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Authors: Bice Prudence

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BOOK: The Widower's Wife
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He often wondered what kind of life she’d led before coming here. From bits and pieces of stories he’s overheard her telling the children and Aunt Betty about her life back East, it sounded as though she definitely wasn’t used to the kind hard labor required of her here. Most likely, her days were spent in leisurely visits with friends and her evenings spent entertaining or attending socials and parties. By the look and softness of her hands when she had arrived, he was sure she had been raised with servants and attendants. He had watched sympathetically as she struggled to keep her hands from chafing. She had brought a jar of some kind of cream, which she kept in the kitchen window and used religiously after doing dishes or washing clothes. He tried to help make her burdens lighter by helping out where he could. He again wondered what caused her to give up a life of luxury and come here to a strange home, taking on all the responsibilities of a mother.

She was so beautiful sitting there, but it wasn’t just her face or her wisps of strawberry curls escaping their pins once again, nor was it the creamy porcelain look to her skin. It was the beauty that radiated out from within her. It had been right for her to come here. He couldn’t think it often enough. Dalton was elated that she loved his children so dearly. Jillian’s love for them was evident in everything she did. An outsider watching would never guess that she hadn’t borne these children herself.

Dalton sat quietly for a few minutes longer and then stood up. Jillian would sleep better in her own bed, and she needed the rest. Reluctantly, he walked over and lifted Lisa gently off her lap. Jillian woke from the movement and smiled up at him sleepily.

“I’m sorry, I must have dozed off,” she said in a whisper. She gathered the closed book, set it on the table next to her, and stood up to follow him, carrying Brenn. They walked to the children’s room and put them in their beds. Dalton watched from the doorway as Jillian softly placed a kiss on each of their foreheads as she tucked their blankets up around them. “Good night, my little angels, sweet dreams,” she said in a whisper and walked past him and out of the room.

 

Jillian waited in the hallway as Dalton shut the door. For a moment they stood looking at each other. Try as she might, she could not keep her eyes from momentarily glancing to his lips and the memory she found there. She’d been trying since yesterday to convince herself that she had just been daydreaming, but she knew she could never have imagined such a kiss.

Dalton took a step forward, and for a moment, Jillian thought he might take her into his arms again. Instead, he abruptly turned and headed back down the hallway. When he reached the end, he stopped, paused, and then turned around to look at her. She was embarrassed that she had been caught still watching him.

“I need to bank the fire in the parlor,” he said simply. “You’ve worked hard today and I expect you’re pretty worn out, so I’ll see you in the morning.” Then, almost as an after thought, he said, “Good night.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and headed toward the parlor.

Jillian quickly went into her room, shutting the door behind her and leaning up against it. She took a few deep breaths and tried to calm her racing heart. She wanted him to kiss her again, wanted to feel his arms around her. What was she thinking? She was through with men, wasn’t she? Things were working out wonderfully the way they were. She would not allow her heart to be trampled on again.

Forcing herself to recall Nathan Shaw and how he had deceived her, she walked over to her vanity and sat down. Methodically, she began removing the pins from her hair. Picking up her brush, she slowly began working her way through her mass of curls, as images of Nathan began to fill her mind. She felt icy fingers start to wrap around her heart again, as the images became more vivid. How could she have been so blind? Of course, Nathan had been an expert at hiding his true character. She remembered the night her whirlwind romance began.

 

It was the night of the Spring Ball Extravaganza. Jillian was sixteen and a half, and it was her first opportunity to attend the ball.

She wore the new emerald green dress Father had brought back from his trip to Paris. The color was perfect for her and made the green of her eyes come alive. She’d always considered herself mostly plain, but she did like her eyes and the long lashes that framed them. Tonight, as she gazed into the mirror, she thought herself almost attractive. Her strawberry curls were meticulously piled atop her head with just the right amount draping down the back of her neck. The cut of the dress was daringly lower than most of the dresses she owned, but not so low as to compromise her modesty. It did, however, compliment her recently filled out figure, and she felt excited for the evening ahead. There was a knock at her bedroom door.

“Come in,” she called and smiled in the mirror as Marcus entered her room. He let out a long, low whistle.

“I’ll be beating them off of you tonight, Little Sis. You’re sure you want to be wearing that dress?” He looked her up and down. “I’ll have my work cut out for me, protecting the honor of the most beautiful girl at the ball.” He feigned pulling a sword from his waistcoat and stood in front of her with his other arm out to protect her. Playfully she swatted him on the shoulder and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

“Oh, Marcus, you’re the sweetest brother I have.”

“I’m the only brother you have,” Marcus said grinning.

“Well, if I did have another, you would definitely be the sweetest.”

“If you did have another, I might not have to work so hard tonight defending your honor. I would have a comrade in arms.” He gave his imaginary sword one last swipe and then gave her his most handsome smile. “Sweet as I may be, dear sister, I have come to collect you. Our carriage is ready and we will be late if we do not leave this very moment.”

Jillian took one last look in the mirror, twisted a curl back into place, and then linked her arm through Marcus’s.

“Well, lead the way, my dear champion. You do know how I hate to be late.”

“That I know, dear sister, that I know.” And with that, they were on their way, arriving at the ball with a couple minutes to spare.

Already the great hall was bustling with all sorts of different dignitaries and members of the elite class. Providence was known for its Spring Ball Extravaganza. The city overflowed with visitors this time of year, mostly nieces and nephews of wealthy businessmen and landowners. The
Providence Gazette
, a weekly paper that featured the high society “goings on” in the city, always published an article on the event the following day. It covered, in particular, the current most attractive debutantes and most eligible bachelors. It was considered most advantageous to get oneself mentioned. Some of the more outlandish youths even planned bizarre pranks to catch the attention of the reporters.

Marcus escorted Jillian into the ballroom after collecting her dance card. Immediately, she spotted Bethany Johansen and tugged on Marcus’s arm to lead her in that direction. Bethany was a true beauty if ever there was one. She had curled her dark ebony hair tonight and pinned it up in an attractive style, with just enough of the rich darks curls hanging down around her neck, in a soft and enticing manner.

Bethany and Jillian had been best friends since, well, forever, it seemed. Jillian was only four when Bethany moved into the house across the street. They became instant friends, spending countless hours having tea parties with their dolls. Their other favorite activities had been exploring and pretending they were in danger of being captured by pirates.

As they grew older, they spent their days sharing secrets and talking about boys and men. They enjoyed practicing their ladylike poses and phrases for the express purpose of catching the attention of some unsuspecting member of the opposite sex.

Bethany was the only one that knew about Jillian’s secret attraction to the dashing Mr. Nathan Shaw. In turn, Jillian was the only one that knew about Bethany’s infatuation with her brother, Marcus. Jillian could see the blush rise to Bethany’s cheeks as they neared her. She couldn’t blame her friend. Marcus was both extremely handsome and endearingly charismatic. He had thick blond hair with only the slightest hint of curl, so instead of being unruly, like hers, it lay in perfect waves. He also had the same green eyes and thick lashes as she did. Marcus took pride in his physique, working hard to keep his body in perfect shape. No, she couldn’t blame Bethany Johansen for falling in love with her brother. Marcus was a good catch. Both girls squealed in delight as they clasped hands when Jillian finally reached her.

“Oh, Jillian, you look absolutely divine. Not a man here will be able to resist you tonight, nor does any other girl stand a chance.” Bethany pretended to pout for a moment, but her face quickly turned to a smile again.

“Don’t be silly, Bethany. You know you will be the one getting all the attention. That color of blue is spectacular on you.” Jillian stood back a step to get a better look.

“Well, maybe I’ll get some attention from the ones you reject.” They both burst into giggles and hugged one another. Marcus spoke up then.

“I think you’re both getting attention right now from the entire assembly, going on like you are.” Both girls quickly straightened themselves and attempted to look proper. Bethany shyly looked up at Marcus.

“Hello, Marcus. Thank you for bringing Jillian here so promptly. You saved me from looking awfully pitiful, just standing here all by myself.”

Marcus took a low bow and swept Bethany’s hand up into his own, placing a very proper, albeit lingering, kiss there. Bethany blushed beautifully.

“The pleasure is all mine, my lady. I do adore rescuing beautiful, stranded females like yourself.” He didn’t release her hand right away. “Besides, you know our Jillian absolutely abhors being the slightest bit tardy to anything.”

Jillian’s smile widened as Bethany’s blush deepened, this time creeping up her neck and face before settling onto her cheeks. Marcus was teasing her mercilessly. Jillian gave him a hard nudge in his ribs and he finally let go of her hand. Bethany was still speechless, so Jillian nudged her with her other elbow, but to her amusement, her friend still stood dumfounded.

“Why, Bethany Johansen,” Marcus began, “the rose of your blush flatters me.” He was in trouble now. Jillian dug the heel of her shoe into his foot. She saw him grimace slightly, but she could tell that it wasn’t going to stop him. If he continued, he’d have Bethany so flustered it would ruin their entire evening. She had to interrupt before he said anything else.

“Marcus, be a dear boy and fetch Bethany and me something to drink, won’t you? It is getting quite warm in here already, and I’m sure Bethany is as parched as I am.” She gave him a look that said, “You’d better not cross me, big brother.”

Marcus bowed again, low and graceful. “Ah, but your wish is my command.” And with a wink, which only served to turn Bethany’s face an even darker shade of pink, he turned and headed toward the refreshment tables. When Marcus left, Jillian heard Bethany let out the breath she had been holding. Jillian laughed and put her arm through her friend’s, giving it a little squeeze.

“You know, Beth, you’ve practically grown up in the same household as Marcus. Why are you still so tongue-tied around him?” she asked.

Bethany sighed. “I don’t know, Jillian. He just does something to me when he’s around, and I can’t think or move or do anything but stare at him. All that practicing we did when we were younger obviously hasn’t paid off for me.” Bethany rolled her eyes in exasperation, causing Jillian to laugh heartily again.

“Well, you do manage to change colors pretty easily,” she pointed out between giggles. She tried to stop and appear more dignified. “Seriously, Beth, you’re never going to get anywhere if you can’t say two words to him.”

“I know, I know,” Bethany sighed.

Just then, Jillian caught sight of Nathan Shaw. He’d entered the room, immediately spotted Marcus over at the refreshment table, and gone to join him. Oh, how fine he was to look at. His hair was light brown with a touch of gold streaked through it, and his eyes were the color of brown sugar. Now, it was Jillian’s turn to get nervous.

Usually, Jillian was actually quite comfortable around Nathan, not getting all jittery and befuddled as did quite a few of the other girls who tried to get his attention. Marcus and Nathan had been good friends since she was about ten, and he spent a lot of his time at their house. Not only had he seen her through her awkward years, they had, since they’d first met, playfully teased each other back and forth. By now, they had a fairly comfortable and open relationship with each other, except for the fact that she was secretly enamored with him, and he only thought of her as his best friend’s little sister.

Jillian saw her brother nod his head in her direction and say something to Nathan. Nathan turned in her direction and caught her eye. Jillian quickly looked away, embarrassed to be caught staring. When she looked back at him, he was still looking at her, seemingly admiring her. She watched as he said something to Marcus and headed in her direction. Jillian began to fidget and Bethany, whom she forgot was standing next to her, gave her a little nudge. It was her turn to be teased. Jillian turned to give Bethany a sour, but playful look. When she turned back, Nathan was standing directly in front of her. He took her hand and demurely gave it a kiss.

“Good evening, Miss Jillian Grey.” He was being ever so polite. “Might I be the first to tell you that you are ravishing this evening?” He stood back, still holding her hand, and looked her over from head to toe. “All grown up and blossomed right before my very eyes.”

BOOK: The Widower's Wife
13.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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