For Her Honor: The Gentrys of Paradise

by Holly Bush

  “He pays no attention to me any longer since our little Emily arrived,” her sister-in-law had said and smiled fondly at him sitting in a chair holding the baby and staring into her wrinkled, scrunched-up face. “Since the moment she was born, it was clear he’d fallen in love with her.”

  Emmaline sighed happily, thinking of the wonderful welcome she’d had and how satisfying it was to know that they looked upon her as less of an oddity than she’d always feared. The clip-clop of the horses’ hooves on the gravel drive alerted her that Paradise was near. She sat up in her seat, feeling a homecoming she couldn’t have predicted. This was the place where she would write, where they would raise their children. Where they would comfort each other and rejoice together.

  Jenny, Mabel, Beatrice, and George were on the walk waiting for them and she hugged them all and shooed them in the house as the snow was really beginning to come down. There was a decorated pine tree in the main room and she could smell something with cinnamon and sugar baking. Jenny took her new coat, as Adam insisted the one she’d had on that night was beyond repair or cleaning. Adam took her hand and kissed her fingers when the staff had been satisfied that she was home and in one piece.

  “Come,” he said. “There’s something I’ve been waiting to show you.”

  “A surprise? I used to like surprises,” she said and looked up at him, grinning.

  “I think you will like this one.” He laced his fingers through hers, pulling her to the staircase, up, and down the long, wide hallway.

  They stopped in front of Olivia’s bedroom door and he turned to look at her. “I have forever memorized the look on your face when you saw the desk in your room of Clair House that first day. As mad and as upset as we’ve both been—”

  “I was foolish,” she interrupted.

  He touched his forehead to hers. “No, you weren’t, and neither was I. As mad and upset as we’d both been I’ve spent quite a bit of time thinking of how I could please you as much as that desk did that day. Now cover your eyes.”

  She chuckled and did as he bid, allowing him to take her elbow and guide her into the room. She dropped her hands, looked around slowly at the fireplace burning brightly, an overstuffed chair with pillows and a quilt across the back, a full wall of empty bookshelves. But most of all, she stared at a massive, gleaming desk situated between the two windows. She turned to him quickly.

  “What? What is this?”

  “This is your room. Your office or hideaway. Whatever you want to call it. Where you can come and block out all the comings and goings of Paradise and write to your heart’s content.” He stepped close to her and cradled her cheek in his hand. “I’ve been dreaming of this day. Do you like it?”

  She nodded. Overcome with all the feelings she’d tamped down, all the desires, all the thoughts that she could just never fit in properly anywhere. She had found her home and found the man that would make it so.

  “I love you, Adam. I love you so much I cannot begin to tell you or write it down or even attempt some poetry. I love you. I never thought I would. I never thought we’d be more than companions, but you are my world. I stood there in that cold warehouse with his hand around my neck, and I didn’t think of my books or my room or my clothes or anything else other than you. I wanted to live to see you again. I had to because I’d never told you I loved you, and that was a regret I couldn’t bear.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. He broke the kiss, staying close enough for her to feel his breath on her face.

  “My God, I love you, Emmaline. I was convinced I’d never love anyone again, but I’ve been granted a reprieve from a life spent in solitude. I love to hear you laugh and watch your eyes light up with wonder. I love that gap between your teeth that makes me want to make love to you at every moment of every day. I’ve been such a fool thinking I was immune to falling in love with such a talented and courageous woman. I am in awe of you.”

  * * *

  ADAM TOOK her hand and led her to their bedroom. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, standing, finally, in the privacy of their room at Paradise. He loved her. He was both joyous and terrified but mostly just wanting his wife. He unbuttoned her blouse, pulling it from her skirt, stopping to kiss her softly. She undid the side buttons of her skirt and then sat down to unhook the buttons on her leather shoes. His back to their bed, he pulled his shirt over his head and yanked off his boots. She stood in front of him in silk drawers and a lace-edged chemise. She looked down at him, below his waist.

  “It must know I’m looking at it, even though it is still bundled up in your pants,” she said, smiled, and put her hand on his chest, pushing him back until he was stretched out across their bed.

  He laughed until she shimmied out of her drawers and pulled the silk underthing over her head, dropping it to the floor. And then his mouth was dry, and his heart was beating loud enough for him to hear it in his ears and he shucked his pants quickly.

  “Come here, wife,” he said softly.

  She lay down on her side, meeting him face-to-face and chest to breast. He ran a hand down her side, down her curves of smooth and silky skin. He leaned forward and kissed her openmouthed, tangling their tongues and feeling the tips of her breasts dragging against his chest. She looked at him, her eyes drowsy and sensual, drawing her foot up his leg until her knee lay on his hip. His cock brushed against her stomach and the dark hair below it.

  “I love you,” he whispered and ran a finger down her stomach, and lower, until he found the pulsing warm and wet center of her. She arched her back and moaned.

  “Adam,” she whispered against his neck. “Oh, Adam.”

  He reached behind him to his nightstand and the sheath that lay there. She took it from his hand and pitched it over her shoulder.

  “Emmaline?”

  “Yes, husband,” she said and smiled dreamily at him.

  “Children will change things for us. For you and your writing.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “I know. I’m going to write all of my life and will have to find a way to have our children and still write my stories or we’ll never have any children, and that is the one thing you asked of me when you proposed. I’m ready. Are you?”

  Without conscious thought, he rolled her onto her back and pulled her knee around his waist, bringing his cock to the spot it sought. He slid into her then, home, he thought, where all his yesterdays had brought him to and where all his tomorrows would begin. She arched under him and tilted her hips toward him. His wife was sensuous and sexy and fit him perfectly. She smiled then, revealing that gap between her teeth, making him slide in and out of her in a rhythm that they both knew.

  He held himself straight on shaking arms looking down at her, at her hair spread across his pillow, at her breasts moving in time with his thrusts, and at her face, at his precious Emmaline.

  “I love you,” she said. “I love . . . oh, yes, yes, Adam . . .” And they both went away together.

  He dropped on to her, their skin sweat-soaked, and rolled onto his back, bringing her with him, her head lying on his chest.

  “Do you realize it’s the middle of the day?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I couldn’t wait until nighttime.”

  “Neither could I.” She stretched out like a cat. She giggled, a silly girlish sound that made him look at her. “Do you remember the day you asked me to marry you?”

  He nodded. “Of course. Your mother fainted.”

  “She did, and Phillip asked if she was dead.” She looked up at him. “I tried to imagine doing this with you that day. It was silly enough in my head that I nearly laughed at you, but of course I didn’t because I was expecting a child and the most handsome, eligible bachelor within a hundred miles was asking me to marry him.”

  “Laughter would have had a sad effect on my poor self that day.” He chuckled.

  “This is nothing like I envisioned. There is nothing awkward between us. It is perfect, husband, and I think it will onl
y get better with time.”

  “And practice,” he said and growled, rolling her over and kissing her again and again.

  EPILOGUE

  1891 Paradise

  * * *

  ELIZABETH GENTRY STOOD in the ballroom at Paradise, watching the dancing, as her family and friends celebrated her grandmother’s move back to Winchester, Virginia. Eleanor McManus Gentry had recently married Ian McKellar, both near seventy years old, and moved back to a small house that her father, Adam Gentry, had built for them on Paradise property near the main house. Grandma called it the dower house as if they were in London and her father a duke or an earl. She watched her dearest friend and cousin, Emily Somerset, walk toward her, smiling.

  “Have you talked to your father? Uncle Jim can be so old-fashioned,” Elizabeth said. “But you look as if you were the cat that stole the cream.”

  “I have,” the eighteen-year-old Emily said. “I am to stay for the whole summer at Aunt Jane’s in New York City with her and her husband! I am so excited!”

  “I am so glad for you, but I’ll miss you so much! What will I do in Winchester for amusement without you?”

  “I’m sure you’ll find something to amuse yourself with,” Emily said and smiled. “Just don’t let it be Francis Bridges.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Hardly. I have no intentions of tying myself to a Winchester man. Anyway, I want to be through two years of school before the World’s Fair in New York.”

  “What’s the matter with Winchester men?” Elizabeth’s sixteen-year old brother, Beau, asked. “Anyway, Father is never going to let you go to the World’s Fair. Is Uncle Matt wearing a woman’s bonnet?”

  Emily and Elizabeth turned to look at the other end of the ballroom and watched cousin Ruth walk to them. She was shaking her head and acting as if her father did not exist as he posed in front of the massive marble fireplace.

  “Why does he have to embarrass me at every turn?” Ruth said as she joined them. “And your fathers encourage him.”

  “They do,” Emily said. “And so does Uncle John. I can imagine the four of them getting into trouble when they were young boys, and I’ll bet my allowance that Uncle Matt was the ringleader.”

  “Stop leering at Mrs. McDonagle, Beau,” Elizabeth said to her brother when she noticed him staring intently over his shoulder.

  He shrugged. “Her gown is very nice. That’s what I was looking at.”

  Emily and Ruth laughed.

  “Her gown is nice?” Elizabeth said. “You mean her gown is cut low in the bosom!”

  Beau turned back to his cousins, his face flushed. “Stop talking about it, sis. Or I’ll tell Father about your wild plans to go to the World’s Fair.”

  “Don’t you dare, you sneak. I’ll get Mother on my side first and then she’ll manage Father when the time comes. Perhaps I’ll tell them about your plans.”

  “Shush!” Beau said. “It will crush father when I eventually tell him, and I really don’t like the idea of disappointing him.”

  “About this degree in medicine?” Edward strolled up and asked.

  “Quiet! You’re worse than my sister, Edward,” Beau said to his cousin and closest friend.

  “Well, someone is going to have to manage the Paradise Stables. If Elizabeth is going on a whim to a World’s Fair and you’re going to medical school, perhaps it will be Eleanor.” Edward nodded across the room. They turned in unison to Elizabeth’s eleven-year-old sister, in a chair in a corner, with her shoes off and her feet under her, reading a book and completely ignoring the party going on all around her.

  “Maybe Edwina?” Emily asked.

  Elizabeth laughed. “It will have to one of them and Edwina is the more likely choice.”

  “Just like Teddy will be taking over our lumber mill and Edward is destined to sell pneumatic tires for horseless carriages since Uncle Jim and Aunt Olivia invested in that company,” Ruth said.

  “There is Grandma and Mr. McKellar,” Edward said. “Come along, Beau. I want to talk to talk to him about Washington.”

  Emily and Elizabeth watched their brothers and cousin Ruth drift to the crowd now gathered where the Gentry matriarch, Eleanor Gentry, arrived looking every bit as dignified, beautiful, and gracious as she always had.

  “What will you do at the World’s Fair?” Emily asked. “You know your parents will protest and insist that you not go or that you must be chaperoned. You will not even be twenty years old when it occurs. I mean, what do you want to see or do or learn that will be important enough to argue with them, or even defy them?”

  Elizabeth turned to her cousin and smiled. “I want to see and do everything possible. And I intend to do just that. I am a Gentry after all.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT GENERATION of Gentrys and Somersets:

  Annie and Matthew Gentry

  Teddy (1870), Ruth (1872), and Mary (1885)

  * * *

  JIM AND OLIVIA SOMERSET

  Emily (1873), Edward (1875), twins Vincent and Benjamin (1879)

  * * *

  ADAM AND EMMALINE Gentry

  Elizabeth (1874), Beauregard (1875), Eleanor (1880), and Edwina (1881)

  * * *

  NETTIE AND JOHN Winders

  Rachel (1869), Albert (1871), and John (1874)

  FROM THE AUTHOR

  Thank you for purchasing For Her Honor, the fourth and final installment in the Gentrys of Paradise series. I hope you enjoyed it. The novella, Into the Evermore, is the first book of the series and tells the story of Eleanor and Beauregard Gentry’s meeting and marriage. The next book, For the Brave, is Matt Gentry’s story and how Annie Campbell saved him from a spring flooded river and his own demons. For This Moment is the third book and chronicles Olivia Gentry’s coming of age as she must choose between a marriage with a man she’ll never love or pining for a family friend she’s loved since she was a young girl.

  The Crawford Family series remains popular and includes, Train Station Bride, Contract to Wed, The Maid’s Quarters, and Her Safe Harbor. This series details the lives of three wealthy Boston-born sisters. Romancing Olive chronicles the life of a sheltered Philadelphia spinster as she heads west to save a niece and nephew. Reconstructing Jackson is the story of Reed Jackson, crippled confederate officer, who moves west to begin again, post-Civil War. Cross the Ocean and Charming the Duke are two British Victorian-era romances.

  If you enjoyed For Her Honor, please post a review or share your thoughts with friends and family. News about my books is available at my website, hollybushbooks.com. I post regularly on my FaceBook page with excerpts from all my books and I welcome you to follow me on Twitter at @hollybushbooks. Thank you again for your purchase!

  The first few pages of Train Station Bride are next! Enjoy!

  TRAIN STATION BRIDE EXCERPT

  Boston 1887

  * * *

  “Really, Julia, do hurry,” Jane Crawford said to her daughter, who was still seated at the ivory lace-covered vanity. “The guests are arriving, and you should be there to greet them.”

  Julia Crawford smiled up at her mother with resignation. This was a battle she didn’t need to win. She would make no argument.

  “I’ll be down shortly, Mother. Jolene and Jennifer are there. Our guests are here to see them, not me. Has Jillian gone down?”

  “She is standing with your father at the door,” her mother replied.

  “I’ll be down in a moment, then. Do go down to the guests. You know how father fusses when you leave him alone,” Julia said as she spun a blond curl around her finger.

  Jane glided to the door and closed it softly. Julia cocked her head, waiting for the soft patter of her mother’s slippers on the steps. Only then did she pull the gold chain from her neck and insert the key that hung from it into a gilded jewel box. With a final glance at the door, she pulled a white envelope from the box and removed and unfolded the letter it held.

  * * *

  Dear Miss Crawford,

  I will be at the t
rain station to meet you on the appointed day. My mother and I look forward to your arrival. I will stay above my shop until the day of our marriage. My mother has graciously allowed you to stay with her during that time. She is pleased to know you do needlepoint. Her arthritic hands no longer allow her to sew, and she is most anxious to have another woman about. I am anxious as well . . .

  * * *

  Julia read to the last line even though she could have recited the letter as if it were the Lord’s Prayer. Very truly, Mr. Jacob Snelling. The day of her departure would arrive sooner than she both hoped and dreaded. Mr. Snelling was a successful shop owner in a small South Dakota town, near fifty years old, with an aging mother. He had never married. His mother had begun to complain of a lack of company, and he admitted he was lonely. Those two forces had led him to place an ad for a wife in the Boston Globe nearly a year ago. To Julia’s shock, she had answered it. Their correspondence had been proper, more formal than she’d expected from a merchant in the Midwest.

  That formality had been a great comfort to her—it was what she was accustomed to. He sounded like a truly nice man. He had great regard for his mother, of that she was certain. His letters were filled with news of the aging Portentia Snelling, and that always calmed Julia when she was most terrified of what she was embarking on. A man so devoted to his own mother would certainly be kind to her. She rose from the vanity seat with a smile on her face. One more formal evening with her family could not deter her.