by Renee Ryan
“Thank you, Winston, we know the way.”
Taking Fanny’s arm, Jonathon guided her toward the sweeping stairwell that wound along the southern wall of the cavernous foyer.
Fanny paused at the foot of the steps to study a portrait of Mrs. Singletary and her now deceased husband.
Jonathon considered the painting, as well.
“My sister discovered in her time as Mrs. Singletary’s companion that the widow’s marriage was one for the ages,” Fanny murmured.
Jonathon didn’t doubt this. The people in the portrait were the picture of happiness. “I heard they married young.”
A wistful smile played at the corner of Fanny’s lips. “She was barely seventeen, he but nineteen. Sadly, Mr. Singletary died fifteen years later.”
Jonathon did a quick calculation in his head. Mrs. Singletary had been a widow for nearly thirteen years. That was a long time to grow comfortable in her circumstances. Yet was she? She seemed to still believe in fairy-tale endings, as evidenced by her penchant for matchmaking.
“Perhaps,” he mused aloud, “it’s time the widow quit meddling in other people’s lives and made a match for herself.”
Fanny smiled at the suggestion. “Callie recently intimated that Reese’s father is campaigning to win Mrs. Singletary’s heart, but the widow is proving most stubborn on the matter.”
Chuckling softly, Jonathon shook his head at the image of Mrs. Singletary and Reese Bennett Sr. as a couple. “Your sister is an endless source of information.”
Fanny joined in his laughter. “So it would seem, at least where Mrs. Singletary is concerned.”
Appreciating the light mood between them, Jonathon took Fanny’s hand and guided her up the stairs. At the second floor landing, they worked their way toward the blue parlor.
The sound of laughter spilled out into the corridor, a clear indication that nearly all forty invited guests had arrived.
As if by silent agreement, Fanny and Jonathon both halted several feet away from the room. Practicing his role as besotted suitor, he dropped a look of adoration onto his lovely fiancée.
Her answering smile sent his pulse roaring in his ears. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, the gesture loosening several curls from their pins. Unable to resist, he reached up and tamed the stray wisps of hair. At the feel of the silken strands between his fingers, resolve filled him. After tonight, everyone in Mrs. Singletary’s home would know his engagement to Fanny was real, including Fanny herself.
*
Caught by Jonathon’s stare, Fanny couldn’t take a single easy breath. He was looking at her with such open affection her heart tripped over itself. She wanted to bask in the moment, but they were already late to their own party. After several failed attempts, she managed to tear her gaze free and then leaned forward just enough to get a glimpse inside the blue parlor.
None of the occupants had noticed their arrival.
Fanny took a quick inventory of the guests already in attendance. Her eyes landed on one in particular, a lone gentleman who’d evidently come without his wife. Something hot and ugly filled her. “What is he doing here?”
Jonathon followed the direction of her gaze. His shoulders visibly stiffened. “I’d like to know that, myself.”
Judge Greene had not been included on the guest list for tonight. Yet there he was, conversing with—of all people—Fanny’s parents.
The rush of fury had a growl slipping past her tight lips. The one consolation was that her mother looked beyond bored, and her father seemed terribly unimpressed with whatever the judge was saying.
Fanny moved closer to the doorway, wishing she could hear what the odious man was saying to her parents. Looking at that superior smile on his face, she felt rage burn beneath her skin.
Judge Greene might claim he wanted a relationship with Jonathon, but Fanny suspected ulterior motives. She would never forget he’d once considered his own son a mistake.
No child was a mistake, of course, but Jonathon truly believed his birth was an unwanted accident. The foul message had been given too often, with too much strength, when Jonathon had been too young to understand the nature of the lie.
To this day, regardless of proof to the contrary, he believed he wasn’t capable of breaking free of his past, that he would always be…somehow…less.
The drive to prove otherwise had made him a huge success. At what cost?
How did she combat a lifetime of distorted thinking? How did she help Jonathon recognize he was a treasured child of God?
The answer blew through her mind like a stiff, unrelenting wind. Love.
Jonathon’s healing started and ended with love. God’s love reflected in her love for him. Yes, Fanny would lead Jonathon to the truth by loving him.
She would stand by his side, always, and do whatever she could to protect him from his father.
“Despicable, loathsome man,” she growled under her breath. “I should have kicked him in the shin when I had the chance.”
Jonathon laughed at her remark. The sound was strangled, and a bit rusty, but loud enough that several party guests took notice. Fanny ignored every one of them.
“He doesn’t matter.” Jonathon took one of her hands and brought it to his lips. “Thank you for agreeing to be my wife.”
A collective sigh fell over the room, a sure sign they were not only being watched but also overheard.
“There is nowhere else I’d rather be than right here, next to you,” she replied. Happiness flared to life and she let it fill her. “I can’t wait to become your wife.”
He set her hand on his heart, a gesture she was coming to think of as his silent pledge of devotion. “You make me want to be a better man.”
“I like you just the way you are.”
Slowly, he released her hand. “People are staring.”
“Are they?”
“Shall we give them something to talk about?”
She laughed. This was not the way she’d planned to prove their engagement was real, and yet it was the most perfect moment of the night. “What did you have in mind?”
“Nothing too terribly shameless.”
By the look in his eyes, she expected him to do something sweet. He did not disappoint. He kissed her hand again, this time lingering a moment beyond polite.
If only this was real, she thought. The familiar ache clutching at her throat was immediately followed by a jolt of rebellion.
Why can’t it be real? If only for tonight?
Why not revel in the joy of knowing this man would soon be her husband? Decision made, she smiled up at him and let her feelings show in her eyes.
Mrs. Singletary chose that moment to insinuate herself into their private moment. “Our guests of honor have arrived at last.”
The announcement was all it took to send the rest of the room into a flurry of activity. One minute, people were staring at them, watching them enjoy one another. The next, Fanny and Jonathon were surrounded by family and friends.
Everyone talked at once, creating a cacophony of congratulations and thoughtful well-wishes.
Almost immediately, Fanny lost track of Jonathon.
She circled her gaze around the room, found him conversing with Callie, Reese and Reese’s father at a spot near the fireplace.
Jonathon’s father had moved away from Fanny’s parents and now held court on the opposite end of the room with one of Denver’s most prominent couples, Alexander and Polly Ferguson.
Their daughters Penelope and Phoebe completed the group. It seemed fitting somehow that the women who’d started the gossip that had led to tonight’s celebration would be in attendance.
They wore matching dresses in blue, with silver trim. One of them—did it matter which?—turned her big blue eyes toward Fanny and smiled at her as if they were dear, dear friends.
Fanny pointedly looked away.
Jonathon caught her eye and motioned her over. She moved in his direction, but then found herself being pull
ed into a pair of willowy, female arms. “Congratulations, my dear.”
Another tight squeeze and then Laney Dupree stepped back to smile into Fanny’s eyes. “You and Johnny make a wonderful couple.”
Dressed in a pretty bronze-and-gold dress that complemented her mahogany hair, the woman who’d started Charity House looked serene, elegant and incredibly beautiful. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather Johnny marry than you.”
Fanny’s heart fluttered with pure happiness. She liked this woman and knew how important she was to Jonathon. “That’s so very kind of you to say.”
“Not kindness, truth. You make him happy, Fanny. I can’t tell you how much relief that brings me.”
Overcome with too many emotions to sort through at once, Fanny reached up and wiped at her eyes. “He makes me happy, too, more than I can put into words.”
“I’m glad.” Laney hugged her a second time.
The moment she let go, her husband swooped in for his turn. His embrace was briefer than his wife’s, but no less special. Marc Dupree had been more of a father to Jonathon than Judge Greene had. For that reason alone, Fanny adored the man.
Dark-haired, clean-shaven, he wore a red brocade vest and matching tie made of the finest material available, the kind a successful banker might choose for his clothing.
“As my wife so eloquently said, we couldn’t be happier with Johnny’s choice of brides. Welcome to the family, Fanny.”
“Thank you,” she choked out, pleased for Jonathon that these two considered him one of their own.
Though Fanny didn’t know all the particulars, she knew that Marc had been a strong influence in her fiancé’s life.
“I believe you’ll make Johnny a fine wife,” Marc added with a smile. “A very fine wife, indeed.”
“Far better than I deserve.” The familiar voice came from behind her. Before Fanny could look over her shoulder, Jonathon’s arm came around her waist, securing her to his side.
Tucked in close, she swiveled her gaze up to his.
For reasons she didn’t want to explore too deeply, Fanny could do nothing but stare in muted wonder at the expression in his eyes. The warmth looked real, not pretend real, but real.
Her stomach rolled. Her throat burned. Her heart pounded. And still she continued staring up at Jonathon. Even when he turned his attention to Marc and Laney, Fanny continued watching him. She adored his profile.
So strong.
So handsome.
She should not be this aware of her fiancé, not if she wanted to survive their marriage in name only.
Perhaps, she could convince Jonathon to change his mind on the matter.
But how?
The answer came to her again.
Love him.
Could it be that simple? Yes. Her love would conquer his doubts.
All she needed to do was trust God to heal Jonathon’s heart. Enough to give him the courage to take a leap of faith, to trust that he could break free of his past.
If in the process Jonathon chose to make Fanny truly his wife, well, she would know that it all started here, now. With love.
Her love.
Chapter Fourteen
Even as Jonathon carried on a conversation with Marc and Laney—something to do with the renovations under way at Charity House—he was highly attuned to the woman next to him. He kept his arm wrapped around her waist, at one point pulling Fanny closer.
She didn’t protest.
In fact, she settled against him as if she was determined to stay by his side the rest of the night. He felt Fanny’s eyes on him, felt the warmth of her smile wash over him.
He tried not to betray his pleasure. Nonetheless, his lips lifted in secret satisfaction. Tonight was a glimpse into what his future would be like with Fanny as his wife.
Jonathon liked what lay ahead.
The evening was turning out to be surprisingly enjoyable, partly because he hadn’t spoken to Judge Greene once all night, but also because of Fanny herself. He liked her, admired her, valued nearly everything about her.
An absurd notion encroached on his thoughts, one he couldn’t seem to ignore no matter how hard he focused on the conversation with his friends. Jonathon’s entire life, every mistake, every wrong turn, every good and wise decision, had led him to this one woman. Fanny Mitchell was his destiny, his future.
It felt as natural as breathing to pretend he had deep feelings for her. Probably, he realized, because he actually had deep feelings for Fanny.
This is going to be a problem.
He was a man, after all, and Fanny was a beautiful, mesmerizing woman. Soon, they would be married in the eyes of God. How was Jonathon supposed to spend a lifetime with Fanny without making her his wife the way the Lord intended?
You are not a mistake, Fanny had once said to him.
If Jonathon wasn’t a mistake, if the Bible verse from Jeremiah was accurate, and the Lord had known him before he was formed in his mother’s womb, then perhaps he could break free of his past. Perhaps future generations wouldn’t suffer because of who Jonathon was and where he came from.
The thought barely had a chance to slide through his mind when the conversation shifted to the newest arrivals at Charity House, two brothers and a sister.
Not long after that, Fanny’s parents joined their group and the discussion turned once again, this time to the exciting topic of the weather. Seizing the opportunity to move on, Jonathon pulled his fiancée away with the excuse of needing a moment alone with her.
It was true. He wanted to be alone with Fanny, if only for a few minutes.
“Jonathon,” she said, laughing as she broke into a trot to keep up with his long strides. “Where are we going in such a rush?”
“Somewhere private.” He slowed his pace to match hers, then leaned down so only she heard his words. “You have a problem with that?”
“Not at all.” She laughed again. “It sounds quite promising.”
“I like that you think so.”
Her eyes sparkled with delight. “Well, then, take me away. I’m all yours, Mr. Hawkins.”
She was wrong, of course. She would never be completely his, not really, not unless he reconsidered the parameters of their marriage.
Did he dare take the risk?
It was something he needed to ponder seriously before their wedding night.
Hand clasped with Fanny’s, he drew her into the darkened hallway. They’d taken several steps when a masculine voice spoke his name.
Jonathon’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt and a deep unease sliced through him. He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know it was Joshua Greene who spoke his name.
“You cannot avoid me all evening,” the man added.
At the familiar sound of icy disapproval, knots formed at the back of Jonathon’s neck. He was transported to another time, to the night he’d first confronted his father. Jonathon had laid his heart bare in the hope of saving his mother’s life. He’d actually begged for Greene’s help.
Jonathon attempted to release Fanny’s hand. With a little hum of rebellion, she held on tight. Together they faced his father. Jonathon eyed the older man without an ounce of emotion in his heart.
Dressed in a hand-tailored suit, Joshua Greene looked every bit the distinguished Denver citizen most of the world thought him to be. The disguise was so well done that Jonathon nearly believed the pretense himself.
“Must we do this out here?” His posture stiff, his arrogance evident in every inch of his pinched face, Greene looked around them in disapproval. “I dislike lurking in darkened hallways.”
“Then I shall make a habit of lurking in darkened hallways.”
“There’s no need to be snide, son.”
Son. For half his life, Jonathon had waited to hear that word come out of this man’s mouth. He’d spent the other half forging his place in the world on his own terms.
He’d endured loss and suffering, had survived poverty and the humiliation of illegitimac
y. He no longer needed, or wanted, this man’s acknowledgment. Not now. Not ever.
Aware that Fanny still held tightly to his hand, all but vibrating with suppressed emotion, Jonathon kept his response curt. “We already had this conversation in my office last week. We have nothing more to say to one another.”
“Now see, that’s where you’re wrong.” Something calculated flashed in Greene’s eyes. “While I confess I have not handled matters well in the past, you must admit that I have recently shown my willingness to mend our relationship—”
“We have no relationship.”
“An oversight I wish to rectify. I am fully prepared to accept my duty as your father.”
Jonathon leaned forward and addressed the real reason for the judge’s sudden interest in duty. “We both know this is about your run for the Senate. How do you think the truth of what you did to my mother will go over with the voters?”
With a snort and a flick of his wrist, Greene dismissed the question. “They will sympathize with my decisions, once they hear my side of the story.”
“What will they think when they hear mine?”
The question seemed to give the man pause, but only briefly. “Who will they believe?” he asked. “Me, a law-abiding, God-fearing member of the judicial community? Or you, a former pickpocket and by-blow of a prostitute?”
Jonathon stood very still, in full control of every inch of his body, knowing the importance of revealing not one ounce of weakness to this man. “Tell your story to the world. But be prepared for me to tell mine.”
“Very well.” Greene spun around and moved toward the doorway of the blue parlor with quick, clipped strides. “There is no time like the present.”
A bolt of alarm shot through Jonathon. “Do not do this here. Not tonight.” Not in front of Fanny.
Greene ignored the request. “May I have everyone’s attention?” Playing to his audience as if he were a seasoned stage actor, he swept his hands in a wide, dramatic arc. “I have a very important announcement to make.”
Conversations came to a stuttering halt and a roomful of curious stares turned in their direction.