by Amy Sandas
Also by Amy Sandas
Fallen Ladies
Luck Is No Lady
The Untouchable Earl
Lord of Lies
Runaway Brides
The Gunslinger’s Vow
Christmas in a Cowboy’s Arms anthology
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Books. Change. Lives.
Copyright © 2019 by Amy Sandas
Cover and internal design © 2019 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover art by Gregg Gulbronson
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks, Inc., is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.
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Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Excerpt from The Gunslinger’s Vow
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Acknowledgments
Back Cover
This one is for Halcyon, my wild child. Joyful, silly, full of adventure and courage. Thank you for always reminding me to laugh, dance, and take time for cuddling. Love you.
Chapter One
Emmanuel Church
Boston, Massachusetts
June 14, 1882
Courtney Adams stood perfectly still in front of the full-length, gilded mirror while her mother adjusted the pearls around her neck. The other attendants had already gone to find their places, so it was just the two of them in the private preparation room.
“Mother…”
Beverly Adams shifted her attention from the pearls to the lace detail on Courtney’s bodice.
“Mother…” Courtney tried again, just a bit louder this time but certainly not loud enough to bring her mother’s censure. A lady had to control her tongue and speak in modulated tones at all times. Even if she was feeling intense emotions.
Especially if she was feeling intense emotions.
She knew she was supposed to smile and accept whatever came next, but she simply couldn’t contain the questions and concerns buzzing through her anymore. And she was running out of time.
“Mother, how did you know Father was the man you should marry?”
Mrs. Adams glanced up, allowing a frown to tug only briefly at her elegant brows before she smoothed her expression back into one of placid dignity. “What a ridiculous question, Courtney,” she replied, then stepped around behind her daughter to smooth out a few wrinkles that threatened to ruin the elegant fall of Courtney’s gown.
Courtney should have expected the response, but she didn’t think it was a ridiculous question at all. Surely, it was natural for a bride to have a few misgivings on her wedding day.
She watched her mother’s movements in the mirror. Mrs. Adams was not an emotionally demonstrative person, but Courtney hoped that maybe on this day—the day of her wedding—her mother might have some words of wisdom or encouragement.
But she had now focused her attention on Courtney’s hair with a fleeting press of her narrow mouth. It was the only indication of her displeasure and could be easily missed by the casual observer. But Courtney had had twenty-one years to become familiar with the expression, and she had no need to question the cause.
Courtney’s pure white gown showed off her lively green gaze and red hair to dramatic effect. Beverly Adams valued subtlety in all things. Unfortunately, subtlety was not something Courtney had ever been able to accomplish—not in her appearance or in her often-exuberant personality.
She tried again. “How can I be sure I will be happy with Geoffrey?”
For a moment, it seemed her mother was going to ignore the question, but then she stopped fussing with Courtney’s appearance and lifted her hazel gaze to the mirror.
“You could not hope for a better match than Geoffrey Cabot. He is young and charming. He is also dedicated to charitable work and is active as a community leader. Your union has been arranged since your childhood and will strengthen bonds and increase the fortunes of both of our families.”
Courtney was well aware of all those things. “But what about happiness? What about passion?” she asked, finally giving voice to her true concerns.
“Such things have no place in this discussion or any other,” Mrs. Adams replied in a tone that was both dismissive and coldly admonishing. “Respect and consideration are the true hallmarks of a successful marriage.”
The words were familiar to Courtney. Her mother had been preaching such maxims since she’d come of age. Not long ago, she would have been comforted by the reminder. Having been betrothed to Geoffrey nearly all her life, she knew her future husband to be a compassionate man who never failed to offer a lovely compliment or two at every encounter.
Not many young women were lucky enough to marry a man they could honestly call a friend.
So why did she feel such a heavy press of dread in her chest? Why did she feel as though she
were being forced down a path she no longer wanted to travel?
“Alexandra found passion in her marriage, and I have never known her to be happier.”
“Do not mention her name to me.” Her mother’s voice was low and frigid. “Alexandra Brighton disgraced her family and ruined her good name when she ran off. You will not use her as an example for any behavior, do you hear me?”
There were so many things Courtney wanted to say. Alexandra was one of her very best friends, and just last summer, she’d run away from a perfectly acceptable fiancé in favor of adventure and romance with a bounty hunter in Montana. Courtney thought what Alexandra had done was the bravest thing she’d ever heard of. But her mother would never think so.
This had been a pointless endeavor. Trying to talk to Beverly Adams about anything beyond familial obligation would never get her daughter the reassurances she so desperately needed.
Courtney shifted her gaze back to her own reflection. “Of course, Mother,” she replied.
“Good. Now, no more nonsense.”
After a thorough sweeping glance, her mother gave a brief nod and provided a final bit of instruction. “Keep to a sedate pace and maintain your posture. Eyes forward. No smiling.”
As motherly words of support went, they left much to be desired. But Courtney should have known better than to expect more.
“Yes, Mother.”
Her mother turned and walked away. With a near-silent click of the door, Courtney was left alone for the first time that day.
In less than twenty minutes, she would be walking down the long aisle of her family’s church toward a man she had been betrothed to since she was two and he a young boy of eight.
There might not be a grand love between them, but such emotions rarely existed in the unions among their social set.
Expecting any more—wishing for more—was not done.
Except…that’s exactly what Courtney had been doing.
At their last encounter, she’d even gathered the courage to ask Geoffrey why he’d never tried to kiss her.
He’d laughed. Not a great guffaw, which would have been far beneath his dignity, but a soft chuckle, as though her inquiry was all part of some private joke they shared between them. He had patted her hand and given her a gentle look as he said, “Such demonstrations are not for us, are they?”
She had smiled back, but his words had haunted her ever since.
What did he mean, such things were not for them? She had asked for a kiss. Was that so odd a thing for a young woman to request of her future husband?
She had spent her whole life preparing for this day, feeling nothing but gratitude for being fortunate enough to have such a young, handsome, and charming gentleman as her fiancé. Yet now that the day had come—she was finally marrying Geoffrey and starting on a new phase of her life—she felt…dissatisfied.
A knock on the door startled her from her troublesome musings. Courtney swept across the room in a rustle of silk and satin, grateful for the distraction.
A young errand boy stood outside.
“Hello,” Courtney said, greeting him with a smile. “May I help you?”
“I, ah…” the boy stammered, his eyes wide as he blushed a deep red.
He was quite young, and Courtney suspected he was not accustomed to whatever task he’d been given. She noticed that he clutched two letters, one in each hand. She gave a nod of encouragement. “Are you here to deliver a note?”
“What? Oh, yes, miss.” The boy looked at the two letters, his gaze flying from one to the other and back again. Then he thrust one of them forward. “Here. This one is for you. I was instructed to wait until you were alone.”
Courtney smiled again as she took the letter he extended. Before she could offer him a token in thanks, he sped away.
The handwriting on the sealed note was Geoffrey’s. It had been addressed simply to My Beloved.
A spark of warmth flickered inside her. He had never called her that before. That he would be so thoughtful as to send her a note in the last moments before they were to wed made Courtney feel instantly guilty for the seeds of dissatisfaction she had allowed to grow.
See, she thought as she tore open the seal. He loves you after all.
She didn’t dare sit down to read the message. Not after her mother had smoothed every detail of her gown into perfection. So she took to strolling sedately back and forth across the room as she eagerly read Geoffrey’s last words to her before their wedding.
My Dearest Beloved, he began, and Courtney couldn’t contain the warm flush of pleasure at the effusive greeting. Perhaps he had just been waiting for this day to declare his more amorous feelings.
It is with a heavy heart that I prepare for my wedding day, knowing it takes me that much farther away from a life of happiness with you. I can barely stand the thought of vowing my everlasting devotion to another woman when you are all I have and ever will desire.
Courtney’s heart seemed to stop beating as her breath caught mid-inhale.
The letter had not been meant for her at all. The note must have been delivered to her by mistake.
She immediately wanted to stop reading. The words were too personal, too intimate. Her possession of them felt like a violation of the deepest privacy.
But she couldn’t put the letter down, couldn’t look away from Geoffrey’s distinctive script swirling over sentiments he had never—and doubtless would never—express to her.
Despite the circumstances that will make me a husband to another, I will always and forever belong only to you. You are the light in my heart, the fire in my soul. I hate that we must continue to hide this love. Though I wish it could be different, I can only assure you with every devoted breath I take that our love will not weaken during the hours we are apart. It will only flourish in secret until those rare and beautiful times when we can be in each other’s arms.
Loving you endlessly,
Geoffrey
Courtney stared at the letter until the words blurred, rereading it over and over to assure herself she wasn’t imagining what she saw. There was no way around it.
Her fiancé’s dedication to his secret lover was undeniable—his love and passion laid out in black ink upon pure white paper.
Oh my God, she had been so stupid.
Here she had been trying to convince herself that it was simply Geoffrey’s nature to behave so conservatively. She had been desperate to believe deeper emotion might eventually grow between them…once they became more comfortable with each other as husband and wife.
The letter made it painfully clear how foolish she was to harbor such hopes.
He was already passionately in love with someone else. And he had no intention of bringing that relationship to an end. Not now, on the day of their wedding. Not ever.
Courtney’s marriage to Geoffrey would never be more than her mother had intended it to be—an advantageous union between two powerful families.
An icy sensation spread through her veins, her hands going numb.
For a second, she wished she hadn’t read the letter. She wished she could be standing before her mirror, still in possession of a thin thread of hope that something like love might develop between her and the man she was to marry.
But she had read it. The words were burned into her mind. There was no erasing them.
What on earth was she supposed to do now?
As soon as she thought the question, she heard her mother’s voice in her head. Nothing. You do nothing beyond what is expected of you. Destroy the letter. It does not change a thing.
It changes everything! Courtney mentally shouted in response.
She turned back to the full-length mirror.
The young lady in the reflection wore an elaborate gown ordered straight from New York City. An all-white configuration of satin, brocade, velvet, and lace
. Layered and draped in artful display around a figure so stiffly corseted there simply was no allowance for bad posture, despite her mother’s constant concern. Two strands of pearls encircled her throat, and more were clasped around her wrist. Pearl drop earrings swung delicately from her ears.
Her hair, only a slightly more subdued shade of red than it had been in her youth, was perfectly coiffed atop her head with the popular orange blossoms adorning the piled curls. Her veil was a waterfall of tulle falling to the floor behind her. And her expression was set in the calm, placid lines she had been trained to present despite whatever might be running through her thoughts or ravaging her heart. Nothing was more uncouth than an honest display of emotion, after all.
The mirror offered up the perfect image of the hopeful bride.
But inside…disillusionment rolled through Courtney like a crushing wave.
The truth of what her life would look like as Mrs. Geoffrey Cabot had suddenly become crystal clear.
According to all the criteria set by her mother and society, there was no denying it was an excellent match. The wealth and privilege she would continue to be afforded as Mrs. Cabot was more than many people could ever dream of having. And there was still the promise of respect and consideration.
It should be enough.
But it wasn’t. She wanted love. She wanted passion and adventure and excitement.
Love, happiness, and all her dreams come true.
Things she would never have with her husband. Could she accept such a future?
Did she have a choice?
Did she have a choice?
Her eyes widened in the reflection. Her lips parted as she drew in her first true breath since reading Geoffrey’s misdirected note.
She had a choice.
Alexandra’s flight from Boston and the resulting broken betrothal to a man of immense fortune and prestige had been the greatest scandal of last year. People had speculated about it for months, but eventually life had gone on.
And Alexandra was now enjoying a grand and passionate love with the man she was meant to be with. She had run away and had claimed her happily-ever-after.
What if Courtney did the same?