They’d never had any children of their own in the twenty-four years of their marriage, and that was possibly why Elizabeth loved her nieces so dearly. Mama had mentioned once to Father that it was through no fault of their not trying, that it simply was not meant to be.
Of course, Kelsey shouldn’t have heard that. Mama hadn’t realized that she had been within earshot at the time. And Kelsey had overheard other things over the years, of how confounded Mama was as to why Elizabeth had married Elliott, who was frankly homely and had had no money to speak of, when she’d had so many other handsome, wealthy suitors to choose from instead. And besides, Elliott was in trade.
But that was Elizabeth’s business, and the fact that she’d always been a champion of the less fortunate might have had a great deal to do with her choice—or not. Mama had also been known to say that there was no accounting for love and its strange workings, that it wasn’t, nor ever would be, governed by logic or even one’s own will.
“Doesn’t know that we’re ruined.”
Kelsey blinked, so much time had passed since she had asked her question. And that wasn’t the answer she’d anticipated. In fact, she could barely give it credit. His drinking could hardly be cause for social ruin, when so many gentlemen—and ladies, for that matter—drank to excess at the many gatherings they frequented. So she’d decided to humor him.
“So you’ve created a bit of a scandal, have you?” Kelsey had chided.
“A scandal?” He’d seemed confused then. “Oh, yes, it will be, indeed it will. And Elizabeth will never forgive me when they take this house away.”
Kelsey had gasped, but once again, she’d drawn the wrong conclusion. “You’ve gambled it away?”
“Now, why would I do a fool thing like that? Think I want to end up like your father? Or perhaps I should have. At least then there would have been a slim chance for salvation, when now there is none.”
She’d been utterly confused herself by that point, not to mention thoroughly embarrassed. Her father’s past sins, with the accompanying reminder of what those sins had wrought, shamed her.
So with high color in her cheeks that he probably didn’t notice, she’d said, “I don’t understand, Uncle Elliott. Who, then, is going to take this house away? And why?”
He’d dropped his head back onto his hands again, unable to face her in his shame, and mumbled out the story. She’d had to lean close to catch most of what he was saying, suffering the fumes of sour whiskey to do so. And by the time he’d finished she’d been shocked into silence.
It was much, much worse than she’d thought, and it really was so reminiscent of her own parents’ tragedy, though they’d handled the situation quite differently. But in Elliott’s case, he hadn’t had the strength of character to accept a failure, buckle up, and go on from there.
When Kelsey and Jean had come to live with Aunt Elizabeth eight months before, Kelsey had been too much in mourning over the deaths of her parents to notice anything amiss. She hadn’t even thought to wonder why Uncle Elliott was home more often than not.
She supposed it wasn’t something they thought it necessary to tell their nieces, that Elliott had lost his job of twenty-two years and was so distraught that he hadn’t been able to hold another position for very long since. And yet they had continued to live as if nothing had changed. They’d even taken in two more mouths to feed when they could hardly afford to feed themselves.
Kelsey wondered if Aunt Elizabeth even knew the extent of their debt. Elliott had been living on credit, which was a standard practice for the gentry, but it was also standard to pay those creditors before they took matters to the courts. But with no money coming in, Elliott had already borrowed all he could from his friends to keep the creditors at bay. He had no one left to turn to. And the situation was out of control.
He was going to lose Aunt Elizabeth’s house, the house that had been in Kelsey’s family for generations. Aunt Elizabeth had inherited it, being the older sister. And the creditors were threatening to take it away. In three days’ time.
And that was why Elliott was drinking himself sick, hoping to find some courage in that bottle to end his own life, because he didn’t have the courage to face what was going to happen in the next few days. It was his duty to provide for them—for his wife, anyway—and he’d failed miserably.
Of course, killing himself wasn’t an option. She’d pointed out how much worse it would be for Elizabeth if she had to face eviction and a funeral as well. For Kelsey and Jean, well, they’d already faced one eviction. Yet they’d had somewhere to go that time. This time…Kelsey simply couldn’t let it happen. Her sister was her responsibility now. It was up to her to see to it that Jean was raised properly, with a proper roof over her head. And if that meant that she had to…
She wasn’t quite sure how it had come up, the selling of her. Elliott had first mentioned that he’d already thought of marrying her to the best offer, but he’d put off broaching the subject with her for so long that now it was too late for that, and he’d explained why it was too late, the need for serious deliberation for something that important that couldn’t be done in just a few days.
Perhaps it was the drink that had loosened his tongue, but he’d gone on to relate how the same thing had happened to a friend of his many years ago, how he’d lost everything, but his daughter had saved the family by selling herself to an old reprobate who prized virginity and had been willing to pay extremely well for it.
Then, in almost the same breath, he told of approaching one gentleman he knew fairly well to find out if he’d be interested in a young wife. The reply had been, “Won’t marry the gel, but I’m in need of a new mistress. Pay you a few pounds if she’d be willing…”
Which was how the talk of mistresses in relation to wives had arisen, how some rich lords would pay very handsomely for a fresh young mistress they could show off to their friends, especially a girl who hadn’t already made the rounds of those friends, and pay even more if she happened to be an innocent in the bargain.
He’d planted the seeds well, showing her the solution without actually asking her to sacrifice herself. She’d already been shocked by the talk of mistresses and heartsick over the situation and how it would affect them all, but mostly she’d been desperately worried about Jean, and how this could ruin her chances for a decent marriage one day.
Kelsey could find a job, possibly, but hardly one that would keep them much above the level of poverty, especially if she took on the responsibility of supporting them all. She couldn’t imagine Aunt Elizabeth working, and Elliott, well, he’d already proven pathetically that he couldn’t be depended on to hold a job anymore, not for very long.
It was visions of her young sister resorting to begging on the streets to help out that had prompted Kelsey to ask, albeit in a mortified whisper, “Do you know of some man who would be willing to—to pay enough if I—if I agreed to become his mistress?”
Elliott had looked so hopeful, and so damn relieved, even as he’d replied, “No, I don’t know a single one. But I know of a place in London that the rich lords frequent, a place where you can be presented to receive an excellent offer.”
She’d stood there, silent for a long while, still so hesitant about such a monumental decision and so sick to her stomach that this did, in fact, seem to be their only option. Elliott actually broke out in a sweat before she finally nodded her consent.
And then he’d tried to console her, as if anything could just then. “It won’t be so bad, Kelsey, really it won’t. A woman can make a great deal of money for herself this way if she’s smart, enough to become independent—even marry later, if she chooses.”
That wasn’t a bit true, and they both knew it. Her own chances for a good marriage would be gone forever. The stigma that would be hers when she went through with this would follow her for the rest of her days. She’d never be welcomed in polite society again. But that was her cross to bear. At least her sister would still have the future she deserved
.
Still in a state of shock over what she’d agreed to, she’d suggested, “I will leave it to you to tell Aunt Elizabeth of this.”
“No! No, she mustn’t know. She’d never permit it. But I’m sure you will think of something reasonable to tell her to excuse your absence.”
She had to do this, too? When it was doubtful that she’d be able to think of anything other than the appalling truth of what she’d agreed to?
She’d been ready to finish off that bottle of spirits herself by the time she left him. But she had come up with a weak excuse to tell the others. She’d told Aunt Elizabeth that Anne, one of her friends from Kettering, had written that she was seriously ill, the doctors not offering much hope. Kelsey had to visit, of course, and give what comfort she could. And Uncle Elliott had offered to escort her.
Elizabeth hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Kelsey’s pallor could be credited to worry over her friend. And Jean, bless her, didn’t badger her with her usual hundreds of questions simply because she didn’t recognize the name of this particular friend. But, then, Jean had matured a great deal during the past year. A tragedy in the family had a way of interrupting childhood, sometimes permanently. Kelsey would almost have preferred the hundreds of questions from her twelve-year-old sister that used to test her patience. But Jean was still mourning.
And when Kelsey didn’t return home from the visit to Kettering? Well, she would have to worry about that later. Would she ever even see her sister or Aunt Elizabeth again? Did she dare, when they might discover the truth? She didn’t know. Right then, she only knew that nothing would ever be the same for her again.
About the Author
Johanna Lindsey has been hailed as one of the most popular authors of romantic fiction, with more than sixty million copies of her novels sold. World renowned for her novels of “first-rate romance” (New York Daily News), Lindsey is the author of forty-seven previous national bestselling novels, many of which reached the #1 spot on the New York Times bestseller list. Lindsey lives in Maine with her family.
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Praise
Johanna Lindsey
“HAS A SURE TOUCH WHERE HISTORICAL ROMANCE IS CONCERNED.”
Newport News Daily Press
LOVE ME FOREVER
“ENCHANTING ROMANCE…THIS STORY HAS EVERYTHING FOR EVERYONE: PASSION, WONDERFUL CHARACTERS, SPICY DIALOGUE AND A COMPELLING PLOT.”
Affaire de Coeur
“GIDDY ENTERTAINMENT…BESTSELLING WRITER LINDSEY HAS NOT ABANDONED HER WINNING FORMULA.”
Publishers Weekly
“THIS ENJOYABLE, ENTERTAINING READ WILL SURELY ATTRACT THE INTEREST OF OLD AND NEW FANS.”
Booklist
“EXCELLENT…LIVELY AND AMUSING…THE QUEEN OF HISTORICAL NOVELS HAS ADDED ANOTHER JEWEL TO HER COLLECTION.”
Rendezvous
Other Books by Johanna Lindsey
ALL I NEED IS YOU • ANGEL • BRAVE THE WILD WIND
CAPTIVE BRIDE • DEFY NOT THE HEART
FIRES OF WINTER • A GENTLE FEUDING
GENTLE ROGUE • GLORIOUS ANGEL
HEART OF A WARRIOR • HEART OF THUNDER
A HEART SO WILD • HEARTS AFLAME • THE HEIR
HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS • JOINING
KEEPER OF THE HEART • LOVE ME FOREVER
LOVE ONLY ONCE • THE MAGIC OF YOU
MAN OF MY DREAMS • ONCE A PRINCESS
PARADISE WILD • A PIRATE’S LOVE • THE PRESENT
PRISONER OF MY DESIRE • THE PURSUIT
SAVAGE THUNDER • SAY YOU LOVE ME
SECRET FIRE • SILVER ANGEL
SO SPEAKS THE HEART • SURRENDER MY LOVE
TENDER IS THE STORM • TENDER REBEL
UNTIL FOREVER • WARRIOR’S WOMAN
WHEN LOVE AWAITS • YOU BELONG TO ME
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from Say You Love Me copyright © 1996 by Johanna Lindsey.
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 95-13549
ISBN: 0-380-72570-3
www.avonromance.com
LOVE ME FOREVER. Copyright © 1995 by Johanna Lindsty. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © JUNE 2011 ISBN: 978-0-06-210656-8
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