Regency Romance: An Intriguing Invitation (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Romance) (65 page)

BOOK: Regency Romance: An Intriguing Invitation (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Romance)
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Chapter six

 

     Following up on these words a few days later, Clayton asked MariAnne if he could escort her to a barn dance scheduled to take place that weekend at a nearby ranch; one that each Saturday seemed to form the very focus of the Austin social scene.

     Taking her into town to visit the shop of a premiere dressmaker, he promised not to look as his lady friend purchased a gown for the event; yet when the night of the dance finally arrived, he knew that the rather extravagant purchase had been worth every coin.

      Shining resplendent in a glorious hue of sweet pearl pink, the glowing gown was culled from pure cotton calico and boasted a fitted bodice, a full hoop skirt, and an elegant trim of braided lace that lined its sleeves, bodice, high collar and flowing skirt.

     Arranging her dark hair in a graceful mass of ringlets that served to frame her heart shaped face, MariAnne thrilled as her doting date presented her with a pair of shiny pearl earrings; her gaze illuminating as it beheld his own brand of evening wear finery—one that seemed far removed from the shirt and jeans he generally wore in his role as a country rancher.

     Dazzling her in a sleek ebony duster coat with a cotton surface and corduroy collar and cuffs, the gentleman also boasted matching frontier pants with a high waist and a button fly, along with a smart black cinch. A form fitting white cotton shirt completed this distinguished look, along with a sharp bolo tie.

     “You’re beautiful,” he praised her, leading her by the hand into the tall apple red structure that would serve as the site of that evening’s dance.

     “Um, so are you!” marveled a dazed MariAnne, wondering at the transformation that had morphed her gentleman rancher into a frontier prince.

     Soon the couple engaged once again in a genuine lover’s waltz; this time moving in radiant tandem across the surface of a heather strewn dance floor.

     Their public surroundings dissolved around them as their bodies moved closer together; swirling as one across the floor as they stared deep into one another’s eyes.

     “You make me feel like a princess,” MariAnne praised Clayton, wrapping her arms around his muscled shoulders as she rested her head on his hard massive chest.

     Clayton shook his head.

     “You are a princess, MariAnne. You always have been—you just needed someone to bring it out in you,” he told her, adding as he clutched her tiny waist between his hands and seared her with a meaningful glance, “And I am so blessed to be that man. You make me laugh, you work so hard by my side in the fields and the house, and you challenge me every day to think and to learn.” He paused here, adding as he pulled her closer still, “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, in every way—and with your kind consent Ma’am, I would like nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.”

     “Now that I have found my princess, I’ll be dag gummed if I ever let her go,” he declared, adding as he leaned forward to touch her lips with a tender kiss,“I want to marry you, MariAnne.”

     “So sorry to tell you, Deputy, but that won’t be possible. This lady just happens to be married to me.”

     MariAnne froze in Clayton’s arms as she heard the voice of nightmares; the low, cold tones she’d hoped against hope never to hear again.

“Leon,” she breathed, raising her head to behold a being who seemed more a demon than a mortal man; a short, stocky man with oily hair and menacing bloodshot eyes.

     “It’s been a good bit since I’ve seen you, dear wife,” Leon sneered, reaching forth to clamp down a hard possessive hand on the surface of MariAnne’s slender shoulder. “I’ve been searching for you day and night, and now—finally—we are reunited.”

     Clayton had heard enough.

     “Do not touch her!” he screeched, knocking Leon’s hand from MariAnne’s shoulder and stepping hard and fast between them. “Leave her alone!”

     Leon stared at him for a long, quiet moment; his gaze turning mocking and depreciating as he told the younger man, “She is my wife, Boy, not yours. And as much as you might try to play the role of the pathetic white knight, saving MariAnne from her scoundrel of a husband, you cannot come between a man and his property.”

     Clayton shook his head.

     “No man’s wife is his property,” he reminded Leon, adding as he held up a firm for emphasis, “And when a man breaks his marriage contract by abusing and mistreating his wife, then he surrenders all claim to her.” He paused here, adding as he pointed his authoritative finger straight in Leon’s face, “The contract that bonded you to this magnificent woman is null and void, Mr. Campbell. And, speaking frankly, you were a complete and total fool to let her go.”

     Leon frowned.

     “Stop spoutin’ nonsense, Boy,” he barked, adding as he pulled himself up to his admittedly impressive height, “I do believe that I could take you in a fight, you varmint—any day of the week. And if you do not step aside immediately and allow me to take what’s rightfully mine, then that is exactly what you will have on your hands: a fight.”

     Clayton grinned.

     “Well if you want a fight, my good man, then you will have one. Just remember that I’ll be bringing both a gun and a badge to this fight—and I am trained and licensed to use both of them,” he pronounced, opening his coat to reveal both in a single smooth flourish.

     His beady eyes widening substantially as they beheld his rival’s polished ivory handled six shooter, Leon stood frozen for a full moment before finally turning away.

     “Fine then, go ahead and take her. Considering the fact that I’ve been biding my time as of late with a couple of lovely saloon girls, I shall be more than pleased to give her the divorce that she so desperately seems to want,” he snapped, adding with a rude gesture in MariAnne’s direction, “The little whore isn’t worth it anyway.”

     Now MariAnne had heard enough.

     “You cretin!” she exclaimed, racing forward to draw back her arm and ball her fist in a threatening manner.

She swore she’d remember and cherish forever the look of abject fear that now crossed her husband’s features; a look that came accompanied by a strangulated moan as she crashed her tiny fist across his jaw—sending him reeling backward through the sheer force of her unleashed, unmitigated rage.

     Regaining his bearings with a pathetic attempt at a moan, a stunned Leon clutched at his bruised jaw as he winced with evident pain; swearing beneath his breath as he straightened his posture and turned dejected in the direction of the door.

     Looking after him with a satisfied smile, MariAnne further reveled in the round of raucous applause that met her bold action; a response delivered by a crowd that obviously shared her poor opinion of her soon to be ex-husband.

     “Feel better now, Sweetheart?” Clayton asked her, taking her hand in his as he graced her with a warm, encouraging smile. “Well I hope that this will make you feel better still.”

     Without further hesitation he took her hands in his, dropping to his knees before her as he reached deep into the pocket of his fine tailored trousers; withdrawing a gleaming diamond ring and holding it upward for her appraisal.

     “My dear MariAnne,” he addressed her, tone both loving and respectful as he asked, “Would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

     MariAnne nodded, her public surroundings dissolving around her as she squeezed Clayton’s fingers between his.

     “I will, my prince,” she told him, adding as she returned his smile, “I love you Clayton, so very much.”

     MariAnne showed her love a few months later; returning with her groom to the barn that served as the site of their grand proposal.

     The organizers of the barn dance offered the use of their site as the setting for their nuptials; adorning the barn’s interior with lustrous arrangements of pure golden roses.

     Standing at the door of the barn, MariAnne’s admiring gaze cast down the length of her beautiful handmade wedding gown; a luxurious dress of ivory satin that sported a rich jacquard pattern, a fitted, lace lined bodice, wide sleeves and a high collar accentuated by streams of rich ebullient lace, and a plethora of elegant ruffles adorning the length of its shining satiny surface.

     “I never did think that I would live to see this day,” she mused in silence, reaching upward to pat the upswept, diamond studded strands of her luxurious ebony hair. “The day that I married for love.”

     Stepping inward into the barn that had morphed into a wedding chapel, she watched with a smile as a laughing Ellie—dressed this day in a formal dress of lilac patterned calico with puffed sleeves and a long full skirt—ran before her on a makeshift aisle layered with a long sheath of scarlet red carpeting, enacting her designated role of flower girl by showering a rain of golden rose petals across the sleek fabric of the carpet. Then she nodded toward the assembled family members who had gathered that day to witness her nuptials; including the parents who had begged her forgiveness for passing her into the hands of a madman like Leon. Now they looked on with quiet pride as their resplendent daughter walked down the length of a second aisle; this time venturing forth to meet the man of her heart.

     Dressed that day in a glorious silver jacquard vest with a matching long string tie and a high brown hat, Clayton also wore a smart, form fitting shirt of white cotton and black silk pantaloons; sporting a luminous white toothed smile to enhance and complete the look.

     And as the hero and his princess joined hands at an altar blooming forth with their favorite yellow roses, both knew that they would never let go.

 

*****

THE END

 

 

 

An Unexpected Gift – An Amish Romance

Though she had been through a lot in the past few months, nothing could prepare her for how she felt now.  Yoder was going to be her new last name, and she hated it.  She felt like she was going to have to become a different person.  And her new first name, Sarah?  It just sounded so old-fashioned.  Her entire life was about to be old-fashioned. 

She thought back at the events that lead her to this.  They made her so angry.  She was determined to give her father an earful during the drive.  Or could she really call it a drive.
A horse and a buggy can drive right?
Sarah couldn’t even believe what was going through her mind.  As she got ready to leave, she picked out the most plain clothes that she could so she would look like the rest of the Amish.  She looked at herself in the mirror.  At the age of sixteen, Sarah was old enough to know that she was attractive and desired by guys.  It is what made her popular at school.  But would Amish guys care about stuff like that?  Weren’t they just interested in a person’s character?  The thought of her appearance not being important made her cringe.

“Honey, are you ready, we have to leave now if are to get there before dark,” yelled Sarah’s father.

“I will be right down,” she said.  Sarah took one last look at her room.  She feared that she would never see it again.  “Alright I am coming.”  She looked at her father and laughed to herself.  He was wearing the most drab and plain garments that she had ever seen. 
This is going to be an absolute joke.

“Do you have your Bible?” Asked Sarah’s father.  His name was now Jacob.  It was formally Lance.  But Lance was much too cool of a name.  It promoted vanity.

“No I don’t have my Bible, I don’t even know where it is,” replied Sarah.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had read it.

“Well you know that you have to carry your Bible around.  At least I think that’s what they do.  Remember these people are very somber and super religious,” explained Jacob.

Sarah had always hated religion.  It wasn’t that she hated God so much.  She would talk to him on occasion.  If he existed that is.  But she hated the hypocrisy within religious circles. 
Thou shalt not commit adultery says the pastor as he is thinking about his many affairs. 
“I know, I am well prepared to put on a false facade that will make the Amish like me.  I can pretend, father.  I am a good fake.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” said her father under his breath. 

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, I am just...nevermind.  This is going to be a big adjustment for everybody,” said Jacob, as he was clearly frustrated.

Sarah was angry.  “Yes it is, and we wouldn’t have to be making this adjustment if it weren’t for you.”  She had planned to speak her mind.  If she regretted it later so be it.  She would regret not speaking her mind more.

“And you don’t think I feel bad about it?”  Her father looked like he was about to explode in anger and frustration, but then restrained himself.  “We can talk on the way there, let’s go.”

Sarah had never been in a buggy before, and she was determined from the get go to hate it.  But now that they were under way she realized that her fears were all founded in truth.  It really was horrible.  It was slow and bumpy and pulled by a horse that stunk.  “Do you even know how to drive a buggy?” She asked her father.

“Do I know how to drive a buggy?  Of course, I learned in auto shop in high school,” he replied sarcastically.  “I don’t know anything about buggies other than a quick video I watched on them.  I am just winging it.”

“Just like you do everything else,” said Sarah. 

“Sarah, are you ever going to forgive me?”  He thought probably not.  What he had done was hardly forgivable.

“You killed mom, dad.  I don’t see how you expect me to ever see you in the same light again.”  Sarah turned her face from him.  The images played through her mind, even though she didn’t want them to.

“I hate it when you put it like that.  You know I didn’t kill her.  I would never do that.  I loved her more than you know.”  Jacob didn’t know what else to say.  He knew that the guilt would never go away, even if he knew he didn’t mean for his wife to die. 

“What did you expect your life decisions to lead to, dad.  You are an alcoholic and a lazy bum.  I can’t even remember the last time that you had a steady job.  Mom had to do everything and she worked so hard to support us.  And now that she is gone we have nothing, and it is all because of you,” Said Sarah, practically screaming at her father.

“I quite drinking Sarah, how many times do I have to tell you that.”

“A lifelong alcoholic who quit drinking a few weeks ago is not a changed man.”  You are just living in your same delusion that you always do.  You are always different today, always going to get a better job. You always promise a better life for us and to treat us better.  Well now we are going to live with people that get excited for midnight barn raisings.  Are you happy now that we have hit rock bottom.  There is no place else for you to drag us.  At least mom escaped this hell that you have created.”  Sarah was now in tears.  She said most of what she wanted.  It felt good to get it off her chest, but also terrible at the same time.  Though part of her did hate her father, part of her still loved him.

There was a long silence after Sarah said those words.  Jacob was too hurt to reply.  He thought about his life, something he didn’t do enough probably.  He had let his family down, he was fully aware.  But his wife’s death was not his fault.  She was the only good thing he had in his life.  Why would he want something bad to happen to her.  But the night she died he was hammered drunk, as was typical.  Had he been sober he would have been able to stop the assailant.  At least that’s what he told himself.  But he was drunk, and could do nothing to help his wife.  Maybe had he been sober, the assailant would have killed him too.  There was no way to know, but the thoughts haunted him.  He would rather have died trying to protect her.

“Do you even know how much farther we have to go,” asked Sarah, breaking the silence.

“I believe we are only about twenty or so minutes out,” replied her father.  They had exited the limits of their town and were now in rolling hills.  They were not really on a road.  Semi organized gravel was more like it.  This made the ride very bumpy.  Sarah hated it.

“Well I hope we get there soon, I feel like I am going to get sick.  Where did you get this thing anyway?”  She asked.

“You will be surprised what you can find online.  It was pretty cheap, which is probably why it is such an awful ride.  I wanted to try to look like anybody else though.  Rolling up in a car would not exactly be welcome.  We are just lucky that your mother had a connection here.  If she didn’t, we would be on the streets or something pretty bad.

“Ya well look at that, mom is still taking care of us after she is gone and you can’t even do that while you are still here.” Sarah still had more pent up vitriol.

“I am doing the best that I can to take care of us now,” said her father.  He was confident that he actually meant it this time.  He really did want to change.  But the only changes he had ever seen in his life were for the worst.  It was as if his life had been in a tailspin for as long as he could remember and there was no way he could stop the negative inertia that plunged him deeper and deeper into places he didn’t want to be.  “We have a place to stay, be thankful for that.”

“Oh I can’t wait to see it,” replied Sarah sarcastically.  When they crested the next hill, her wish was granted. 

The sun was setting on the quaint town of only a few thousand.  It was mostly farmland with barns scattered here and there and trees and rivers and a few lakes.  The houses that she could see looked very primitive and devoid of any luxuries that she was accustomed to.  She fingered the earbuds in her pocket, the last vestige of her previous life.  But the batteries would run out soon, and that would be the end.  She was determined to only use them for special occasions.

“Well here we are,” said father, as they pulled up to one of the houses.  “This is our new home.  It is actually one of the nicer ones here, and the family we are staying with are very good friends with the reverend.  And in a town like this, the reverend is king.”

Sarah got out of the buggy and was pleased to see that the house was not falling apart.  It actually looked to be very well maintained, if not plain.  But plain, she would find, is the way of life for these people.

 

*****

 

“Welcome, you must be Jacob and Sarah,” said a middle aged man.  “My name is Isaiah, you are our guests.  Come, we have a meal prepared for you.”

Jacob and Sarah went inside.  The house could not have been less adorned, but at the same time it had a certain charm to it.  Sarah couldn’t quite put her finger on on what it was. 

“I have prepared my favorite dish,” said Isaiah’s wife. “It is roast duck with a hint of cherry flavoring.”

“I thought you people didn’t believe in flavoring anything,” said Sarah.

There was brief silence at the awkwardness and rudeness of the question.  Her father gave her a scowl.

“Actually, we believe that life should be full of flavor.  We just have different tastes than a lot of people,” she said with grace and kindness.  Sarah was caught off guard that she didn’t take more offense.

“I should have introduced my wife earlier,” said Isaiah.  “This is Rebekah.  She is the most industrious wife a man could ever have and for that I feel very blessed.”  Isaiah looked around and then yelled out the window.  “Ezekiel you can finish up with your chores later, we have guests over...Ezekiel is my son,” he explained.

Ezekiel walked in just moments later.  He looked to be in his late teens.  Sarah thought that he was a very good looking young man. 
Too bad he is Amish
, she thought to herself.  Everyone sat at the table and Isaiah led them in prayer.

“Great father in heaven, we thank you for the gifts that you have bestowed upon us.  It is not by our hands that we are so blessed, but by Yours Father.  We thank you for our guests, and that they had safe travels here this evening.  We pray Father that they will feel comfortable here and that we will be able to serve them to the best of our abilities.  In your name, we pray.”  Everyone said ‘Amen’ except for Sarah.  She wasn’t going to have anything to do with this religion stuff.  Not after what had happened to her mother.  If there was a God that actually cared for her, why would he have let so many bad things happen to her?

“This is really good,” said her father. 

“We are really blessed,” replied Rebekah, unwilling to take credit for it.  Sarah had to agree, though.  The meal was incredible. The duck was juicy and the cherry flavoring added to it in a way that she had never imagined food tasting before.  The potatoes were also delicious. 
Well they eat all organic, right.  It shouldn’t be a surprise their food tastes good. 

After they finished supper, Isaiah showed Sarah and her father to their room.  It was a single room that they would have to share.  At least there were two beds. 
Wow we are definitely going to be spending a lot of time together.

“Thank you so much for taking us,” her father said to Jacob.

“It is our pleasure.  What would life be without guests.  Furthermore, your wife was quite a wonderful lady and we are honored to help her out any way that we can.  She is with the Lord now, and I know this is what she would want,” replied Isaiah.  He then left to go help with cleaning up the kitchen, leaving Sarah and her dad by themselves.

“Well this place isn’t so bad,” said Sarah’s father.  He wanted to make Sarah feel better.  He could tell that she was not enjoying herself so far. 

“Dad, this place couldn’t be any worse.  Well except for the food was pretty good.”  She got into her bed.  It was hard and stiff and not anything like she grew to expect in a bed. 
How could anyone get a good night’s sleep in one of these things. 
It was also cold, but the covers were surprisingly warm.

“Well what about Ezekiel.  Did you think that he was cute,” asked her father.  He knew that she would be embarrassed by the question.

“Why would you ask that.  You know I don’t like talking about boys.  He is just another one of these weird people and I want nothing to do with him.  I am going to sleep, goodnight.”  Sarah grabbed her earbuds and put them on.  She figured that since she had never felt so miserable in her life, that this was a special enough of an occasion to use them.  She listened to her favorite songs, the ones that her mother used to sing to her when she was little.  Her favorite was a hymn. 
What was it called?  Oh ya.  “Amazing Grace.”
  I soothed her, and reminded of her when she was younger and still had hope for the world.

 

*****

 

When Sarah woke up the next morning, her father was already gone.  At her age, there was no such thing as being a morning person.  She stumbled to the bathroom, but when she got there, she noticed that there was no mirror. 
How am I supposed to see what I look like? 
When she came out, she noticed the smell of breakfast, and unsurprisingly, it was wonderful.

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