The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons
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He chuckled. “Too bad we didn’t meet before this, then. We could have been having madcap croquet matches years ago.”
She laughed. “You probably would have won, too. I have a feeling you would’ve been just a wee bit older and stronger than I.”
“Not that it gave me much of an advantage last time.”
Silence fell between them. A breeze blew in from the open window, fluttering the curtains, bringing with it the crisp mountain air. Catching the curls hanging at her neck and swirling them around her face.
She exhaled, closing her eyes. Somewhere in the house, people laughed and billiard balls clinked together. “You don’t have to sit with me any longer.” He was good and tired of people doing things for him simply because he paid them. It stung sometimes, a burr amid their fawning. If he and the hallboy switched places, the lad who had never before been noticed would all of a sudden become the most popular person in town. It made him wonder why he even bothered to have a personality.
“I want to be here. Unless, you wish me to go.”
The door opened. Travers entered.
“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but I thought you’d wish to know. Miss Tremaine just posted the letter.” The butler held out an envelope atop a silver salver.
Ignoring the pain rattling every bone in his body, Geoffrey sat up and reached for it. Sure enough, Violet’s finishing-school script flounced across the velum. Mrs. Millicent Hayward.
“Thank you, Travers. Just what I needed to brighten my day.” He passed the letter to Ada. “Throw that in the fire, will you?”
With more eagerness than the occasion warranted, she stood and chucked the letter into the crackling fire. Hands on her hips, she turned back to Travers.
“Thanks, Trav.” She grinned. “You’re a real pal.” She looked ready to stick out her hand to the stoic gentleman but apparently thought better of it and resumed her seat.
“You’re welcome, ma’am.” Travers bowed stiffly and left the room.
“Well, I’m glad that’s settled.” Geoffrey glanced at Ada. She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. “You sure you want to stay?” He had to make certain she still wasn’t thinking of payday.
“Why would I want to talk to Violet Tremaine, when I could have the benefit of your fascinating conversation?” She gave him a playful look.
“Of course there could be no comparison between the two of us.” Keep it light. Keep it simple. They could have fun together, joke together. But no more of the heart-to-heart conversations they’d been having over the past few hours. The forest sprite had gotten under his skin.
And letting her get too close had become far too risky.
Chapter 9
Did all his hired staff feel so… valued?
Sitting beside him that afternoon had done things to Ada that spun way out of control. Her heart twisted at the thought of the sad little boy with everything in his lap, yet truly nothing of worth.
She was not developing feelings for Geoffrey Buchanan. She couldn’t be. They had only known each other a fortnight, a reasonable amount of time to have become friends, but nothing more. Yet what lingered in the air between them was more. For her, at least.
She couldn’t make this mistake. Let him mean anything to her except a paycheck and a job. That was all she’d bargained for.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d be left with her money, a job, and a broken heart. The last free of charge.
She forced a cheerful smile as she sat across the table from Mrs. Buchanan and Mamie playing Hearts, the only game she’d confessed to knowing. They seemed to take it in stride, no doubt thinking her sheltered. Preserved from all polluting influences by a careful governess. One who apparently hadn’t included much about proper table etiquette and the various distinctions between imported wines.
“My dear, I’ve been thinking. Since you’ve never been abroad, you and Geoffrey might enjoy a trip to Europe for your honeymoon. There are so many places you would benefit from seeing. Paris. Rome. London. So many romantic destinations to visit and sights to see. I think it would be perfect.”
Oh yes. Totally perfect. But utterly impossible.
“We haven’t spent much time discussing a honeymoon. But I’ll be sure to mention it to him.” She smiled warmly at the woman. “I would dearly love to see Europe.”
“So you shall, I’m sure. From the way he looks at you, I doubt Geoffrey would deny anything you asked of him.” Penelope Buchanan smiled before returning to her cards.
Mamie stared at the wall as if it were the most intriguing thing in the world.
Ada bit her lip. Obviously, Mrs. Buchanan had fallen for her son’s little charade. Bravo to Geoffrey. He’d pulled it off. And hopefully enjoyed the reprieve from hounding females.
Yet what came after? When he broke off their engagement in a public scene and paid her off quietly later? Would he get the peace he so desperately wanted? Every time she thought of it, a hard lump settled in her throat. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Teddy’s health. Who cared if Mr. Millionaire was miserable or not.
It’s strange, doing something I love with someone else.
Well, in just a few days he’d have to find someone else. Because she wouldn’t be here.
A strange ache speared her heart.
“You know, dear, I congratulate you. I had my doubts at first, whether or not you’d be a suitable wife for Geoffrey.” Mrs. Buchanan won the game and laid down her cards. “But after seeing you together, I’m completely convinced you’re perfect together. Don’t you agree, Mamie?”
Mamie nodded, her dangly emerald earrings swaying. “Most completely. They’re a perfect match. Ada has all the qualities Geoffrey so desperately needs. Charm. A sense of fun. And she’s not afraid to speak her mind. While Geoffrey has…” She tapped her finger to her chin. “Well, he’s got the US Mint.” She grinned. “They’re totally perfect for each other.”
A lump engulfed Ada’s throat, even as she laughed with Mamie. Tears burned her eyes.
She stood so quickly she nearly knocked over her chair.
“Why, honey, what’s the matter?” Mamie gave her a curious look.
“I’m fine.” She put on her practiced smile. “Just a splitting headache.” And a breaking heart. “But I think I will retire, if you all don’t mind.”
“Of course not, dear. Would you like for me to send up a tonic? I have some wonderful headache powders in my room.” A worried frown knit Mrs. Buchanan’s brow.
“No, thank you. I’ll be all right, if only I can get some rest. Please… excuse me.” She hurried from the drawing room and out into the dark and silent hall.
Tears clogged her throat and she sank against the cool marble, pressing her cheek against the edge of a pillar. If she had to look into their eyes another minute… Mrs. Buchanan’s full of such hope and expectation. The woman actually believed Ada was marrying her son. Had even grown to like her. Though honestly, she wasn’t fit for anything other than cleaning the woman’s house. If Mrs. Buchanan knew the truth, she’d agree.
She would never know. In just a few days Ada would return to oblivion while Mrs. Buchanan resumed the hunt to find her son a suitable wife.
“Why did I ever agree to this, Geoffrey Buchanan?” She pressed her gloved hand to her mouth to quell her sobs. “Why? I thought this was just going to be a job. Only a job. I didn’t expect to…”
Fall in love with you.
But blast him, she had.
Tonight was it. The charade ended. Hopefully no one would take a second look at him after what he was about to do to Ada.
He adjusted his tie with shaking fingers. She sat across the table from him, looking so heartbreakingly beautiful in an emerald-colored dress edged in black lace, the candlelight capturing the diamonds at her throat.
Thank goodness, none of this was real. He would never dream of humiliating her this way if she were truly his.
She’d played her part well. Too well sometimes. Sitting by him while his a
nkle healed, reading War and Peace. The motorcar rides. The croquet matches. She’d been an adept performer. Earned her paycheck and more.
Geoffrey drew in a sharp breath. Glanced across the table at Ada and nodded briefly. They’d played it cool all day, so the evening’s events wouldn’t come as a great surprise. Still, she smiled at him, that reckless grin that told him she didn’t take any nonsense.
He smiled back. He’d let himself enjoy these last few moments. Drink in her smile like water before a trek through the desert.
The man who someday gained her heart, and someone eventually would, could never deserve her.
She cleared her throat softly. “Might I speak with you a moment?”
He played his part and looked surprised. “Of course, darling.”
She stood, a helpful footman pulling back her chair, and led the way out of the room. They walked in silence through the house and to the double doors. Outside, a chill wind bit the air, heavy clouds hovering overhead. Neither spoke until they reached the back lawn, directly in front of the dining room window. A perfect stage for the terrible drama that would unfold.
He let himself gaze at her a moment more, his hand aching to grab hers. The breeze tugged at her hair. She kept her eyes downcast, refusing to look at him.
“You’ve done well,” he said in an undertone. “The money will be waiting at your apartment as soon as you arrive home. I’ve left an envelope under your door with a first-class ticket for the ten o’clock train tonight.”
She nodded. He took a step closer, a sudden longing for her rising up in him so fiercely it made him ache. She’d become so much more than an employee. Yet it couldn’t continue. He couldn’t care for her in that way. She wouldn’t reciprocate. Or if she did, how could he be sure it wasn’t love for his rank and station that drove her? He couldn’t be sure.
“Go ahead.” He waited for her words, the ones that would forever erase his status as an eligible bachelor.
She drew in a breath, finally meeting his gaze. “Are you sure you want me to do this?” Pain filled her eyes. “There are other options.”
No. He wanted, needed society’s glorification of him to stop. He nodded.
“How could you do this to me?” She raised her voice loud enough to be heard in the dining room. “How many women, exactly, do you keep, Mr. Buchanan? Five? Ten? And you expect me, an honest girl, to marry you?” Her eyes flashed. A Juliet berating her Romeo. Though he’d seen many performances, done by many famed actresses, none were as convincing as the one Ada enacted now.
“Calm down, darling.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, but she jerked away.
“Calm down? How can I? What lady would be calm when she finds another woman in her fiancé’s room this very evening? How did you get her to the house? Hmm? I suspect you had her sent over in your private railcar? And to think, just today you told me again you loved me.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, real tears.
He watched her. Silent. Though the story was untrue, remorse burned through him. For every laugh. Every moment of teasing banter. Every second he’d let himself look at her and dream of more.
“And then to find the note. ‘Caroline darling, I love you. You’re the only woman in the world for me. I cannot live without you.’ The very same words you said to me when you proposed. How many other women have you said them to, I wonder? It seems I cannot trust you.”
Overhead, stars winked in the sky. The ring on her finger flashed as she pulled it off and threw it at him. It landed on the grass at his feet. “You know what the worst part about it is? I actually believed for just a brief moment that you cared for me. Foolishly, I let myself care for you. No, not care. Love. I loved you.”
The last words weren’t in the script he’d given her. Nor was the long look of mingled sorrow and regret.
By now, everyone sitting at the table would have focused their complete attention on them. Good. It wouldn’t take long before all the Four Hundred would be gossiping about it over their tea tables.
“I hate you now. Far more than I ever loved you. It’s over. Consider our engagement at an end.” She flung the words over her shoulder as she ran across the lawn toward the house. Where she would pack her things, get on a train, and be out of his life for good.
He glanced at the window and the aghast expressions of those around the table. Violet smiled smugly. His mother’s face filled with despair. Only Mamie didn’t look surprised. She did look angry.
He bent down and picked up the ring, still warm from her hand. In the dimness, the expensive jewel gleamed. A mockery.
Well, Mrs. Landseer, that makes two of us.
Because he’d never despised himself more.
Chapter 10
Jenny stood at the door, waiting for her.
Wearing the plainest of her dresses—the only one from Geoffrey she’d taken with her—Ada ran into her friend’s waiting embrace. Let herself burst into tears.
Jenny didn’t say anything, just held her and let her cry. Tears shook her shoulders. Not the delicate whimpers that girls like Violet Tremaine employed, but big, ugly sobs that came from a heart stepped on and broken.
The ride home had been torture. Sitting amid the trappings of the world she no longer belonged to felt like the worst hypocrisy.
Now she was home. She stepped back. Swiped her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. Jenny stared at her, sympathy in her gaze.
“What happened?” Jenny’s tone was matter-of-fact as she led Ada inside. The apartment hadn’t changed since she’d left it. Same faded sofa. Same basket of knitting. Same chipped china teacup on the end table. It was she that had changed. Geoffrey had changed her. She’d managed to stay much the same for almost twenty-one years, only to be irrevocably altered in three short weeks.
“I met the real Geoffrey Buchanan.” She took off her hat and laid it on the table, her limbs leaden.
“Is he a tyrant? Don’t worry, I suspected as much.” Jenny sat on the edge of the sofa. “You were very brave to live through three weeks, but it’s over. You never have to see him again.”
The words nearly brought on another rush of tears, but Ada forced them back and swallowed. “For once in your life, Jenny Adams, you’re actually wrong. Geoffrey is… the kindest man I’ve ever met. He’s smart, fun, and plays terrible croquet. He likes motorcars and doesn’t read big books. He used to play with a train set and named the cars. He’s…” Another sob choked her words.
“You fell for him, didn’t you?” Jenny’s gaze penetrated.
Ada nodded. Oh, she’d more than fallen for him.
“Figures.” Jenny sighed. “When you left, I said to myself, ‘He’ll either be Attila the Hun and she’ll hate every minute of it, or Casanova and she’ll end up with a broken heart.’ I only hoped it wouldn’t be the second one. But don’t worry, now that you’re here in your own world again, where you belong, you’ll soon forget all about him.” She patted Ada’s hand.
Not a chance. She could live without fine things or gourmet food, but now that she’d known love, would she ever be all right without it again?
“I suppose so.”
The door opened. Teddy stepped inside, wearing his raggedy cap and a huge smile on his pale face.
“Teddy!” Ada jumped to her feet and threw her arms around her brother. He’d grown thinner while she’d been away, far too thin for a sixteen-year-old boy. Yet he hugged her tightly, still over a foot taller than she.
He was the reason she’d gone away. She’d go again, even if it meant re-shattering her heart, if only to get him well.
“I’m so glad you’re back.” He grinned and held her at arm’s length. “My, my, quite the lady. Wherever you’ve been, they sure have treated you well. But… you’ve been crying.” He scrutinized her face.
“Only because I’m so happy to be home again.” Not a lie, exactly. She was glad to be home.
“If you’re sure.” He coughed.
Worry wove tight around her heart. Soon, it wouldn’t. Soon
he’d be somewhere safe, getting well.
“I’ll be going then.” Jenny stepped toward the door. “Let me know if you need anything at all, and I’ll come down.” Like crying, or eating a full box of chocolates together, or all the things best friends were for.
No doubt she and Jenny had many hours of both ahead of them.
She resumed her seat on the sofa, while Teddy chatted on about all he had done in her absence, the books he had read and the work he had accomplished. She smiled and laughed in all the right places, yet couldn’t put her heart to it. Eventually, Teddy stood and went to his room.
“I’ll make you some dinner. Maybe some of your favorite blueberry muffins.” She forced another smile.
“That would be nice.” With an understanding grin, he moved down a narrow hall toward his room at the end.
She crossed the peeling wood floor to the kitchen. On the counter, beside a bowl of apples, lay a white envelope. Ada scrawled across it in precise, elongated strokes.
Her heart sped up. She tore the flap with shaking hands.
A check.
Two thousand dollars.
She pressed her hand to her mouth, her head spinning. He had only owed her one.
A single sheet of white writing paper written in the same decisive hand.
Dear Ada,
Right now, you’re probably shaking your head and thinking I’m crazy. I don’t blame you. I am crazy, but I’m also a businessman. And I’ve gotten to know a great deal about you during these past weeks. You wouldn’t be happy in one of my offices. You, with your impetuous passion for life, couldn’t spend all day at a desk, not when your brother needs you. So I’m sending you enough funds to go with him to whatever destination the doctors recommend. I doubt, once you leave, you’ll ever come back to New York City. Truthfully, you’re too much of a country girl.
You played your part well, more than well, and deserve every penny. Use it wisely. If you need or want anything else, don’t hesitate to send a line. Your mail will take number one priority.
I’ve enjoyed getting to know you over these past weeks. You’ve become more than a pretend fiancée, you’ve become a friend. One whom I highly value. Thanks for not being afraid to tell me off and best me at croquet. I had it coming.