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Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance)

Page 83

by Lisa Andersen


  Finally one evening he came forth with a bauble brighter and shinier than the rest; one that he presented to her on bended knee as he asked, “Dear Elena, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Elena’s smile shone as bright as the diamond on her finger as she let loose with something of a heated sigh.

  “Thought you’d never ask!” she exclaimed, adding with a playful wink, “Properly, that is.”

  *****

  “I swear it. Sometimes I think if I see one more golden rose…”

  Despite mustering this rather uncharitable thought, Elena nonetheless beamed bright at the admittedly dazzling vision ofan altar of golden roses; one that would mark the site of her wedding that day—a long awaited occasion that she approached with no small degree of trepidation.

  Of a certainty she was the picture of serenity in her chosen gown—a sleek cream colored satin effort with a neckline formed from cascading ruffles, bows and white lace lining the shoulders, and a body shaping lace up bodice topped with a quaint pearl pink ribbon.

  Her mind, by contrast, seemed a muddled conglomeration of doubt and uncertainty—intermingled with just a touch of genuine heartbreak.

  “I’ve already walked this aisle, to join with another man,” she reasoned, shaking her head from side to side. “Should I be making the trip twice? And to someone I met through a newspaper advertisement?”

  Just then she came to stand stock still before the altar; turning at once to face her groom.

  Justin himself proved something of a visionin all of his wedding finery—a stylish but masculine ensemble that included a brass buttoned black wool frock coat with a blue brocade vest and white cotton shirt underneath. A pair of sharp black wool trousers and a matching, diamond studded cravat completed the ensemble, which adorned and accentuated every muscle of his tall, hard planed body.

  Yet even the splendor of his form proved no match for the radiance of his azure eyes; sparkling blue gems that shone with love for the woman before him.

  The moment that the couple joined hands between them, Elena knew without a doubt that she had made the right choice; that, as much she always would love her dear departed Blake, that the man before her truly stood as the divine lover of her heart and soul.

  And as joyful and light as her heart had felt on the morn of her first wedding, the joy that suffused her being at this very moment made one thing perfectly clear: a second hand rose by any other name still smelled just as sweet.

  A Bay for the Bride (by Mary Miller)

  Joyce sat up in bed, stretching her arms up toward the ceiling and letting out a long breath. It was supposed to be one of the most beautiful days of the year, and she was excited about it. She and her aunt had a picnic on Glade Hill planned for the afternoon. She couldn’t wait. She hadn’t been able to sit down with her aunt Grace and have a talk for several weeks.

  She slipped out of the bed and pushed her feet into her slippers. She pulled on her robe and stepped over to her desk to get her brush and tooth cloth. Her mother had told her when she was a child that if she brushed her hair every morning and night and rubbed her teeth with a small cloth, they would stay cleaner and look healthier. She had practiced those two traditions every day since she was ten years old when she and her family migrated from Ireland.

  She pulled back her thick red hair after brushing it thoroughly with 100 strokes and tied it behind her head in a large bun. She pulled on her bonnet over it, then pulled it off and decided she was going without today. She didn’t have to wear a bonnet if she didn’t want to.

  She put on her clothes and left the room, leaving the house with fifteen minutes to walk to the sewing shop in town where she worked. It wasn’t far from her room in the boarding house. On the way out, she picked up a ham biscuit from the kitchen. Each morning, one of the other tenants fixed ham biscuits and left them warm for anyone who wanted one. She delighted in them since they were the only meat she got until dinnertime.

  Today would be different. Her aunt was sure to have ham or turkey biscuits, with some corn and cabbage on the side and possibly a few other tasty delights. Her aunt, Grace, made the best sugar cookies she’d ever eaten. They were another thing she was looking forward to today.

  Joyce smiled as she walked down the side of the street. There didn’t appear to be many people on the road this morning. No horses, buggies, carriages, or wagons passed her on her way. She thought that was a bit strange but after a moment forgot about it.

  Her coworkers were already in the shop, sitting around in comfortable cushioned chairs with their sewing work on their laps and their sewing baskets set either at their feet or to the side.

  “Good morning, Joyce!” Several of them called out a greeting to her, and she smiled at them.

  “Good morning, ladies.”

  “Did you have a good sleep last night?” One of them, Ann-Margaret, asked curiously. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “I didn’t. I heard a dog howling in the middle of the night, and it woke me up. I couldn’t get back to sleep! Can you imagine? Letting your dog howl all night long when other people are trying to sleep.”

  Joyce went to a shelf and took down her sewing basket. “Did you go out and say something about it to your neighbor?” She asked as she strolled back to her seat.

  “I wanted to, let me tell you that.” Ann-Margaret was shaking her head. “But I don’t like to wander about at night by myself. You don’t know who might be lurking in the shadows.”

  “Yes, because there are so many wild dog or Indian attacks here, right, Ann-Margaret?” One of her other coworkers winked at her. The rest of them laughed. Ann-Margaret gave her friend a smile.

  “It’s dangerous whether you like to believe it or not, Jane. I could have been attacked by a wild animal. You just never know!”

  “Or a mosquito could have bitten you!” Jane said, continuing to tease her. “How tragic! How awful!”

  They all laughed, and Ann-Margaret joined in. “Oh, it may be silly to you, Janie. But I just don’t like it. I could even trip or walk into a hole and break my ankle.”

  “Well then you would be useless as a horse with a broken leg, wouldn’t you?”

  “All right now.” They heard the sound of their boss, Jack Carrigan, come from the back room. He stepped out and smiled at them all. “You can’t get work done if you are sitting around teasing Ann-Margaret about her fears.”

  The women greeted their boss jovially.

  “Good morning, Jack.” Joyce nodded at him. “I’m not late today, am I?”

  He shook his head, moving into the room to survey the work his employees were doing. He was a large, round man with a pleasant demeanor and a quick hand to help anyone who needed it. Like his employees, the woman who worked for him were treated with a great deal of respect and encouragement. He paid them a decent salary and never tried to withhold any money from them. They did good work, and he liked to reward them for their efforts. “Not at all, Joyce. You just didn’t get here early!”

  He grinned at her and she returned his smile, sitting to begin her work. She enjoyed the job and had been saving her money for some time now to do some traveling. She wanted to get out of the small Virginia town that had become her home after coming over from Ireland to New York. Her mother had detested New York and moved them South as soon as she could.

  The morning went by quickly, as Joyce had hoped it would. She was pulling on a light shawl and heading out the door before she knew it.

  Glade Hill was on the other side of the street and down just a bit from the sewing shop. She stopped on the way and took an apple from a cart, flipping the vendor a coin as she went. He snatched it from the air and grinned at her.

  “Thank you, Joyce!” He called out, holding the coin up in the air. She nodded at him and took a big bite from the apple.

  When she reac
hed Glade Hill, she pulled open a small white iron gate that surrounded the bottom of the hill and went through. A stone path would lead a winding way up the hill, and she set about going up it, looking to the left and right to see where her aunt had decided to sit. She soon spotted her and left the path to walk over the grass to the blanket Grace had spread out for them to sit on.

  “Good day, Joyce!” Grace stood up and approached, her arms spread out for a hug. They met, and Joyce hugged her mother tightly.

  “Hello, Auntie!” She greeted her.

  “How has your day been at the sewing shop?” They took the few steps back to the blanket and sat down. Joyce made herself comfortable and happily took a small bottle of Coca-Cola out of her aunt’s basket.

  “It’s been fine. We’ve gotten a lot of work done. But I’ve been waiting for this picnic, auntie. I’m so glad to be able to see you and talk to you again. I’m glad you’ve come back from visiting.”

  Grace nodded. “I must do what I can for our Irish old-timers, Joyce. Visiting them seems to bring them great joy, so I keep doing it.”

  “Yes, I know, Grace. You have a very strong sense of loyalty.”

  Grace smiled wide. “It is an Irish thing. You possess that quality, too. You just have different things you are loyal to.”

  Joyce happily took a turkey and cheese roll from her aunt. “I do? Such as?”

  “You are very loyal to your job. When was the last day you didn’t go to work?”

  Joyce gave her a look. “If I don’t work, I don’t make any money. How will I save and get ahead then?”

  “You are loyal to yourself as well.” Grace chuckled. “You want what you want, and you’re going to get it, are you not?”

  “That is my plan. I must get out of this little town.”

  “You will miss me?”

  “I will.” She leaned forward and put her hand on her mother’s arm. “You are going to be the person I miss the most, auntie. You know that.”

  “Your brothers and sister have missed you in the last month or two. You should go visit them.”

  Joyce laughed. “Before I leave this place, I will visit them. Until then, they know where I am! And since they have their families now, I would only be intruding if I just went over there. Robert would think I am only there for a meal!”

  The women laughed softly.

  “I do have something I wanted to show you and discuss with you, Joyce. Something you might want to consider as you think about traveling and leaving here.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes.” Grace reached back into her basket and pulled out the newspaper from a larger town some distance from them. It was one of the towns she had visited where they had relatives. They had relatives all over town and all over the state of Virginia, who had migrated down from New York to escape the blistering cold of winter and the crunch as people from around the world flooded into the main streets there.

  Grace looked through the paper, snapping it open and folding it so that a particular page was displayed. “Look at what this says here.” She pointed to a small ad in the middle of the page.

  Joyce read through it. “Auntie, are you suggesting I travel to the West to become this man’s bride? Why would I want to do that?”

  “There are several good reasons why this would be for you, Joyce. First, I have been praying for a sign, something that will help relieve you from the burden of being in a place you don’t want to be in.”

  “Auntie, I’m perfectly content…”

  “Let me finish, my girl. Second, this man is wealthy. He will take good care of you, and you won’t have to work in a sewing shop for the next ten years, saving money to be able to go somewhere else where you will have to work again. And third, you have a chance to have a family of your own. I know you want that, do you not?”

  “I do. You know I would like to have a family soon. I’m almost 22, and I need to start my life. I know a lot of girls my age who have been married for several years. I don’t want to be a spinster.”

  Grace laughed and shook her head. “A beautiful woman like you does not have to worry about that, Joyce.”

  Joyce snorted. “How can you say that, Grace? I have not had any marriage proposals before. Not in my life!”

  Grace blew a quick breath through her lips as if to dismiss the words Joyce had just said. “The only reason you haven’t been receiving any is because you have three protective older brothers, and there are too many relatives here. You have almost a dozen cousins here, and that’s almost all of the population your age that aren’t already married.”

  Joyce nodded. “That is a good point, Grace.”

  “At least, consider this proposal. You can have so much more, so much freedom being married to an older, rich man.”

  “It doesn’t say he’s older.”

  “Do you expect him to have wealth at your age?”

  Joyce contemplated that thought. “I suppose not. But what if he’s very old?”

  “You won’t know unless you write to him and find out.” Grace tilted her head and gazed at her niece. “Will you consider it? Will I be sending you on a train heading West any time soon?”

  Joyce was quiet, thinking about the possibilities in the West. Things would be so very different. The climate, the population, even the way people talked and dressed. It would be quite a change. A completely different and new life.

  “I will.” She nodded and her aunt grabbed her in a tight hug.

  “I’m so pleased! I will come over after you are home from work and help you write back to him if you like.”

  Joyce smiled. Another chance to see her mother so soon was always welcome. She wasn’t going to be seeing her at all in her future.

  *****

  The train ride was long and boring for Joyce. She readily remembered the trains she had been on as a youth as they traveled through America going South. She knitted for an hour or so but was frustrated with it quickly. It reminded her of the sewing she had done for so long and didn’t want to do much of anymore. She had enough scarfs and shawls. Everything she’d owned fit into three large luggage trunks.

  Either way, she didn’t want to finish knitting. She was feeling nervous and anxious. She had received several letters from Tom Huffman, the wealthy man who was interested in calling for a bride. He sounded intelligent and kind. He explained that his money came from his ancestry, that he was originally from London and had bought a lot of land in Colorado. It was near a Cheyenne Indian reservation.

  He hadn’t said very much about himself. He had said that he was a widower but hadn’t gone into too much detail about that. Joyce wondered why. When he’d written, he’d given her a vague sketch of himself and his life in Colorado.

  It left her wondering what kind of life she was going to have. Was she going to be cleaning a big house and treated like another housekeeper? Would she fall in love immediately and him with her and live happily ever after?

  She shook her head. The future was an incomplete picture. It left her feeling shaky and regretful. Change was needed; she decided firmly. She wasn’t going to give in to negative thoughts. She’d prayed for change, been lead to change and was thanking God for the blessings.

  She took the opportunity to get a sandwich and a Coke from the dining car. Tom had been generous enough to pay for her ticket, which she found out later was typical in a situation like this, and even though she had told him, she’d been saving up and could afford it. He was insistent, in fact, that she keep her money for herself or buy something that she wanted before leaving Virginia.

  She’d decided to keep her money. She wasn’t sure what her future would be and would feel more secure if she had something to fall back on in an emergency.

  By the time the train pulled into the station, she was exhausted with the ride. Sitting in the car on a cushioned ben
ch had left her with aching bones. She was glad to stretch out. When she stepped down from the train on the platform, she walked directly into the building and to the clerk.

  “I have several bags that were not in the car with me.”

  “They will be dropped off here in a short time.” The clerk nodded, taking a stub ticket from her. “If you’d care to wait over there, we will have them brought in.”

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  She turned and looked around. She didn’t see anyone who looked notable in the room. She had to assume that a man as wealthy as Tom would be constantly surrounded by other people, either his friends or people who wished they were his friends. There didn’t appear to be much wealth in this area of Colorado. There were more men than women; she had noticed that. But otherwise, it looked very similar to the place she’d just left. She moved to a bench and sat down, setting her sewing bag on the floor beside her. She turned to gaze at the huge fireplace set into the wall to her right. She admired the stone carvings that surrounded it and imagined it was quite beautiful when a fire was blazing below it.

  A hand on her arm caught her by surprise, and she turned with an, “oh!” She was staring at a young woman with big brown eyes, long eyelashes and brown curls surrounding her slender face. The woman smiled.

  “I am so sorry to have frightened you!” The woman said. Joyce stood up. “Are you Joyce Driscoll?”

  Joyce nodded. “I am.”

  “Oh good!” She looked relieved. “This is Gary Huffman, and I am Anne Huffman. Tom is Gary’s brother. We are here to pick you up.”

  “Oh!” Joyce smiled. “Hello! It’s good to meet you.” Anne surprised her again by pulling her into a quick but warm hug.

  “We are glad to have you here!” She turned to her husband again, and Gary held out his hand. Joyce shook it but noticed that Gary looked unhappy or anxious. She had already been worried on the train for the last six hours. His demeanor did nothing to change her feelings. She looked back at Anne.

 

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