His Forbidden Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch (Spicy Version) Book 7) (3 page)

She knew why she was here. The proposal was happening at her insistence. She was the one who had begged him to marry her, to save the remainder of her life from misery. But when Solomon presented the box to her and opened it, revealing a simple, diamond ring, she brought her hands to her mouth in blissful shock as tears came to her eyes. As if proposing was his idea. As if he truly wanted to marry her instead of just feeling sorry for her.

“Miss Honoria,” he repeated, his voice somehow thicker, deep with emotion. “I know that the circumstances surrounding us are far from ordinary, and I know that our time together will be short, but for what time we have, for what it’s worth, will you make me the happiest man in Haskell by consenting to be my wife?”

It isn’t real
, a part of her cautioned.
He’s just taking pity on you
. But in that moment, looking into the dark, mysterious, and tender depths of Solomon’s eyes, Honoria could believe that this fine, noble man in front of her truly loved her. He was everything she’d ever wanted, and he was there for her.

“Yes,” she whispered, her heart almost too full for her to form the word.

He burst into a smile that was far, far more genuine than she could have wished for, almost seeming surprised. He stood, taking the diamond ring out of its box, then slipping the box into his pocket. He reached for her hand and slid the ring on her finger.

“Whatever else,” he said, holding her hand in both of his, “I promise that I will be as good of a husband to you as I know how to be. I can’t say that everything will be as peaceful and easy for you as you’d like, but I’ll do my best to make you happy and to—” He stopped suddenly, his expression pinching with emotion. When he went on, his voice was hoarse. “And to make your final days the best days of your life.”

“That’s all I ask for,” she answered, blinking back tears but trying to smile all the same. “That’s all I need.”
You’re all I need
, her heart answered as if it had longed to say those words for years.

Solomon nodded. For several long moments, he continued to hold her hand, staring into her eyes. Then, slowly but deliberately, he moved one hand to her waist and leaned down to kiss her. A sudden thrill of expectation coursed through her as he drew closer, his lips whispering over hers. The expectation burst into a fiery ball of longing as she tilted her head up and met his kiss with openness and acceptance. He was bigger than her in every way, his mouth wide and encompassing, and yet she trusted him with every part of her as his lips explored hers.

What started as a simple, closed-mouth kiss flared quickly into a full embrace. His hand slipped to the small of her back and tugged her closer. His lips parted hers, and she nearly sighed aloud as his tongue danced alongside hers. Shivers of heat and pulsing need poured through her, urging her to throw her arms around him, submit to him in every way a woman submitted to a man. She longed to lose what little of herself she had left in this brave, strong, kind man.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful.”

The sudden, joyful comment and the clapping that came with it nearly shocked Honoria out of her skin. She jumped back, wrenching free of Solomon’s embrace and jerking to the side to find a trio of women standing in the street watching them. One had taken out a handkerchief and was dabbing her eyes while the other two continued to clap and beam.

“Ladies.” Solomon nodded to them, his voice deep and his expression suddenly stiff and serious.

“That was simply the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” another of the women, this one with red hair, her bodice cut low, sighed.

Honoria blinked as recognition dawned. The three were Bonnie’s girls. She remembered that the one with blond hair was Pearl, the one with red hair was Della, and the Spanish one was Domenica.

“I am truly, so happy for you,” Domenica said in her thick accent.

“Thank you?” In truth, Honoria had no idea whether to be pleased or terrified. The women were whores. They worked for Bonnie Horner. Honoria considered Bonnie a friend, but she was also her father’s lover.

That last thought alarmed her as it sped through her head. She took a quick step toward the women. “Please don’t say anything to Bonnie,” she begged.

The three of them looked startled.

“Not say anything?” Pearl squeaked. “But Bonnie will be so happy for you.”

Maybe she would be, but at the moment Honoria couldn’t bear the thought of the one person in her daily life who didn’t treat her terribly thinking badly about her for making such a sudden move. “I’ll…I’ll tell her in my own time,” she said to the girls.

“It’s just such a wonderful love story,” Della sighed as the three of them nodded their agreement to keep things quiet. “Mr. Templesmith has always been such a gentleman to us all.”

Honoria’s brow shot up, and she turned to look at Solomon.

“Not in that way,” he was quick to correct any misconceptions she had before they could truly form.

“He advised me about a bank account,” Pearl said.

“And he explained to me that investing a portion of my earnings could help me to stop working this way three years sooner than I thought,” Domenica added.

“It’s the least I can do.” Solomon smiled and nodded to them, his hands clasped behind his back. “I dislike seeing people in servitude of any kind,” he added with a slightly ominous tone, glancing at Honoria.

Certainty that the decisions she’d made were good ones filled her along with certainty that Solomon was among the best of men.

“We’ll just leave you to, you know.” Della winked and hooked her arms through Pearl’s and Domenica’s tugging them along.

“Congratulations again,” Pearl called over her shoulder as the three of them rushed on, giggling.

Honoria watched them for a moment before letting out the breath she’d been holding and pressing a hand to her stomach. She had an uncomfortable feeling that they’d just experienced the most positive reaction to their engagement that they would receive.

“Are you all right?” Solomon came up behind her and rested his large hand on the small of her back.

Honoria nodded tightly, then turned to face him. She relaxed at his touch, smiled at the heartfelt concern in his eyes. “I’ll have to tell Bonnie,” she whispered, already dreading the conversation.

“I think so,” Solomon agreed. He shifted his weight, a thoughtful look coming to his eyes. “I don’t think she’ll mind. She may not even be surprised.”

Honoria’s brow lifted at the thought. It was true, Bonnie had a keen eye for human nature. Honoria was still baffled as to why she had attached herself to Rex Bonneville, but she’d never been brave enough to ask. Perhaps now…

She shook her head at the thought. There were other, more pressing problems.

“I… I’d like to marry as soon as possible, if that’s all right with you.” She lowered her eyes just a bit at her brazenness.

“I agree.” Solomon took her hands to reassure her. “I can speak to Rev. Pickering tomorrow morning to make arrangements.”

Hope returning, she smiled up at him. “It isn’t easy for me to get away from my father’s ranch on my own, but Vivian’s wedding on Monday will have everyone distracted.” Monday was only two days away. “We could find a way to take advantage of the decorations in the church and the dress I’ve made for the occasion.”

A wistful smile filled Solomon’s expression, and he brushed a lock of her hair back behind her ear. “You never cease to amaze me, Honoria.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You think so little of yourself, express so much concern for those who are not concerned for you.”

Her lashes fluttered down. “I only have one family, difficult though they are.”

“No you don’t.” He slid a hand under her chin to tilt her face up to him. “You have me now. I’m not much, but I’ll be your family. It will be…” He stopped, his voice catching and his eyes filling with ragged tenderness. “It will be my name on your tombstone.” He spoke the words quickly, as if he didn’t want to say them but had stopped himself too late.

A warm, fluttery feeling filled Honoria’s heart at the strangely romantic thought. Honoria Templesmith. Decades in the future, when everyone else was gone, any stranger finding her resting place would see that name, would never know the life she’d lived as a Bonneville.

“I’d like that,” she whispered. “It’s…it’s how I want to be remembered.”

“Then we’ll make it happen,” he said, bending down to kiss her lips gently. “Monday, we’ll make it happen.”

“
H
onoria
!” Vivian’s shrill shout echoed through the Bonneville house. “Honoria, where are you?”

“Get your lazy bones down here at once!” Melinda’s echoing cry followed.

Honoria coughed hard enough to shake her poor lungs, but continued madly folding her clothes and stuffing them into the worn carpetbag she’d brought down from the attic after everyone had gone to sleep the night before. She worked as swiftly and silently as she could, cramming as much as would fit into the meager bag. If she couldn’t fit it in the bag, she couldn’t take it with her into her new life.

The sound of Vivian and Melinda’s complaining voices continued downstairs, probably at the base of the stairs, but their words were indistinct. The tone was enough to light a fire under Honoria, though. She whipped back to her wardrobe and selected one more dress. The muted blue cotton was cool and comfortable and would suit her final days far better than any of the flashier, fancier gowns she owned. Not that she owned many. The fruits of her labor went to Vivian, Melinda, and sometimes Bebe, but rarely to herself.

“Honoria!” Vivian’s shout was twice as irritated this time and came from halfway up the stairs. “Land sakes, what is your problem?”

Honoria gasped and folded the dress as quickly as she could as the thumping sound of Vivian marching upstairs came closer. She shoved the dress into the carpetbag, then snatched the open bag off of her bed, where she was loading it, and practically tossed it into the wardrobe.

She had just begun to shut the wardrobe doors when Vivian came crashing into her room, Melinda behind her.

“What is taking you so long?” The shrewish scowl on Vivian’s otherwise pretty face was a stark contrast to her wedding dress. Honoria had labored for hours on the silk and lace confection. It had a full, stylish bustle, all the layers of flounces and ruffles that Vivian loved, and a stately, high collar which was currently fastened with their mother’s cameo brooch. Honoria would have given anything to be able to take that brooch with her to Solomon’s house.

Vivian must have seen the longing in Honoria’s eyes. She clapped a hand over the brooch, narrowed her eyes, and hissed, “Don’t you even think of it.”

“Good Lord, Honoria,” Melinda huffed, not noticing the interaction. She glanced around the room—which looked exactly as plain and tidy as it always did—and threw up her arms. “What can you possibly be doing up here? We’re already running late.”

Honoria opened her mouth to give some sort of explanation, but only ended up coughing.

“Ugh.” Vivian scrunched up her face. “You’re as bad as a leper. You should see Dr. Abernathy about that.”

It was all Honoria could do to keep a straight face.

Before she could say anything, Vivian pushed on with, “I tore the hem at the back of my dress. Fix it.”

“And then you can add a few more of those silk flowers to my bonnet,” Melinda added.

Vivian rounded on her and demanded, “Which silk flowers?”

Melinda flushed. “Well, you’re not going to use any more of them. It’s a pity to have them go to waste after Papa sent all the way to Paris for them.”

“Those are
my
silk flowers.” Vivian raised her voice, fists clenched as she glared at Melinda. “No one will use them but
me
!”

Honoria kept her lips pressed tightly shut, at least until she burst into another coughing fit. She raised her hands to cover her mouth.

“I won’t have you—” Vivian stopped dead in the middle of upbraiding Melinda and snapped to face Honoria. Or rather, to face her hand. Her eyes shot wide, then narrowed in bitter suspicion. “What in God’s name is
that
?”

Sickly dread pooled in Honoria’s stomach, and she jammed her hands behind her back. She’d forgotten to take Solomon’s ring off. She’d been so careful to keep it in her pocket or hanging from a ribbon around her neck, close to her heart, in the two days since he’d given it to her, but she’d put it on that morning and forgotten to take it off.

“What’s what?” she asked, voice trembling as she yanked the ring from her finger behind her back and tucked it into the folds of the small bustle at the back of her Sunday dress.

She could only pray that it stayed put as Vivian grabbed her arm and wrenched it forward. The gesture hurt, but Honoria would rather a moment of pain than discovery of her secret. She presented her other arm as well, holding out empty hands to her sisters.

“I saw something too,” Melinda insisted. “She stole some of your jewelry, didn’t she?”

“I didn’t, I swear,” Honoria said, truthfully.

Vivian narrowed her eyes. “You did, you little wench, and I’ll prove it.”

She swayed forward, tightening her grip on Honoria’s wrist, but before she could say or do more, a call of, “Vivian, darling, the carriage is about to head into town,” sounded from downstairs.

Footsteps followed, and Vivian yelped and whirled to face the door. “Don’t come another step up those stairs, Rance Bonneville!”

The footsteps stopped. “Why not?” Rance asked in his Kentucky drawl.

“Because the groom does not see the bride before they meet at the altar, you dunce,” she scolded him with a shout. “Don’t you know anything?” Under her breath she muttered, “I’ll never forgive Papa for making me marry him.”

“I thought you wanted to get married,” Melinda said. “You know, status and babies and all.”

Vivian sent her sister a look as though she was an imbecile child. “You have to go through some very unpleasant things to get those babies,” she growled, her face going red.

“Like what?” Melinda blinked, clueless.

Honoria blushed for her. Not that she knew much herself, but she knew the basic mechanics of making babies. How her sisters had dodged silly, whispered conversations in the schoolyard and contraband illustrations of technique that their father would have been outraged to know she’d seen was a mystery.

“Hurry up, Viv,” Rance called from the stairs.

Vivian huffed and started toward the door. “You’ll find out when your turn to marry comes,” she told Melinda.

“Well, how did you find out?” Melinda demanded.

Vivian’s expression went completely flat. “Bonnie told me.”

Honoria hid her laughter with a cough. Not even the annals of Ancient Greek drama could come close to the animosity Vivian—and Melinda—felt for Bonnie, but if anyone knew the ins and outs of “relations,” it was Bonnie. Honoria would have loved to be a fly on the wall of that conversation. Watching the two of them face each other down over breakfast that morning—Bonnie gracious and smiling, Vivian peevish and pouty—had been fine entertainment. Honoria would have loved to spend more time with Bonnie.

For many reasons, she realized as Vivian pushed Melinda into the hall to tell Rance to go away. Honoria was about to be married too, and though the time to discuss it hadn’t come yet, she wanted to experience all of the happinesses of marriage. All of them. Those contraband pictures she’d seen in her school days had been on her mind a lot in the past few days with her form and Solomon’s as the models.

“Vivian says you have to go on ahead to the church in the wagon.” Melinda’s voice carried up from the stairs as she gave her message to Rance. “You’re not to see her before the wedding, so you have to go now. We’ll come in the carriage behind you.”

“Well, all right then. I can get Kirby to drive me,” Rance replied.

As his footsteps retreated, Vivian grinned in triumph. “If he continues with that sort of obedient behavior, this marriage will be a success.” She indulged in a chuckle, then turned to Honoria. Her pleased expression turned sour. “You’re so useless, sitting up here in your room coughing. Come downstairs and fix my dress at once.”

Honoria obeyed, moving her engagement ring from her bustle to her pocket, if only because the sooner she fixed what Vivian needed fixing and sent her on her way, the sooner she could put her own plans in motion. Solomon would be driving out to the ranch at some point after he observed the rest of the Bonneville family entering town. His plan was to make sure as few people as possible were at the ranch when he arrived to pick her up, and then to whisk her away as fast as possible. Honoria’s mind was so preoccupied with their plans that she barely heard the insults and slights that Vivian and Melinda hurled at her—or Bonnie attempting to curb them—or Bebe’s whining and complaining that everyone was ignoring her.

The only part of Honoria and Solomon’s plan that Honoria wasn’t sure how to execute miraculously ended up taking care of itself.

“There isn’t room for you in the carriage,” Vivian snapped as she and Melinda, Bebe and Papa climbed into the borrowed conveyance. Bonnie stood to the side, waiting for the others to take their seats. The regular family carriage wasn’t fancy enough for Vivian’s wedding day, so Papa had borrowed the elaborate, open carriage of a friend of his in the Wyoming Stock Growers Association and had it shipped all the way from Cheyenne. “You’ll have to walk into town.”

“Yes, Honoria has to walk into town,” Bebe added with a wicked grin, adjusting her voluminous skirts as she sat back in her secure place.

For once, Honoria had no desire to complain about her treatment at all. She merely nodded and pretended to look down at her skirt and lament how dusty it would get.

“I’ll go with her.” Bonnie’s offer had Honoria snapping her head up. She tried to hide her horror. “I’ll drive her in my wagon.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Honoria fumbled.

Vivian glared at her, but Melinda narrowed her eyes in calculation.

“It’s not a problem at all.” Bonnie smiled.

“Well whatever you do, we’re going to be late,” Vivian snapped. “Papa, let’s go.”

Rex Bonneville sighed at his daughter’s command, then nodded to Bonnie. “I expect you to be prompt,” he said, then gestured for his driver to go on.

Honoria’s heart beat near her throat as the carriage lurched into motion, heading around the dusty drive in front of the house and then out along the lane toward the road to Haskell. She continued to watch it for far longer than she needed to, wishing there was some way to send Bonnie on her way as well.

“Now, would you like to tell me why you asked my girls not to tell me how you and Solomon Templesmith got engaged the other night?” Bonnie cut right to the chase.

Honoria flinched and winced as she slowly turned to face Bonnie. The regal woman had her arms crossed and was trying hard not to smile, but as much as her lips twitched and tightened, her bright blue eyes were alight.

“I…” Honoria had no idea at all how to answer her. She could only pray that her and Solomon’s plans weren’t about to be dashed to bits. “I…”

Bonnie brushed her nerves away with a flick of her hand. “No need to act like brimstone is going to rain down on you. I couldn’t approve of your engagement more.”

That was even more startling. Honoria stared off into the distance where the dust from her family’s carriage was moving further away, then scanned the yard around the ranch to make sure there were no ranch hands nearby. But no, they had all been ordered to attend the wedding. The only person left on the ranch was Maria, and she already knew what was going on.

“You don’t have to look like that.” Bonnie loosened her stance and stepped closer to rub Honoria’s arm. “I’m happy for you. I’ve seen the way the two of you steal looks at each other when you think no one is watching.”

Honoria blinked wide. “We do?”

Now it was Bonnie’s turn to look confused. “Of course you do. I’ve always assumed the two of you were courting in secret.”

“How…” Honoria’s mouth hung open for a second before she closed it and shook her head. “We haven’t been.”

Bonnie’s perplexed frown deepened. “Then how did this all happen?”

“I…” Heavens, she’d turned into a ninny who couldn’t even string words together. But how did you explain something as horrible and tragic as her fate? At last, Honoria sighed and motioned for Bonnie to follow her back to the house. As they reached the porch and climbed up toward the front door, she let it all spill out. “I’m dying.”

Bonnie gasped and reached out a hand to stop her before they walked through the door. “Oh, my dear, no.”

Honoria swallowed and faced her. “Yes.” She took a deep breath. “I went to see Dr. Meyers about my cough. He examined me. He even ran a modern test.” She shrugged. “I have consumption. Dr. Abernathy tells me I have less than a year left.” Once again, tears filled her eyes at the thought. But no, she was tired of crying over her fate. All she wanted to do now was take what was left of her life into her own hands.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.” Bonnie wrapped her in an embrace that would have been motherly if Bonnie herself weren’t so young. Young but wise beyond her years. Like a big sister. A kind, considerate big sister, not like Vivian or Melinda.

As quickly as she’d hugged her, Bonnie rocked back and held her at arm’s length. “Wait, Dr. Abernathy told you? I thought you said Dr. Meyers.”

“Dr. Meyers performed the exam, then he was called away. He gave his files to Dr. Abernathy to follow up.”

“Ah.” Bonnie sighed, her shoulders lowering. Honoria continued into the house and upstairs to her bedroom. “So…how does Solomon figure into this tragic news?”

As she reached the top of the stairs, Honoria turned to her, mustering a smile. “I ran into him shortly after I found out. You’re right about me having tender feelings for him.” She blushed and continued into her room to collect her carpet bag. She lifted it back to the bed and added a few more personal items, including a small daguerreotype of her mother, before closing it and fastening the clasp. “I don’t know what came over me, I just knew that I couldn’t live the last days of my life the way I’ve lived all the rest of them.”

Bonnie’s stricken expression softened into teary understanding. “I don’t blame you.”

“So I asked Solomon to marry me,” Honoria admitted bashfully. “I asked him to take me away from this life for what time I have left. He said yes.” She reached into her pocket to retrieve her ring, putting it back on her finger. “He gave me this.”

Bonnie took Honoria’s hand, blinking back tears, and studied the ring. “This must be what Pearl was telling me about. Please forgive her for spilling the beans,” she rushed to add. “She means well, Pearl does, but she’s always been impulsive.”