Heartstrings
Authors: Rebecca Paisley
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #HISTORICAL WESTERN ROMANCE
HEARTSTRINGS
by
Rebecca Paisley
Published by Amber House Books
Smashwords Edition
Copyright by Rebecca Paisley All Rights Reserved.
This Edition 2015
Cover design by Control Freak Productions
Cover Photo Copyright Romance Novel Covers
Cover Photo Copyright Period Images
Cover Background and Graphics Copyright Holly Kuchera, Oxana Zuboff and Mega Pixel (Used via license Shutterstock.com)
Published by Amber House Books, LLC
http://www.amberhousebooks.com
For more information, contact [email protected]
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Table of Contents
Amber House Books by Rebecca Paisley
Epilogue
Amber House Books by Rebecca Paisley
Heartstrings
by Rebecca Paisley
WANTED: TALL, DARK-HAIRED, BLUE-EYED MAN TO SIRE GENIUS CHILD. PRIZE: $100 IN GOLD
When bluestocking bookworm Theodosia Worth resolves to bear a baby for her childless sister, she decides an advertisement is the most practical way to find a father. Leaving behind the comforts of Boston, she travels west in the hope of striking a business-only arrangement with a likely candidate.
Hired gun Roman Montana gallops into the dusty Texas town on his silver steed, not knowing he’s been hired to guard the luscious body of a golden-haired, whiskey-eyed beauty with plenty of “book smarts” but without a lick of common sense. Roman is forced to protect the infuriating woman—and her infernal parrot—from the lechers who respond to her ad.
Roman may not be a genius but he’s smart enough to realize he’s the only true candidate for the job of the “stud” who can make all of Theodosia’s dreams come true. By proving he’s up to the task, he just might earn a prize more precious than gold—Theodosia’s heart.
Praise for
Heartstrings
and Rebecca Paisley
Winner of the
Affaire de Coeur
Reviewers Choice Award for “Best Historical Romance”
“Enchanting and funny…The queen of endearing and perplexing heroines is back! Do not let this book slip by.”—
Affaire de Coeur
“Witty and charming…a refreshingly different read. Rebecca Paisley has a delightful way with words. She makes your heart sing with joy and her talent shines brighter than any diamond! Historical romance at its best!”—
Romantic Times
“Charm, imagination and laughter! All you need is Rebecca Paisley!”—Lisa Kleypas,
New York Times
bestselling author
“Boldly goes where few writers go and she does it brilliantly!”—Eloisa James,
New York Times
bestselling author
“Rebecca Paisley is the Queen of unique and charming love stories!” Jill Barnett,
New York Times
bestselling author
“Rebecca Paisley dazzles the heart!” Teresa Medeiros,
New York Times
bestselling author
“One of the most talented writers in the genre, Ms. Paisley is an absolute delight to read! Once you’ve read your first Paisley, we can guarantee it won’t be your last!”—
Historical Romance Writers
Amber House Books by Rebecca Paisley
Dedication
In Loving Memory of Major Emil Edward Boado, USAF
Once when I was little, I wrote, “I love you, Daddy,” on a small scrap of paper. I gave it to you and asked you to keep it in your wallet forever.
You promised you would.
Years later you left for Vietnam.
You didn’t come back.
They returned your things to us, and among your various belongings was your wallet.
The note I’d given to you was still inside.
Thanks for keeping your promise, Daddy.
Prologue
Lillian’s baby died.
The terrible words echoed endlessly through Theodosia’s mind as she stared from the threshold of her sister’s room toward the canopied bed where Lillian lay sleeping.
Another cross will be planted in the family cemetery alongside the three others. No grave; only a tiny cross commemorating the passing of a tiny life.
Theodosia’s fingers curled around the envelope in her hand; the paper crackled, and the sound grated. She’d arrived home only moments ago with such happy news to share—news for which they’d all been waiting for weeks.
News that suddenly didn’t seem important at all.
“Come in, my dear,” Upton called softly.
Theodosia stepped into the room and caught the scent of lemon verbena, Lillian’s favorite perfume. She stopped before nearing the bed. “Lillian. The baby.” Her own words sounded ragged to her, as if someone had ripped them out of her.
Her brother-in-law rose from his chair beside the bed and joined Theodosia in the middle of the large elegant room. Embracing her tenderly, he smoothed her bright gold hair, then drew away and gazed into her huge brown eyes. “She lost the baby soon after you left this morning, Theodosia. It happened very quickly this time. There was little discomfort, and the doctor said she would be up and about in a week. I would have sent for you, but I didn’t know where you were.”
Slowly, Theodosia looked up at him, her eyes caressing every line of the face of the man she’d loved like a father for as long as she could remember. “I—I was walking. In the Common. Reading. The letter. I was reading the letter, and…”
She couldn’t finish; too many thoughts crowded her mind. Lifting her hand to her temple, she glanced back at Lillian and felt guilt stab through her sorrow. Her sister should have begun her family long ago. Lillian and Upton had waited too long, and now, not only did Lillian experience great difficulties conceiving, but she’d lost four babies, each in her second month of pregnancy. The physicians had made it clear that the only chance Lillian had to deliver a full-term baby now was to carry it into the third month. But so far she hadn’t succeeded.
Everyone, including Upton, had suggested adopting an infant, but Lillian wouldn’t hear of it. She desperately wanted a son or daughter of her own flesh and blood, a child who would resemble her and Upton, and her desire was planted so deeply within her heart that there was no uprooting it.
It’s all my fault they have no children,
Theodosia thought miserably. She closed her eyes; memories whisked her back to the day when she’d come from New York to Boston.
She’d been a frightened, lonely, and devastated child of five whose parents were killed when lightning struck a tree beneath which they’d been picnicking. She’d watched them die, and the unmitigated horror of it had nearly destroyed her.
Lillian and Upton’s unwavering love had saved her. They’d been newlyweds at the time, ready to start the Peabody family. But because they believed Theodosia needed their undivided attention, they’d chosen to postpone having children. And no doubt, it had taken most of their savings to provide for her.
Lillian, guided by maternal instincts, had taught Theodosia the feminine arts that a mother shares with her daughter. And Upton, a distinguished Harvard professor, had seen to her academic education. The man was a true genius, and thanks to him, she was every bit as brilliant as he. Indeed, her intelligence surpassed that of many of his Harvard colleagues and had gained her much recognition throughout the academic world.
Patiently, willingly, Upton and Lillian provided her with their love, knowledge, home—everything they had to give, sharing nothing at all with the children they’d yet to have.
And now those children would never be born. “Theodosia?” Upton took her chin in his hand. “What letter are you talking about?”
She blinked, then looked up at him. “Letter?”
“You said you’d been reading a letter while strolling in the Common.”
“Oh.” She showed him the envelope. “Dr. Wallaby’s letter.”
Upton brightened visibly. “Finally. I knew Eugene would answer you. He wants to interview you, of course.”
His heartfelt confidence in her future intensified her guilt. “It’s the very best of news, Upton,” she murmured.
“Theodosia?” Lillian rubbed sleep from her eyes and lifted her head from the mound of pillows. “Come here, darling.”
Upton whispered a few words of caution into Theodosia’s ear. “You know full well how she will endeavor to conceal her grief from you. Spare her from having to discuss her loss right now. Instead, share your glad tidings with her. I’ve no doubt she will be overjoyed to hear them.”
Theodosia crossed the room to the bed and smiled into her sister’s big brown eyes. Like a shimmering fan of gold, Lillian’s hair lay spread over the mound of white satin pillows; Theodosia fingered one bright curl, feeling as though she were peering at her own reflection in a mirror. But for their sixteen-year age difference, she and Lillian might have been twins.
