Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance) (101 page)

     With these words he walked the length of the garden in brisk, determined strides; stepping in front of his frowning guest as he commanded her attention.

     “Elena?” he asked her, taking her hand in his, “Will you be my bride?”

     Elena looked at him for a long moment, a slow, loving smile spreading across her face as she considered this fateful question.

     Squeezing his fingers tight between hers, his lady friend stared deep into his eyes as her smile spread to shine downright radiant; nodding in seeming agreement with his impulsive but heartfelt proposal.

Then she parted her pearl pink lips and answered, “No, Justin. Absolutely not.”

     Stepping back with a
sharp
defined snort, Justin broke their grasp as his hands instead clasped both sides of his addled head.

     “Now I finally understand, my dear, just why you came to my ranch on that ever fateful day,” he deadpanned, adding as he crossed his eyes to near desperate effect, “You came to kill me, didn’t you? To drive me mad with the love that you mean to deny me, and then—when I finally just keel over from the misery of it all—you aim to take possession of my ranch and all of the oil, roses and valuable crops that come with it.” He paused here, adding as he waved a scolding finger straight in her direction, “I am well and onto you, Miss.”

     Elena looked at him for another long moment, her wide eyed gaze this time indicating that she questioned his very sanity.

     Then she started laughing. Hard.

     “I swear it, Justin,” she chortled outright, doubling over as her sides continued to shake with a sharp torrent of released mirth that threatened to overwhelm her. “I never have laughed so hard in all my life, as I do when I’m with you.” She paused here, adding as she graced him with an affectionate smile, “And that is only one of the reasons that I love to spend time with you—and, for that matter, that I would love to spend far more time with you.”

     Justin nodded.

     “OK then,” he assented, adding as his blue eyes now narrowed in a show of complete and total confusion, “So then you do plan to accept my marriage proposal?”

     After pausing for a moment of keen contemplation, one in which she stroked her delicate chin to adorable effect, Elena shook her head fast and brisk in response to this query.

     “Nope,” she replied, “Not at this time.”

     She grinned in spite of herself as her frustrated host pawed the ground like an angry bull; bowing his head in a show of confused frustration as he
plead
outright, “Would you stop that—please? You’re driving me mad, Girl!”

     Elena chuckled.

     “Well as is usual with many members of the male population, Justin, you are not listening to the lady before you,” she chided him, adding in a softer, more serious tone, “I said that I cannotaccept your marriage proposal at this time. And here’s the reason: I have no earthly desire to be a mail order bride, Justin; or, for that matter, a bride of convenience. I do not want to marry you because I need a man to support me. And I do not want you to marry me just because you feel sorry for me, or perhaps because you need a little help around the ranch. Most of all, I do not want to be some pretty little prize that you order up and show off, like a lovely little filly or a lamb you show at the fair.”

     Justin nodded, visibly relaxing as he heard and processed this perfectly logical explanation.

     “Well I suppose that makes sense,” he allowed, adding as he made a broad gesture between them, “So how can I convince you that I really and truly want to be with you, Elena? How can I convince you that I want you as my wife and companion? Not as a ranch hand, as an ornament, or as a mail order favor—but as the amazing, wonderful, beautiful woman that you are?”

     Elena smiled.

     “Well let me tell ya something, Cowboy,” she informed him, adding as she aimed an affirming finger straight in his direction, “Describing me in such glowing terms does quite a bit to set you on the right track to winning my heart. As far as what else you can do?” she paused here, adding as she stroked her chin in a show of mock contemplation, “Well how’s this for a wild idea? Court me!”

     Justin grinned.

     “Well that, Miss, I would be more than pleased to do. Honored, as a matter of fact,” he told her, adding as he pinned her with a pensive look, “Now you said earlier that, last night, you and I danced our way through your dreams. Well why don’t we make your dream come true? Why don’t I take you to the barn dance being hosted this Friday, at Old McDougall’s Farm?”

*****

Accepting his invitation, if not his proposal (not yet, anyway), Elena delighted the next day as her doting companion took her to a dressmaker; picking out a gown that she would wear to the much anticipated barn dance—refusing to let Justin see the gown before the night of the big event.

     On the night of the dance, Elena slipped with quiet delight into the fabrics of this lovely frock; a lush eye catching azure hued concoction of floral print cotton and lace boasting a
fine
tailored bodice, wide sleeves embossed with lace trim, and a flowing fully made
skirt
.

     Gathering her smooth, soft wheat blonde hair stop her head in a graceful upsweep, she affixed a shiny pearl choker around her neck and some dainty ivory slippers onto her feet; stepping forth into Justin’s sitting room to meet her date for the evening.

     And never had she seen anyone more handsome, dressed as he was in a sleek white cotton shirt accentuated by the presence of a sharp black bolo tie and matching wool pants.

     For once electing not to wear his signature ivory hat, Justin’s silky ebony hair fell full and free across the surface of his broad muscled shoulders; framing the smiling, handsome face that she’d come to adore.

     “Miss, I must say it,” he praised her, adding as he bowed his head reverent before her, “You are beyond beautiful.”

     Elena beamed.

    
“Why
thank you,” she told him, adding with a gracious curtsy, “And I must say it. So are you.”

     Soon the couple found themselves standing at the center of a massive red barn; yet for once they did venture into the barn to feed horses and livestock, bale hay, or conduct any of the other everyday duties that punctuated their days together.

     Now that night had fallen, all the two of them yearned to do was dance in one another’s arms.

     Sweeping her up in an all-consuming embrace, Justin swayed his lady across the surface of a curious hay strewn floor; the two linking their arms as they stared deep into one another’s eyes.

     “Miss, I am so pleased that you agreed to accompany me this evening,” he told her, adding as he gathered her to him, “You’ve added so much to my life—so much laughter, so much light. I just can’t get enough of our time together, and I hope to spend much more.”

     With these words he bent her body backward in a thrilling dip; their beings growing closer as she wrapped her arms tight around his muscled shoulders.

“All I have to say, Justin, is that I don’t feel any of this is a coincidence. We came into one another’s lives at just the right time,” she whispered, adding as she drew him closer, “Before meeting you, I never thought that I would love anyone but Blake. And although I always will adore that man—he was my first love, after all—my heart belongs to you now. I can’t deny it.”

     Justin nodded.

     “So is it safe to say that you are now ready to take that next big step?” he asked, setting her once again on her feet as he pinned her with an inquiring gaze. “Are you well and prepared to become my wife?”

     Gracing him with an ethereal smile, Elena bit her lip as a becoming blush flooded her fair cheeks. Then she leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “No.”

     She grinned as Justin froze in his place, letting loose with a strangulated moan that seemed to indicate a man in extreme physical pain.

     “So my original theory was correct,” he noted, nodding in a show of mock affirmation. “You are trying to kill me. Or, at the very least, cost me my earthly sanity.”

     Elena chuckled.

     “As I said before, Justin, I wish to be courted,” she asserted, raising a firm finger for emphasis. “And while this dance is certainly a wonderful start, it is just that—a start.” She paused here, adding with a shrug, “The journey down the aisle is so swift—that is why the journey to the aisle must take longer. We both have to be sure, Justin.”

*****

During the next few weeks, Justin went out of his way to make Elena sure; gifting her with lovely bouquets of ebullient, dew glistened golden roses, often intermingled with fresh sprigs of baby’s breath, and also gifted her with tokens of his affection; everything from heart shaped boxes of rich, sweet chocolates to glittery baubles that included shiny pearl bracelets and glowing diamond necklaces.

     Although she thanked them profusely for these lovely gifts, showing her gratitude with a rain of sweet kisses and many expressions of thanks, Elena still refused the proposals of marriage that accompanied their giving.

     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.

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 reached 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.