Dacey: Bride of North Carolina (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 12) (9 page)

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Authors: Shanna Hatfield

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #Forever Love, #Victorian Era, #Western, #Fifth In Series, #Saga, #Fifty-Books, #Forty-Five Authors, #Newspaper Ad, #Short Story, #American Mail-Order Bride, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Marriage Of Convenience, #Christian, #Religious, #Faith, #Inspirational, #Factory Burned, #Pioneer, #North Carolina, #Conniving Mother, #Reluctant Groom, #Family Plantation, #Past Issues, #Asheville, #New Beginning, #Simple Farmer, #Misunderstanding, #Unknown Existence

BOOK: Dacey: Bride of North Carolina (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 12)
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Braxton threw back his head and laughed as he spun Dacey around the dance floor. Several indulgent glances turned their way, except for Miranda Beaudry and her friends. They huddled in a corner, tossing frosty glares his direction.

When the waltz finished, Braxton hesitated to release Dacey to her next dance partner. Since it was his father, though, he felt somewhat assured she’d be in good hands.

Braxton danced with his mother, then some of her friends while Dacey went from one dance partner to the next.

However, the moment Ernie Howell cut in, Braxton saw Dacey glancing around for him, sending a silent plea for help.

Unable to extricate himself from his current dance partner without causing a scene, Braxton caught Jackson’s eye as he stood with a group of young men. He tipped his head Dacey’s direction. Jackson took the unspoken cue.

Quickly striding across the room, he tapped Ernie on the shoulder and cut in, sweeping Dacey into a lively polka.

As the evening progressed, Braxton let down his guard, pleased to see most everyone welcomed Dacey with open arms.

Although both he and Beatrice encouraged her to be herself, she’d been very careful about her speech and manners. It had to be as wearing on her nerves as it had been on his, watching her hold part of herself back for fear of making a social misstep.

Tired of the noise around him, Braxton opened a side door and strode out onto the balcony.

In the light spilling from the ballroom and the moon overhead, he noticed a figure leaning against the railing in the shadows.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.” He turned to go, but the voice that carried through the darkness made him stop.

“You ain’t bothering me, buster.”

He smiled and stepped behind Dacey, placing a warm hand on her back. “What are you doing out here, honey? You’ll catch a chill without a coat.”

“It’s hotter than blazes in there and I needed a moment of quiet and some fresh air.” Dacey looked at him over her shoulder and straightened. “I hope that’s okay.”

Braxton nodded and looked out at the peaceful night. He moved beside her, resting his elbows on the railing. “It’s perfectly fine. That’s the reason I escaped out here for a few moments.”

“We’re quite a pair, ain’t we?” Dacey teased, playfully bumping his arm with hers.

Although her words were meant in fun, Braxton took them to heart. He and Dacey were a well-suited pair.

The fact they came from entirely different worlds didn’t matter to him. Dacey shared his sense of humor, his obsession for horses, and they’d even read many of the same books. Stubborn, opinionated, hard working, and loyal were traits they had in common.

When he was with her, he felt unconquerable, as if he could do anything in the world. She made him laugh and think, dream and feel.

More than anything, he wanted her always to be a part of his life. Without giving a thought to his actions, he gathered her in his arms, drawing her against his chest.

“Dacey?”

“Yes?” she whispered, gazing up at him in the muted light. She’d imagined his kiss so many times, she hesitated to believe it might actually happen. The entire evening had been a wonderful dream. The only thing that would make it better was for Braxton to press his lips to hers.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Dacey Jo Butler.” His head lowered toward hers, but he stopped when his mouth was a breath of space away from hers. “I want to kiss you in the worst way.”

In impatient agony, she smiled. “What are you waitin’ on, buster?”

Softly, his mouth brushed over hers. Her hands trailed up his arms and curled around the back of his neck.

He wrapped both arms around her, lifting her off her feet as the kiss went from tender and sweet to overflowing with decadent passion.

Completely captivated, his lips teased and coaxed hers until they both were breathless.

He started to lift his head, to apologize for his fervent attention to her mouth, but she bracketed his face with her hands and engaged him in a kiss that kicked every bit of his sense right out of his head.

Time stopped as their lips blended again and again until a noise at the doorway made her gasp. Braxton reluctantly set her back on her feet.

Jackson cleared his throat to hide a chuckle. “Your mother is looking for you, Brax. She was concerned because she couldn’t find Dacey. I see you’ve got everything under control.” Jackson turned around, still amused. “I think I’ll go find myself a cup of punch.”

“Punch. That’s a great idea,” Braxton said, desperate for anything to clear his thoughts. He took Dacey’s hand in his, prepared to lead her back into the ballroom.

She squeezed his fingers, but didn’t follow when he moved toward the door.

“Do you mind if I stay out here just a little while longer?”

He stepped close and brushed his thumb across her just-kissed lips. “Not at all, honey. Just don’t tarry too long. The temperature is dropping and I don’t want you to catch a chill.”

“I won’t.” Dacey watched him return inside the ballroom. She needed a moment alone to absorb the notion that Braxton Douglas had just kissed her more thoroughly and completely than she ever dared imagine.

Giddy with pure bliss, she turned to gaze into the night. A sense of rightness, of being where she belonged filled her as she lifted her face up to the clear sky filled with stars.

About to fly apart from the joy filling her heart, Dacey wrapped her arms around her middle and sighed contentedly.

“He doesn’t really love you, you know. You’re just another conquest to Braxton.”

Dacey spun around, shocked by the words of the woman standing behind her. She could make out blond hair and a dazzling yellow gown that sparkled in the light from the ballroom. She vaguely remembered Beatrice introducing the woman as Miss Beaudry with a whispered warning that Miranda’s tongue was sharp on both sides and prone to cutting remarks.

Rather than acknowledge the woman, Dacey hurried past her to return inside. The girl grabbed her arm in a fierce hold, stopping her progress.

“I’m only trying to help you, Miss Butler,” the woman said in a syrupy voice. “Braxton has quite a reputation of pursuing girls until they give him what he wants. When he’s satisfied, he moves on, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake.”

Hurt, Dacey yanked her arm from the girl’s grasp. “Braxton isn’t like that. Not at all. He’s kind and generous and…”

“Charming and sweet, plying you with praise and making you feel like the most important person in the world.” Miranda twirled the fan on her wrist around and around before giving Dacey a sympathetic look. “It’s all an act, Miss Butler. The only thing Braxton wants is to, well… it’s not something to discuss in polite company. But it all starts with a kiss under the stars.”

Caught off guard by the fact Miranda knew he’d kissed her, doubts began to assail Dacey. What if the woman spoke the truth? What if Braxton didn’t care about her and was just using her as a means to an end that would leave her devastated?

Miranda looped her hand around Dacey’s arm, moving closer to the ballroom door. “Don’t feel badly, Miss Butler. You aren’t the first girl to be taken in by Braxton’s good looks and silver tongue. Nor shall you be the last. Really, it’s a pity his mother indulged him to the point that he’s a…” Miranda leaned close and dropped her voice to a whisper, “seducer.”

Dacey gave her a shocked look of disbelief as they entered the ballroom.

“It’s true, dear. If you need more proof, just ask around. You’ll find any number of girls who’ve barely escaped his amorous clutches,” Miranda said, tilting her head toward a group of nearby young women. “We must protect each other from a beast like Braxton.”

Numb, Dacey excused herself. She made it to the punch table and accepted a cup of the cold, fruity drink from one of the staff.

After emptying the cup, she turned and watched Braxton dancing with a tall, dark-haired woman.

The two of them appeared quite fond of each other. Pangs of jealousy pricked Dacey when Braxton leaned closer and said something that made them both laugh.

As the dance ended, he settled his hand on the woman’s waist and guided her off the dance floor.

Maybe the vile words Miranda Beaudry spoke were true. Maybe Braxton planned to take what he could from her then move on to his next victim. If he was such a ruthless cad, it would explain why he’d never wed.

Dacey stared as a housemaid approached the woman and Braxton carrying a little boy who looked exactly like him.

Braxton took the boy and tossed him into the air, making him smile. He carried the youngster over to where Beatrice chatted with several older women. She took the child and kissed his cheek before the dark-haired woman lifted the boy in her arms and tenderly held him as she left the room.

“I see you noticed Braxton’s son,” Miranda said from beside Dacey.

“Son?” Dacey squeaked, not ready to believe what she’d seen.

“Oh, I imagine there’s more than that one,” Miranda said, making the two girls with her nod in agreement.

Dacey found it impossible to breathe. The air in the ballroom suddenly seemed stifling. Drawing on the last shred of dignity she possessed, she nodded to the women beside her. “Please excuse me Miss Beaudry, Miss Cedric, Miss Cash. Enjoy your evening.”

With as much decorum as she could muster, Dacey strode from the ballroom with her head high, shoulders back, and her heart breaking into a million little pieces.

Unable to remember how to make it back to the main part of the house through the maze of halls and turns, she hurried down the porch steps and across the lawn to the front door. Upon entering, she raced up the stairs to her room and collapsed on her bed in tears.

Even Cornelia’s comforting hand on her back and the maid’s genuine concern couldn’t get her to stop crying long enough to explain.

“Please, Cornelia. Just help me get out of this wretched dress.”

Once Cornelia helped her remove the finery, Dacey gave her a hug then pushed her toward the door. “Please, Corny, leave me alone. Just leave me be.”

Cornelia left the room, but remained in the hall, worried for her distraught friend.

Chapter Ten

 

“Have you seen Dacey?” Braxton asked Jackson as he surveyed the ballroom.

He thought he’d seen Miranda talking to her earlier, but by the time he made it to the punch table, both women had disappeared. Given the opportunity, he had no doubt Miranda would release her venomous tongue on Dacey.

“I haven’t seen her for about an hour, Brax. Not since I caught the two of you out on the balcony.” Jackson chuckled. “For a moment, you looked like you might strike a blow to my jaw when I unknowingly interrupted your um… interlude.”

Braxton scowled at him and continued studying the crowd, hoping for a glance of a teal satin gown and auburn curls.

“Come on, Brax.” Jackson clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you just admit the truth.”

“The truth?” Braxton asked, distracted that he still hadn’t located Dacey.

“Yes, the truth. You can pretend all you like that she doesn’t matter to you, but you’re in love with Dacey Butler. Anyone with eyes in their head can see you’ve fallen for the girl.” Braxton’s look of surprise brought another round of chuckles from his friend. “Everyone is talking about the sparks flying between the two of you when you get within arm’s length of each other.”

“Is that so?” Braxton walked toward his mother.

“It’s a fact, my friend.” Jackson grinned and asked a pretty brown-haired girl for a dance while Braxton approached Beatrice and a group of her friends.

Politely, he waited for a lull in the conversation before touching his mother’s arm.

“Oh, hello, dear. Are you having fun?” Beatrice asked, affectionately patting his cheek.

“Not at the moment. I can’t seem to locate Dacey.” Braxton spoke quietly, bending down close to his mother’s ear.

“Well, we must find her, then.” Beatrice took his hand in hers and the two of them walked the length and breadth of the ballroom, but still couldn’t find Dacey.

“Perhaps she didn’t feel well or became weary. I’ll ask Caroline to check with Cornelia.” Beatrice turned to summon her maid, but Braxton stopped her.

“I’ll go check myself, Mother. She was warm earlier. Maybe she took ill and didn’t want to worry us.”

“I certainly hope she’s well, Brax. I have such a fun day planned tomorrow now that Charlotte and Billy are here.”

“I’m sure she’ll enjoy it. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go back to the main wing and see if she’s there. You know how she likes to sit in the library by the fire of an evening.” Braxton kissed his mother’s velvety cheek then rushed out of the ballroom and down the steps to the lawn. It was faster to run around the outside of the house than meander through the maze of hallways to reach the bedrooms on the third floor.

He raced inside the front door of the house and checked both the blue and gold parlors, but Dacey wasn’t in either room. The library stood empty and she wasn’t in the music room, so he rushed upstairs. He stopped short when he came upon Cornelia sitting outside Dacey’s door, fretfully wringing her hands together.

“Cornelia? What’s the matter? Where’s Dacey?” he asked, noting the concern on the girl’s face.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Mr. Douglas. Dacey returned in tears a while ago and won’t talk to me. She asked me to leave her alone, but she’s been crying the whole time.” Cornelia pointed to the door where the soft sound of sobs was barely audible in the hall.

“You go on and rest. I’ll take care of her.” Braxton smiled at the young woman then opened Dacey’s door.

“Dacey?” He stepped inside the room and noticed her prone position on the bed with her face pressed into a pillow while her hair tumbled around her shoulders and down her back. The light from the bedside lamp created valleys of dark red and peaks of gold in the tresses. His hands ached to run through the silky curls. “Are you unwell?”

She lifted her tear-streaked face and glared at him. “Leave me alone, Braxton Douglas. I never want to speak to you again.”

“What’s wrong, honey?”

Quickly pushing herself upright, she glared at him and used the sleeve of her nightgown to swipe at her tears. “Don’t you honey me, you… you… cad.”

Confused by her anger and name-calling, he tried to recall something he’d done to upset her. Unable to think of little else beyond the fantastical kisses they’d shared on the balcony, he couldn’t come up with anything.

Suddenly, he wondered if Miranda had spoken to her, uttered some untruth that wounded her. “Did someone say something to upset you?” He strode to the bed in a few long strides and placed a hand on her shoulder. “If you spoke with…”

As though his touch pained her, she winced. With a rough jerk away from him, she rolled off the side of the bed and scrambled to her feet.

“Get out!” She jabbed a finger toward the door. “Get out of my room and leave me be!”

Afraid she might grow hysterical in her current state of distress, Braxton quietly backed out the door and closed it. He turned around to find Cornelia still waiting in the hall.

“Is there anything I can do to help, sir?” Cornelia asked.

Braxton shook his head. “As you probably heard, she won’t have anything to do with me either.” He sighed and ran a hand though his hair, staring at the closed bedroom door. Finally, he turned back to Cornelia. “She didn’t say anything to you when she returned?”

“No, sir. I helped her change then she asked me to leave her alone. I didn’t know what to do. She seems so unlike herself.” Cornelia continued wringing her hands together.

“I suppose for now we should abide by her wishes.” Braxton offered the faithful little maid an encouraging smile. “Go on and get some rest, Cornelia. I’m sure things will be back to normal in the morning.”

At least Braxton prayed they would.

 

~~*~~

 

“Where’s Dacey?” Beatrice asked as she breezed into the breakfast room. A dark-haired child who looked like a miniature version of Braxton rode on her hip.

“I haven’t seen her yet this morning,” Braxton said, rising to his feet and tickling the boy beneath his chin. “She wasn’t in her room and Cornelia said she mentioned something about going out to work with the horses. You know she often does that, so maybe all is well this morning.”

Although Braxton tried to convince the others, the gnawing anxiety in his gut warned him the storm with Dacey had not fully passed.

Determined to put on a good face, he took the little one from his mother and tossed him in the air. “And how are you today, Billy? Are you excited to spend the day with your grandmother?”

“Yes, sir.” Billy nodded his head and looked at Braxton with stormy gray eyes so like his. “Will you come, too?”

“I’ll join you later, but I have some things I must attend to first.” Braxton set the child on a chair beside him and pulled it close to his. He smiled at the boy’s mother as she took a seat across the table from him.  “You’re looking lovely this morning, Charlotte.”

“Thank you, Brax. I appreciate the compliment.” The beautiful woman winked at him. “Please, sugar, won’t you join us? It’s been so long since we’ve had a good visit.”

“I really must see to a few matters, but I’ll do my best to join you this afternoon,” Braxton said. He buttered a piece of toast for Billy and set it on his plate. Affectionately, he ruffled the child’s hair before filling his own plate.

Charlotte offered him a becoming pout as she stirred sugar into her tea. “We hardly see you, Braxton. Billy and I miss spending time with you.”

“I know, and for that I’m sorry. I really will try to get to Greenville with more frequency in the future.”

From her hiding spot in the hall, Dacey watched as Braxton gave the woman named Charlotte a tender glance across the table. An undeniable look of pure love was on his face as he smiled at the child.

Tears stung her eyes as she backed away from the door and ran upstairs.

Arising early that morning, she thought perhaps she had overreacted the previous evening.

After going out to check on the horses and riding one of her favorites, she decided to give Braxton a chance to explain what Miranda had said, especially about him having a son.

She’d hurried to wash and change before joining the family in the breakfast room. The sight of Braxton tending to the child as he conversed with the dark-haired woman he’d been with last night caused her to hide just outside the door.

Swiftly concluding she hadn’t overreacted, she hastened to her room and began stuffing her belongings into the trunk on the floor of the closet. As she packed, she formulated a plan.

With Braxton’s mistress and son there, she couldn’t stay. She wouldn’t stay.

No one with a speck of sense or an ounce of pride would want to reside under the same roof as a man like that.

Thoughts of all his kindnesses, of all the entire family had done to make her feel welcome and loved poked at her heart, but she shoved the memories aside.

Fury added speed to her movements as she filled her valise with a change of clothes and her most necessary items.

Careful not to take anything Beatrice or Braxton had given her, she glanced around the room and made sure she hadn’t left anything of hers behind.

Resolute, she sat at the writing desk. She penned a note to Beatrice, another to Cornelia, then copied a forwarding address from a slip of paper she’d tucked into her coat pocket.

Three men interested in purchasing horses from Braxton had stopped by the previous week while Dacey worked with one of the colts in a pen near the barn.

One of the men had been quite taken with her ability and offered her a position on his horse farm if she ever needed one.

As Dacey once again found herself without a place to call home, she decided to take him up on the offer. If she could get into town, she’d send him a telegram then purchase a train ticket to his farm near Hendersonville. Cornelia would see that her trunk arrived at the farm.

Dacey opened her reticule and counted out the exact amount she thought it would take to send the trunk. She placed the money with the address on top of the trunk. Carefully setting her reticule inside her valise, she buckled the top closed.

Rather than risk anyone noticing her leaving, she stepped onto the balcony and surveyed the lawn below. No one was in sight, so she dropped her valise into the shrubs two stories down. She’d fish it out later when she was ready to leave.

Back inside the warmth of her room, Dacey experienced a moment of regret. She’d never had such a fine room, especially one with a bathroom. She’d miss the conveniences Bramble Hall offered, but most of all she’d miss the people.

Cornelia and Caroline were her friends.

Beatrice, and even Daniel, had become like parents to her.

Her heart skipped a beat as she thought about Braxton. Oh, how she loved him, loved everything about him.

And that was why she had to leave, immediately.

If she didn’t, she might be the next girl to succumb to his considerable charms. No matter how bad things seemed at the present, they’d be far worse when he tired of her and sent her away.

No, she’d leave now while nothing was wounded except her broken heart and a little piece of her pride for not realizing his true character sooner.

Still, it was hard to reconcile the Braxton she’d come to know with the womanizing rake Miss Beaudry described.

Regardless, the proof of his actions sat at the breakfast table next to him.

Determined to move forward and not look back at the wonderful weeks she spent at Bramble Hall, Dacey studied her room one last time then walked out the door, shutting it behind her.

Quietly, she crept along the hall to the servant’s stairs and made her way to the kitchen where she talked Cook into giving her bread slathered with apple butter.

That was one more thing she’d sorely miss. Although she’d never tasted apple butter before arriving in Asheville, it took no time at all for her develop a fondness for the autumn-flavored treat.

“The family is still eating breakfast, miss. You should join them,” Cook said as she handed Dacey two slices of warm bread spread with a thick layer of apple butter.

“No. I want to get to work early this morning.” Dacey smiled fondly at the cook. “Thank you for being so kind to me and for making such delicious food.”

“You’re most welcome, Miss Butler.” Cook gave her a baffled glance. “Is there something…”

“Have a wonderful morning. I’ll see you later.” Impulsively, Dacey hugged the woman and hustled outside, munching on the bread as she hurried around the house and retrieved her valise from the bushes.

She kept to the shadows and crept toward the river. From riding horses all over the property with Braxton, she knew she could follow it then cut through the apple orchard to take a mile off her walk into town.

Although the sun shone overhead, it was cold out. By the time she reached town, her fingers felt numb even through her gloves.

The extra pair of socks she’d donned to keep her feet warm caused her boots to pinch her toes. Convinced she’d developed at least one blister, she didn’t have time to worry about it as she headed directly to the train depot.

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