The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons (9 page)

Well, Mrs. Landseer, that makes two of us.

Because he’d never despised himself more.

Chapter 10

J
enny stood at the door, waiting for her.

Wearing the plainest of her dresses—the only one from Geoffrey she’d taken with her—Ada ran into her friend’s waiting embrace. Let herself burst into tears.

Jenny didn’t say anything, just held her and let her cry. Tears shook her shoulders. Not the delicate whimpers that girls like Violet Tremaine employed, but big, ugly sobs that came from a heart stepped on and broken.

The ride home had been torture. Sitting amid the trappings of the world she no longer belonged to felt like the worst hypocrisy.

Now she was home. She stepped back. Swiped her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. Jenny stared at her, sympathy in her gaze.

“What happened?” Jenny’s tone was matter-of-fact as she led Ada inside. The apartment hadn’t changed since she’d left it. Same faded sofa. Same basket of knitting. Same chipped china teacup on the end table. It was she that had changed. Geoffrey had changed her. She’d managed to stay much the same for almost twenty-one years, only to be irrevocably altered in three short weeks.

“I met the real Geoffrey Buchanan.” She took off her hat and laid it on the table, her limbs leaden.

“Is he a tyrant? Don’t worry, I suspected as much.” Jenny sat on the edge of the sofa. “You were very brave to live through three weeks, but it’s over. You never have to see him again.”

The words nearly brought on another rush of tears, but Ada forced them back and swallowed. “For once in your life, Jenny Adams, you’re actually wrong. Geoffrey is… the kindest man I’ve ever met. He’s smart, fun, and plays terrible croquet. He likes motorcars and doesn’t read big books. He used to play with a train set and named the cars. He’s…” Another sob choked her words.

“You fell for him, didn’t you?” Jenny’s gaze penetrated.

Ada nodded. Oh, she’d more than fallen for him.

“Figures.” Jenny sighed. “When you left, I said to myself, ‘He’ll either be Attila the Hun and she’ll hate every minute of it, or Casanova and she’ll end up with a broken heart.’ I only hoped it wouldn’t be the second one. But don’t worry, now that you’re here in your own world again, where you belong, you’ll soon forget all about him.” She patted Ada’s hand.

Not a chance. She could live without fine things or gourmet food, but now that she’d known love, would she ever be all right without it again?

“I suppose so.”

The door opened. Teddy stepped inside, wearing his raggedy cap and a huge smile on his pale face.

“Teddy!” Ada jumped to her feet and threw her arms around her brother. He’d grown thinner while she’d been away, far too thin for a sixteen-year-old boy. Yet he hugged her tightly, still over a foot taller than she.

He was the reason she’d gone away. She’d go again, even if it meant re-shattering her heart, if only to get him well.

“I’m so glad you’re back.” He grinned and held her at arm’s length. “My, my, quite the lady. Wherever you’ve been, they sure have treated you well. But… you’ve been crying.” He scrutinized her face.

“Only because I’m so happy to be home again.” Not a lie, exactly. She was glad to be home.

“If you’re sure.” He coughed.

Worry wove tight around her heart. Soon, it wouldn’t. Soon he’d be somewhere safe, getting well.

“I’ll be going then.” Jenny stepped toward the door. “Let me know if you need anything at all, and I’ll come down.” Like crying, or eating a full box of chocolates together, or all the things best friends were for.

No doubt she and Jenny had many hours of both ahead of them.

She resumed her seat on the sofa, while Teddy chatted on about all he had done in her absence, the books he had read and the work he had accomplished. She smiled and laughed in all the right places, yet couldn’t put her heart to it. Eventually, Teddy stood and went to his room.

“I’ll make you some dinner. Maybe some of your favorite blueberry muffins.” She forced another smile.

“That would be nice.” With an understanding grin, he moved down a narrow hall toward his room at the end.

She crossed the peeling wood floor to the kitchen. On the counter, beside a bowl of apples, lay a white envelope.
Ada
scrawled across it in precise, elongated strokes.

Her heart sped up. She tore the flap with shaking hands.

A check.

Two thousand dollars.

She pressed her hand to her mouth, her head spinning. He had only owed her one.

A single sheet of white writing paper written in the same decisive hand.

Ada drew in a long breath, pressing the paper to her chest. Tears filled her eyes but didn’t fall. She had cried an ocean already.

“Oh, Lord, I loved him,” she whispered. “But it wasn’t meant to be. Help me to accept that and to trust You for whatever comes. Draw me to You like never before. And, Lord, I pray Geoffrey finds You. Because with only his millions for comfort, he’s a lost man.”

She shouldn’t accept the money, but he was right. She would be miserable without Teddy. He needed her with him. Geoffrey, in his kindness, had made a way for her to go.

The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.
He’d taken Geoffrey from her life but given her the chance to remain in Teddy’s. For that, she would praise Him.

She refolded the letter and placed it, along with the check, back in the envelope. Methodically, she washed her hands and rolled up the sleeves of her fancy dress. In the past weeks, her hands had grown soft, unaccustomed to work. She’d become, outwardly at least, a society girl.

She wouldn’t miss it. Hours spent changing clothes. A maid fussing over her. The painfully tight corsets.

She would miss Geoffrey.

“Don’t be afraid to take chances and to love completely.”

Someday, perhaps.

Yet right now, all she could think of was getting her brother well. And piecing her own shattered heart back together.

Night soaked the room in blackness. But nothing could compare to the darkness cloaking his heart.

Ever since the moment when Ada had walked toward Meadowbrook and out of his life, he hadn’t been able to shake her from his thoughts. A week later and he’d slept little, barely eaten, and had to remind himself to breathe.

For the first time in his life, he wanted a woman he couldn’t have. Most every girl he’d ever met had flung herself at him. The only one who hadn’t just happened to be the one he longed for with everything in him.

He shouldn’t have let himself get so close, feel so much. He had, and the damage was irrevocably done. Memories of her had saturated his very being, embedded to the point where nothing could remove them.

Geoffrey sat up in bed, scrubbed a hand across his face. Why bother to try and sleep? It wouldn’t be successful.

He wanted to go to her. He couldn’t. She didn’t care for him. Was no doubt gone to some warmer climate by now. He wouldn’t even know where to search.

He wouldn’t foist himself upon her. She might feel compelled to accept. The woman he married must come to him willingly, for him, not his riches. Perhaps no one ever would. Perhaps his only attraction was his millions.

He swallowed hard. As a little boy, he would’ve traded every cent he owned and more for simple, unconditional love. The hug of a mother, the acceptance of a father. The comradery of a friend.

At thirty-one years old, he was still the same little boy. Still longing for someone to love him. To believe in him.

“Well, let me give it to you straight, Geoffrey Buchanan. He does. More than anyone else in the whole world. He died on a cross for the sins of the universe. Yours included. You just have to let Him into your life, let Him love you. And not be too proud to admit you need saving.”

Perhaps… there was Someone. Only, he’d rejected Him. Relied on his money to get what he wanted, while all the time what he needed couldn’t be bought. Only freely given.

He stood and crossed the room, opened his closet door, flipped on the light switch, and reached up to the very top shelf. Under a stack of old school things rested a small leather volume. He returned to his bed and opened the book. On the front page, in small, uneven letters, read the words,
“This Bible belongs to Geoffrey Buchanan.”
He smiled and skimmed through the pages.

What was he looking for? He didn’t know. But he would when he found it.

“And we have known and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.”

The words stole his breath. Along with a freeing realization.

God loved him. The God he’d considered an angry, sin-damning Being, loved him. Not because he was rich, or famous, or worthy. But simply because He is Love.

And Geoffrey knew one thing. He wanted this love, this God in his life. Totally and completely. Invading every part of him.

As a boy, when his parents had taken him to church, the reverend always told everyone to bow their heads and close their eyes before prayer. It had seemed strange then, but not now.

So he prayed. Not a perfectly phrased, grammatically correct prayer, but one that came from deep within. As he prayed, he sensed God. Coming into his life, filling his heart.

Redeeming his soul.

Geoffrey lifted his head and opened his eyes. The void from Ada’s absence still yawned deep. But there, right along with it, the knowledge that he wasn’t alone. God would help him through this valley. Through every valley from this day forward.

From now on, life would be different. Instead of seeing his wealth as a burden, he would use it to help others. Instead of ignoring the requests for charitable donations, he would give freely. And along with that, he would share what he had learned, and all he would learn.

Someday, perhaps he would be known for more than his riches and eligibility. Someday, he would be able to look himself dead in the eye and say he lived life well. Until then, he could rest secure in one truth.

God’s love.

Chapter 11

Three Months Later
Saranac Lake Sanitarium, New York

P
romise filled the air as surely as the gentle breezes off Saranac Lake.

As the days passed and Teddy slowly recovered, her own heart began to heal.

Sketchbook in hand, Ada sat by the lake, her pages fluttering in the breeze. It was a beautiful place of renewal and restoration. And sometimes, yes, even of death.

In that, too, there could be hope.

She closed her eyes, drinking in the freshness of the air. In the woman she had become. One who lived every moment of every day to the fullest, serving God and showing love. One no longer defined by her class.

She still thought of Geoffrey. In unguarded moments memories flooded her thoughts, so raw and fierce, tears overwhelmed her and she let herself cry.

But she was moving forward and dreaming again. Using her life for a greater purpose than drowning in her own sorrows.

Teddy waved at her from where he gathered shells on the beach. The doctors had credited his healing to their treatments. She gave all the glory to God.

He flashed her a smile before heading off again. In a few weeks, they would leave here. She hadn’t yet decided where to go. Perhaps to Malone, back to where they’d grown up. They still had over five hundred dollars left and could use it to purchase a shop. Something the two of them could do together. Wherever they went, they would go with God.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a figure walking along the beach, approaching Teddy. The two met and stopped, no doubt exchanging salutations. Teddy moved in one direction, and the man continued in the other, along the water’s edge.

She glanced at the watch pinned to the bodice of her dress. Three o’clock. She should go inside, prepare tea in their little cottage.

She smoothed her skirts and stood, casting one last glance at the water.