the word. “Let me make one thing clear in that vacant, beautiful little head of yours, my darling. Love is for moonstruck boys and flighty old ladies. It's a myth. A wife need only be concerned with providing heirs for her husband and acting as his gracious hostess. In return for your loyalty and duty to me, I'll provide handsomely for you. I'll see to your every material need and leave you and our children well provided for when I die. Forget the love nonsense and accept what I offer you—a fine social position, wealth, comfort, security. That's what life is really about.”
           Carrie sat very still during his discourse,