Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
The Reluctant Bride
By
Georgia Grace
Chapter 1
Music drifted up from the room below, and Ellie turned over on the bed. It was the middle of the afternoon, too hot to go out, but she couldn’t rest, either. Her cousin knew that she always went upstairs after lunch, he must be doing this to annoy her.
She put her feet onto the floor, struggling to find her shoes. It was nearly cool enough to walk over to Charlotte’s, she thought. She would just have to wait it out until then.
As she stood up, her hand brushed against the picture frame on her bedstand, and it fell over and then fell onto the floor, smashing the glass. Ellie gave an exclamation, and rushed to pick up the painting inside.
Glass caught on her fingers as she lifted up the picture, and she quickly passed it to her other hand. She turned it over, looking at the soft features of her father. It was not a good picture, she thought, perhaps the worst portrait she had painted. It certainly looked nothing like the large, professionally-done portrait downstairs, which her cousin had refused to give to her.
Of course, everything was his now, and she had no real right to even be in the house. He had agreed to let her stay in the house ‘for a time’, but she did not whether he would ever ask her to leave. He might let her live here for the rest of her life, but he had the right to turn her out of doors without any warning at all.
If only Father had not made that stupid will, leaving everything to his son with reversion to his nephew, Hank, and not even naming his daughter. He had not expected William to die so suddenly, and there had been no time to change the will between his son’s death and his own. Of course, William would have taken care of his sister, and the house and land would have been safe. But he had died with a bullet in his neck, and the people he was with had dragged his body out into the street like the body of a dog. Father had collapsed that day, and never been well enough to hold a pen afterward. He had died within a few months, barely able to turn his head to look at her.
She put on her coat slowly, and stepped into the hall. Hank was not in the drawing room, but instead was stood on the stair, holding a glass of brandy, swilling the liquid around in his hands and looking up at her.
“Cousin,” he said warmly. “I am sorry to wake you. I hope you will forgive me.”
She made a consenting sound, and carried on down the stairs. He took a step towards her.
“Eleanor, Ellie.” He held out his arm to stop her passing. “Did you give any more consideration to my offer? I would like to start the arrangements shortly, and some of my family will need to start traveling soon if they are to make it in time. I thought a summer marriage would suit us both.”
“I won’t marry you, Hank.” She said, flatly, staring straight ahead of her as he moved closer.
“You’ll not get another offer as good as mine around here.” He went to touch her, and she took a step backwards. “Ellie, be sensible. You know it is what your father would have wanted.”
“I don’t think he wanted us to get married.”
“Well, I’m the owner of this house, and head of the family, and I think that you should marry me. After all, you’ve not got anything that any other man would want. Certainly round here men want a certain…” he paused. “A certain something. Refuse me and I doubt that you’ll find another man who would be willing to have you as a wife.”
Her face must have expressed her feelings, as he dropped his hand and bowed sarcastically as she walked past. She flung open the door, and rushed out into the street, glad to feel the cool fresh air on her face.
Martha poured her another coffee, and shook her head as Ellie repeated her tale. “He’s no-good,” she said, not bothering to lower her voice. “He’s been no-good since he was born, and he’s only got worse since he got the house. Your father was a short-sighted fool.”
“Well, if we are in the mood for being frank, so was yours.” Ellie put down the cup, and turned to her friend. “Didn’t he draw up the will? He should have told father it would be a catastrophe.”
“No-one could have expected Will to die the way he did.” Martha went pale, and looked down at her hands, the white mark of a wedding ring still visible, although she had long since removed the band. “It was a disaster for all of us.”
She stood up, and came over to where Ellie was sitting. “You can’t stay wrapped up in black forever, Ellie. Even if it does flatter your hair, you look as pale as a nun.”
Ellie took off her mourning veil, uncurling the knot of bright red hair concealed beneath it, and letting the tresses fall onto her shoulders. Martha gave a gasp of admiration, and said “You really should start thinking about your own marriage.”
“Marriage to whom?” Ellie said, tying up her hair again. “It will not be with Hank, and there is not another man in the district who I would have as my husband.”
“You’re too fussy.” Martha said, “you expect too much from a man. I didn’t demand half as much from Will before I married him.”
“Ahhh, but that was Will,” Ellie said, smiling. “How could you refuse him?”
“Well, there is no-one around here as good as Will, that is certain. If you want a husband, you might have to look further afield.”
“Further afield?” Ellie looked at her friend in astonishment.
Martha reached down to the table beside Ellie, and pulled out a magazine, carefully rolled up in order to conceal the title. She turned to a page with a number of ads, all seeking a bride to come and live in the West.
“You think I should be a mail order bride?”
“Men out there are going to be less demanding because they’ll just be happy for someone to make the beds and cook dinner.” She nodded her head at Ellie’s black costume. “And it must be better than staying in a home that’s no longer yours and trailing to and from my house like a misplaced nun.”
Ellie took the paper from her, trying to study the photographs more closely.
“Well, maybe,” she said. “I wonder if there is anyone out there for me.”
Martha laughed, and took back the paper. “Ellie, there is someone for everyone. You’re a good-looking young woman, and you know that your father taught you well. If you can wash, sew and keep figures then I don’t know what other skills you have to have to find a husband.”
“Hank seems to think that I’ll not find someone else to make me an offer.”
“Hank is an idiot.” Martha said. “I still can’t believe that your father put his name down as his heir. What Old Carter was thinking of, I’ll never know.”
She threw the magazine onto the couch, and came over to sit next to her friend. “But what is done is done. You’ll have to put your mind to searching a bit harder for a husband, that is all.”
Chapter 2
Ellie did not take the magazine home, and nor did she talk to Hank when she was back at the house. Instead, she thought about Martha’s opinion when she was in her room, laying on the bed and staring at the dark sky. It was as black as her funeral clothes, donned for her brother and never taken off. Other, brighter clothes had been given away, or turned into other items, leaving only these great, dark dresses. Even so, s
he still made no move to seek out a husband, and the only man pressing for her hand was Hank, who seemed more determined than ever to make her his wife.
He pushed her relentlessly for a date, reminding her that she had never had any opportunities to meet other men, that her father had never taken her to town even when she was old enough for a debutante’s ball. In Hank’s opinion, this meant that Ellie’s father intended her to marry her cousin. That was also why he had made Hank his heir without mentioning Ellie. She could see the sense in this, but really did not want to think about making a marriage with her cousin. In fact, that Hank was using her father to promote the marriage just made her more determined to refuse him. She was still not sure about whether the magazine advertisements were the right idea, however.
Martha was disappointed that Ellie didn’t immediately take her up on the offer, and wasn’t afraid to say so. She said that Ellie needed to get out into the world again, and that she could enjoy talking to people without having to commit to anything just yet.
“Talk to people! You mean talk to men. Strange men that I’ve never met, and yet want me to be their wife although I am hundreds of miles away from them.”
“Men that you’re never likely to meet if you stay at home all the time, Ellie. Did you ever meet an eligible man who was prepared to make you an offer?” She shook her head as Ellie remained silent. “And really, what is keeping you there, but grief? No-one can live their life with grief as their sole reason for being. You’ve clung on to it for so long that I don’t think you know how to put it aside.”
“I do?”
“Then how long do you intend to mourn for your father and brother? It has been more than a year already, and you are still in the same strict mourning you were before this all happened. Tell me, are you intending to go to your grave in this black dress?” She flicked up the lace frills on Ellie’s skirt.
“I don’t know.”
“Well if you are not planning to be buried as you are, what do you want to do with your life? Are you going to marry Hank? I think not. So do you expect to live in the house for the rest of your life?” Martha put her hand on Ellie’s shoulder. “Hank will marry eventually, you know.”
“If he marries tomorrow it is nothing to me.”
“It will be something when the new bride wants you out of her house. Why would a woman accept her husband’s young female cousin? I certainly would not have done, and neither will most other women. And if you think that Hank will marry to oblige you after you refuse him, well you are being a fool to yourself. Oh, Ellie, you need to grow up.”
Ellie stood, snatching her shawl from the side. “Need to grow up!” She repeated. “I never thought I’d hear anyone tell me I need to be older than I am.”
“You have been your family’s pet for too long, and even Hank gave into your demands to stay in your old room. You make demands on people as though you were a little child, and yet at the same time want to be ‘left alone’ when it comes to taking care of yourself. You can’t carry on clinging to your past as a child forever. That’s all I meant.”
Ellie did not reply, but left the house quickly, not looking back as she ran down the street to her own home.
That afternoon, as music drifted up from the drawing room again, Ellie found herself repeating Martha’s words, trying to understand why she was so angry, but still couldn’t get the idea of moving on out of her head. She was beginning to think that maybe she had been selfish in asking to stay on in the house. She should be making room for Hank’s future wife.
She sat up in the bed, looking around her. The room had not been decorated for over a decade, and where pieces of the wallpaper were falling to the floor, Ellie could see the brighter, childish colors of her youth. This room had been the heart of her childhood, surrounded by a warm and loving family. Now they were all gone: mother, father, brother, all buried now in the local churchyard. Martha was right, if she didn’t act soon she would be buried beside them in this old black dress.
She had nothing left here, she realized. Nothing to hold her back. Hank could have the house and land, she would not know what to do with it anyway. Instead, Ellie would find her husband somewhere else, and try to rebuild that former happy life in a new city.
Martha was happy to help her, and together they sent away requests for husbands. At first, Ellie had wanted someone in the larger cities, such as San Francisco, but she soon found that they wanted someone with a considerably dowry, or with lands that they could combine with their own. Gradually, she started to look outward from the cities, turning her sights on the young, unmarried men of the gold towns. There were so many of them that she struggled to make a choice, and more than once Martha had to remind her that she could only marry one man at a time.
“You are carried away with the idea of love, rather than being in love,” Martha warned, “you are going to be very unhappy if you can’t be more sensible.”
“Who is sensible when they marry?” Ellie said, and started to look through the adverts again. Martha suddenly scooped them all into a pile, and pulled out one from the bottom.
“You’ll have to start looking more closely at the men who are writing to you. Let’s start with this one.”
She handed Ellie a neatly written letter, full of promise, and from a Daniel Black, in Grass Valley.
“Grass Valley.” Ellie said, “that sounds like a place where I could be happy.”
Hank had been surprised and then angered by her news, trying to insist that his cousin stay here by his side. When he said that her reputation would be ruined, she laughed at him, and after packing her items into a small bag, left her house.
She was sad to leave the home she had grown up with, but as she stood on the doorstep again, she could see the city of New York creeping towards her door. Soon the leafy streets would be part of that city, no longer quiet but loud and full of fashionable people and businessmen with unhappy wives and neglected children. She didn’t want to live here anymore, she had turned her head to the West.
Chapter 3
Ellie rode alone for the last part of the journey, saying goodbye to the other passengers as the descended at the San Francisco coach stop. Her luggage had been loaded and unloaded several times, and she was as grateful now as ever that she had not included any more items in her luggage. Hank had kept most of her everyday goods anyway, claiming them as part of the house goods. She knew that he was angry, but at the same time thought that he might recover quickly and find a good woman who would keep the house as the Carter women had done for decades.
As the coach rumbled on, Ellie sat back in the seat, keen to read the letters she had got from her future husband. He had helped her to organize the trip, and told her what coaches to catch. It had been easier to travel down towards San Francisco, and then up, he said, as it would be too risky to cross the Nevada Valley once the bad weather came in.
Risk, danger, wild nature. That was the life she was traveling towards as she clung onto her carpet bag, and the coach bounced along badly worn paths. It was frightening and exciting in almost equal measure.
Grass Valley sat at the bottom of the mountains, nestled into the lower slopes and almost cut off from the world. The only links were the very small paths which traveled up and down the mountain, through thick woodland and past flowing rivers. In these hills, she knew mountain men would be hunting animals, and miners would be digging or panning for gold. It was a world away from New York.
The streets of Grass Valley had been paved, several years ago, with wooden boards, and Ellie stepped out onto them with some nervousness. They did not look very secure, and she could see where one of the boards had split along the middle, so that it wobbled as she stood on it. She decided not to stand too long on the boards, and instead walked quickly up the steps to the general store.
Daniel had advised her to call there first, to inquire about places to stay before marriage, and also about new homes in the area. He would need a new house in order to accommodate a wife, he had sa
id, but had not explained what he meant. As she looked at the distant hillsides, and then at the houses huddled closely together, she began to wonder if he lived in one of the huts she could see dotted around on the hills. She wouldn’t like that very much, she thought, and felt her heart drop at the idea of a half-wild husband working through forests and barely at home all day.
As she stepped into the store, she saw that it was full of people. They turned towards her, watching her as she walked to the counter. The man behind the counter smiled at her, and seemed about to show her his prize purchases.
She didn’t want to wait in this small, stuffy store for too long. She could feel the crowd pressing closer towards her, sidling along the edges of the shelves as though hunting prey.
“I’m Ellie Carter.” She said, clearly. “I think you are expecting me.”
“Oh, honey. We’re all expecting you.” A cheerful voice at the back of the store made her look around. A smallish woman came forward, her bright red dress standing out against the dark of the store. Her cheeks were red, perhaps from living in this town, Ellie thought, and having to work harder than the pale, delicate women of New York. She was about to turn back to the storekeeper when the woman spoke again.
“Daniel has told us all about you,” the woman said, and slipped her arm around Ellie’s. “I’m Mrs. Stamp, come with me.”
Ellie took her hand from the counter. “I’m supposed to be booking a room.” The storekeeper shook his head, and held up one hand, indicating that Ellie should go with Mrs. Stamp.
“All taken care of,” Mrs. Stamp said, waving her free arm around the room. “We like to take care of our young misses who come here to get wed. We don’t want them to have to do too much by themselves.”
“Daniel asked you to book a room?” Ellie felt some doubt creeping into her mind about the man she was about to marry. Was this the good judgment she had hoped for?
The Reluctant Bride (Grass Valley Mail Order Brides Book 3) Page 1