The American Heiress Brides Collection

by Carter, Lisa; Davis, Mary; Dietze, Susanne

  He stared at her, unwilling to speak.

  She couldn’t take his silence, stood, and rounded the desk, prepared to leave.

  “Um—I—you!”

  She turned slowly to face him. Me? “What does that mean?”

  He took one of her hands in his. “I would get you. That’s all I want. I love you.”

  The air froze in her lungs. Could it be true?

  He continued, unaware of her swirling emotions. “Yes, when I first met you, I thought you were spoiled, but then I got to know you. You treat the servants like human beings, and they love you. The household staff is more like family to you. You’re not willing to sacrifice your principles for the security of money.”

  She stared at him, afraid to speak, but finally found the courage. “You don’t love me. You’re just saying what you know I want to hear.” Tell the silly female what she wants to hear, and she’ll do anything you ask. She didn’t know which hurt worse, his declaration of love when he didn’t mean it, or his not saying it at all.

  “I wish there was something I could say to convince you, but I know that no words would be adequate. They would all sound fabricated. Though words are my profession, I have none but this. I do love you.”

  Victoria ached to believe him.

  “Please read it.” Graham guided her around the desk and into the chair.

  At the very least, she could scan what he’d written. The contract gave everything back to her. House. Money. Business holdings. As she read, an uneasiness coiled around inside her, and a verse echoed in her mind, drowning out the words on the page. “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”

  She allowed her mind to ponder that verse and realized she was no different from all the men who would marry her for her uncle’s money. Wasn’t she considering Graham’s offer partly for her uncle’s inheritance? Otherwise there would be no rush. She would always wonder if Graham believed the earnestness of her declaration. She wanted him to have no doubts in her. And hadn’t God pricked her heart with that verse?

  She stood, came around the desk, and handed him the contract.

  He turned to the last page. “You haven’t signed it.”

  “And I’m not going to. If I sign that and marry you, I would be as dishonorable as Lord Claremont or the others.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Thank you for your offer, but I’m not going to marry for the sake of money.” Though she desperately wanted to marry him, she knew the right thing to do was to not marry him to receive her uncle’s vast wealth.

  “So you plan to go to the final reading unmarried.”

  “Yes.”

  He lowered to one knee. “Will you marry me after the will is all settled?”

  Behind her, someone gasped. She turned to see the household staff bunched together at the bottom of the stairs.

  Mrs. Fuller, barely able to contain her grin, waved her on and nodded for Victoria to accept Graham’s proposal.

  She wanted to say yes. If he truly loved her, she would have everything she ever wanted. But if he didn’t love her, then this could all be a big manipulation to marry her before the will was read, and he would take everything. “Do you truly love me?”

  His smile spread wider. “I do.”

  Gazing down at him kneeling patiently, she believed him. Or at least, her heart believed him. And that would be enough for her. “Why would you want to marry a pauper?” She realized she didn’t truly believe he loved her. Her uncle’s money had always stood in the way of love, or the certainty of love.

  “Because I love you. Is this some sort of test? To see if I really do love you? Because I do.”

  “No. No test.” She wouldn’t do that to him.

  “Then you’ll marry me.”

  “I’ll have nothing.” She never truly believed that anyone would fall in love with her, or at least, she wouldn’t be able to believe it.

  “I don’t care if you have money or not. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I can provide for you.” He spread his hands. “Not at this level, but well enough.”

  “Then you really do love me.”

  He nodded.

  “Yes, I’ll marry you, but not to have my uncle’s money, but because I love you, too.”

  He rose, cupped her face in his hands, and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips.

  Her insides tingled with joy and love for this man. It would be a fine Christmas after all.

  The servants applauded.

  Chapter 10

  Victoria shifted in the chair in the lawyer’s office. The one she’d sat in three months ago. She couldn’t believe she had to endure more of her uncle’s criticism on Christmas Eve. She glanced over at Graham seated next to her.

  From the folder in front of him, Mr. Frye removed two envelopes, one sealed with red wax, the other with deep indigo. “Since you didn’t announce happy news the moment you walked in, shall I assume you are not married?”

  She squared her shoulders. “Graham—Mr. Welling—I mean, your grandson and I are going to get married.” A giddiness bubbled inside when she spoke the words.

  Mr. Frye removed his spectacles. “Going to? But you are not now married?”

  She shook her head.

  Graham leaned forward in his chair. “We are waiting until after Mr. Helmsworthy’s will is all settled.” He had never once asked her nor pressured her to marry before.

  “You realize that means you will only get a small stipend? Why didn’t you marry yesterday?”

  It had seemed wrong to her. “I didn’t want to marry for money.” She had gone back and forth on whether or not to marry Graham before the reading but only ever felt a peace when she landed on the side of not marrying in haste to receive the money. A peace that passed all understanding. She was doing the right thing. What God would want her to do. Trusting Him.

  Graham slipped his hand around hers.

  And how would Graham feel if she insisted on inheriting? He might feel she didn’t think him capable of providing for her.

  Mr. Frye cleaned the lenses of his glasses with his handkerchief. “So you willingly chose to not receive your uncle’s money and holdings?”

  She nodded.

  The elderly solicitor shook his head, replaced his spectacles, squinted at the writing on the outside of each envelope, and set the blue one aside. He held up the other. “‘To be read in the event my niece does not marry in the specified time. Signed Joseph Helmsworthy.’” He held it up for Victoria to inspect. “As you can see, the seal has not been broken.”

  She gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

  Mr. Frye slid a letter opener under the flap and broke the seal with a soft tearing sound. He pulled out several sheets of paper and unfolded them. “‘My Dearest Victoria—’”

  Victoria leaned forward as much as her corset would allow. “Wait a minute. I thought you said this letter was written by my uncle?”

  The old barrister gave a knowing smile. “It is. The letter should explain everything. Shall I continue?”

  My Dearest Victoria? Her uncle had always referred to her as “the girl” when he spoke of her to others.

  Graham touched her arm. “Let’s see what he has to say.”

  She straightened. “Did you know about these letters?”

  Graham shook his head.

  Mr. Frye adjusted his position in his chair. “I assure you that Mr. Wellington had no knowledge of this. Only your uncle was privy to the contents. I do not even know what it holds. Joseph handed both sealed letters to me with instructions to read whichever one applied. Married or not married. If you are prepared, I will continue.”

  She doubted she would ever be prepared. It made no difference what was in the letter. “Proceed.” But with the opening endearment, she would have a hard time believing the letter was from her uncle. Maybe Mr. Frye had written it on his behalf. Or her uncle had been coerced.

  The old barrister adjusted
his spectacles and focused his gaze back to the pages. “‘My Dearest Victoria, If you are hearing this letter read, then you have given up your inheritance for love or the chance for love sometime in the future. I cannot tell you how pleased I am that this is the letter being read.’”

  Why didn’t he just disinherit her from the start if he hadn’t wanted her to have his money? Why play this game?

  As though reading her mind, Graham spoke up. “Is this really necessary? We all know what’s coming.”

  “Whether good or bad, the execution of the will cannot be complete until after the reading.”

  Graham turned to her with a questioning expression.

  She nodded. “I’ll be fine. I want to get this over with.” So she could get on with her life with Graham.

  Mr. Frye continued. “‘I wish I had figured out what was most important and chosen as you and my brother did, but I was an ambitious young man who could not see clearly. I chose money over the lady I loved. I believed I could earn my fortune and then win my love back. But she no longer wanted or loved me, and married a penniless man. I could see she was happy. I have regretted my decision every day of my life. You will not be living with those regrets the rest of your life.’”

  How sad. Her uncle had loved but not known the worth of that love. No wonder he was so closed and distant.

  “‘You are a better person than I. A stronger person.’”

  She couldn’t believe her uncle was praising her.

  “‘When you first came to live in my house, I was put out. You were as foreign to me as a mermaid from the deep. I would sit and listen to your lilting voice and laughter ringing through the rooms and down the halls. I would stand at the window and watch you play in the yard and garden, not knowing how to approach you. I was afraid if I got too close, you would disappear.’”

  She had never known. What she had thought was cold and aloof behavior was really fear?

  “‘I hope you find a man who will love you and treat you like a princess.’”

  She glanced at Graham. She had.

  “‘Since you have again not disappointed me, I have something to add to your monthly stipend.’” Mr. Frye quit reading aloud, but his eyes still moved back and forth as though reading.

  “What is it?” Victoria asked.

  Mr. Frye removed his spectacles and looked up. “He’s left you everything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He replaced his glasses. “‘You chose love over money, so you shall have both. I give you the money, now go find love.’”

  He turned to the next page. “‘Now for the business of business. Though Collin Nelson has been an exemplary manager over all my holdings, he has a low opinion of women’s ability to manage business affairs. I have arranged for a generous departing bonus for him, and today he will be given a one-month notice to leave. I have no doubt you will be able to manage things once you learn about my—your different businesses. Run them, sell them, do what you like with them. The overseers of my businesses are all good, trustworthy men. I hope you choose to keep them on.’”

  Victoria couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “‘As I do not wish for you to trouble yourself with the day-to-day business affairs, I have a list of suggested men to step into Mr. Nelson’s place as overall manager. One possibility is Mr. Max Hodges, who oversees all of my shipping endeavors, a strong choice to promote to manager over all your holdings. Another could be Mr. Henry Forthright, who looks after my steel and gold mine holdings. He would do a fine job for you as well. Or perhaps, Mr. Graham Wellington—’”

  Graham shot to his feet. “Me?”

  Victoria gazed up at him.

  He stared at her. “I had no knowledge of this. I am capable of providing for a wife. For you. I love you.”

  She knew all of that. Mr. Frye had said neither of them knew the contents of the letter. She took his hand. “I know. Please sit.”

  He remained standing.

  “Mr. Helmsworthy and I spoke at length about you. I had no idea all his inquiries were for this purpose. May I continue?”

  “Pardon my outburst.” Graham lowered himself back into the chair.

  “‘Mr. Graham Wellington, Mr. Frye’s grandson, is younger than the other two candidates, and you might be more comfortable with someone closer to your age. Mr. Frye vouches for his trustworthiness.’” The old attorney folded the letter and shifted a stack of papers in front of him. “I just need you to sign a few documents.”

  Victoria sat silent for a long moment while both men stared, waiting for her to say something. She couldn’t believe this turn of events. She had been prepared to receive only the small stipend and had been content with that. She didn’t know if she wanted all that wealth and responsibility. “What if I don’t sign?”

  Mr. Frye sputtered before speaking. “Don’t sign? Why ever not?”

  Shifting in his chair, Graham faced her. “Then the courts will decide who and where your uncle’s assets will go. Don’t worry. I will provide for you either way, but I don’t want you to have to sacrifice.”

  He didn’t seem concerned at all about not having her uncle’s money. He respected her and was leaving the decision up to her.

  Mr. Frye sputtered again. “You entered my office a pauper. You don’t have to leave that way.”

  Victoria had spent the past three months accepting that she wouldn’t receive a penny over the stipend the will had allotted, preparing herself for that inevitability.

  True, her uncle had never been openly affectionate toward her, but neither had he been cruel. He had bought her expensive things when she wanted them, like pretty dresses, a string of pearls, and the automobiles. Maybe those gifts had been the only way he knew to express his affection for her.

  Her uncle had loved her after all. She wished she had realized as much while he was still alive. Love came in all manner of varieties. Her uncle’s was expressed with patience, freedom to make her own choices, and the showering of gifts. She could see where he had been generous with his money.

  She picked up the pen and hesitated. But what about God? What did He want her to do? She sensed a nod of approval. She gazed at Graham. He loved her with or without her uncle’s money. A sudden glee bubbled up inside her. She was loved by the man she was in love with and wealthy. The good she could do with the money was unimaginable. With a confident smile, she signed the required documents. “Shall we go find a minister?”

  Graham wore a cautious expression. “I don’t have the contract giving you control of all your uncle’s—your assets.”

  “It’s not necessary.” With love on her side, she felt safe. “We’ll manage everything together.”

  Graham wrapped her in his arms and kissed her soundly.

  A merry Christmas after all!

  Mary Davis is an award-winning author of over a dozen novels in both historical and contemporary themes, four novellas, two compilations, and three short stories, as well as being included in various collections. She is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and is active in two critique groups.

  Mary lives in the Colorado Rocky Mountains with her husband of over thirty years and two cats. She has three adult children and one grandchild. She enjoys playing board and card games, rain, and cats. She would enjoy gardening if she didn’t have a black thumb. Her hobbies include quilting, porcelain doll making, sewing, crafts, crocheting, and knitting.

  In for a Penney

  by Susanne Dietze

  Dedication

  For my patient, encouraging, hilarious family. I am blessed to love and be loved by you. With loving thanks to Anita Mae Draper, Debra E. Marvin, and Gina Welborn for their friendship and gracious help when I wrote this story.

  Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? and not one of them shall fall on the ground without your Father …. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows.

  MATTHEW 10:29, 31 ASV

  In for a penny, in for a pound.

  ENGL
ISH PROVERB

  Chapter 1

  Philadelphia

  September, 1894

  Did you see it, Penny? You’re famous.” Fair-haired Alma Shore hurried forward, grinning and waving a crisp sheet of newsprint like a fan.

  Penelope Beale’s steps faltered. She’d asked Alma, her dearest friend, to meet her at the Pennsylvania Museum and School of Industrial Art so she might escape that sheet of newspaper—or rather, what it reported.

  Apparently, escape was impossible. “Mother was pleased.” An understatement if ever Penny had uttered one.

  “Now your mama can keep one, and you can paste this one in a memory book.” Alma held out the sheet, so Penny tucked it into her beaded bag.

  The thought of pasting the tidbit in a memory book made Penny’s jaw clench. Nevertheless, Alma’s intentions were kind, and it wasn’t Alma’s fault Penny was in this mess.

  Penny took Alma’s arm as raindrops began pattering in slow percussion against their picture hats. “You’re thoughtful, dear. Thank you.”

  Alma squeezed Penny closer as they hurried inside the museum. “I confess to all manner of shock that you wished to leave the house today, what with tonight’s huge event.”

  Huge? Hardly. But Penny understood Alma’s meaning. While the guest list was tiny compared to most of Mother’s parties, the evening was colossal in terms of its impact on Penny’s future.

  But she’d rather not think of her duty. Not while she still had a few precious hours of freedom left. “I need distraction today. I spent the morning at the Home for Friendless Girls, but I wanted to spend time with you, too.”

  Distraction wasn’t on Mother’s mind, however, when she allowed Penny out of the house today. She’d insisted that it might be of benefit for Penny to be spied around town after this morning’s mention in the society pages. That way, it would not appear as if Penny languished at home over a gentleman.