The Timeless Love Romance Collection Read online

  As they danced around the room, Devlin continued to watch them, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

  “Devlin?”

  He looked down to find Constance by his side. Straightening, he smiled and held out his hand. “My dance, I believe.”

  They twirled among the other couples, Devlin searching the crowd. His attention was caught by something Constance had just said. “What did you say?”

  “I said, I told Prudence that if she didn’t always hide behind those dowdy day dresses of hers that she would be charming. It would seem the young men here think so, also.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  She looked surprised. “Heavens, no. I’m thrilled. Prudence needs to be married and have a family. She’s the type to have a whole brood of children.”

  “And you’re not?”

  She gave him an appalled look. “One or two, maybe, but not more than that.” She shivered delicately.

  Devlin studied the beauty he held in his arms and wondered what had ever attracted him to her in the first place. She was selfish and spoiled and, on top of that, vain. To be tied to one such as her for a lifetime appalled him almost as much as the thought of children had appalled her.

  “Do you know who that man is?” Constance questioned, her eyes following a blond giant walking around the room, introducing himself to people.

  “Yes,” he told her, smiling down at her. “Would you like to be introduced?”

  Color flooded her face, but Devlin paid it no heed as he danced them to where the stranger stood, talking to his cousin Terence.

  He made the introductions brief. “Gaylord, this is Miss Constance Hilliard. Constance, Mr. Gaylord Fyfe.”

  Devlin left them together and then took Terence by the arm and propelled him across the room. “Isn’t it about time you danced with Jessica?”

  Surprised, Terence frowned at his cousin. “I thought you said it would be better to ignore her. Besides, I don’t want to get involved with a suffragette.”

  “One dance won’t kill you,” Devlin argued, watching for an opening before pushing his cousin to Jessica’s side.

  Devlin then made his way to where Prudence was still talking to one of the young men she had danced with earlier. He seemed engrossed in what she had to say, so much so that neither of them heard Devlin’s approach. He tapped the young man on the shoulder.

  “My dance, I believe, Miss Prudence.”

  He gathered her into his arms, waltzing her around the room and smiling down at her briefly. “Enjoying yourself?”

  Her narrowed gaze watched him thoughtfully. “Immensely. How ever did you manage it?”

  “Manage what?” he asked, nearly choking at her obvious insight.

  “I saw you talking to those gentlemen. It didn’t take much to put two and two together.”

  He grinned down at her unabashedly. “Surely you don’t think I had anything to do with your obvious popularity.”

  Shaking her head in exasperation, she turned to watch the other couples sailing around the room. When she frowned, Devlin followed her look toward Jessica and Terence who were having a heated discussion that was rapidly drawing attention to them.

  Devlin danced them in that direction. As they drew closer, they could hear the heated exchange.

  “What kind of man are you?” Jessica sneered, her look flicking over Terence disdainfully.

  “The question is, what kind of woman are you? I’ve heard of these so-called suffragettes. Rather loose women, so I am told.”

  “Of all the nerve!”

  Devlin stepped between them. He gave Prudence a quick look, and she interpreted it correctly. She pulled Jessica away, while Devlin took his cousin in the opposite direction. Tears shimmered just beneath the surface of Jessica’s eyes and Prudence knew that Terence’s words had stung.

  “He didn’t mean it,” she told her sister soothingly.

  “I don’t care if he did. I hate men! All men!” She ran out of the room, and Prudence rolled her eyes at her sister’s histrionics.

  Hoping no one else had noticed her departure, Prudence found her mother and gave her an edited version of what had happened. Her mother quickly left the room. Prudence only hoped that her mother could do something with Jessica. She was still so young and had a lot of growing up to do.

  Sighing, Prudence made her way to where the decorated valentine boxes waited for their cards. She lifted the top of the box that had her name on it, and then dropped it again. Already there were a few cards inside, and Prudence knew they would be from her family. No one else had ever given her a valentine, except once at a Valentine party her mother had given when they were just children.

  She could still remember that card. A penny dreadful, they were called. How did the verse go? Oh, yes:

  Some are lovely as a rose,

  Others smell divine,

  But you could never find a clod

  To be your Valentine.

  How hurt she had been, especially when the young boy who had given it to her had started laughing and the others had joined in. What had hurt so much was that he had pretended to be her friend, and then she had found out that it was just so he could get close to Constance. At ten years of age, her little heart had been broken.

  She lifted a beautiful card from inside the box, awed by the handcrafted design. Slowly, she stroked her fingers across the card, touching the mother of pearl petals on the roses and the silk fern used as leaves.

  Hesitantly, she opened the card. She knew she was not supposed to until her mother gave the word, but something about this card had her turning the page without another thought. Probably it was from Constance. Hadn’t she said she had bought all of her cards?

  The verse inside was written in beautiful scroll lettering.

  ’Tis you I look for when I search for the stars,

  For surely the diamonds of your eyes are set in the heaven’s glory.

  But, alas, my love, your jewels are for another,

  You can never be mine, thus a sad ending to a beautiful story.

  It was signed, “A secret admirer.”

  Devlin was there to catch Prudence when she crumpled slowly to the floor.

  Chapter 3

  Prudence squirmed as she settled into her pew. She knew it was her imagination, but it seemed everyone was looking at her. After last night’s party, she thought she would never be able to hold her head up in public again. Gritting her teeth, she decided to try and forget last night’s fiasco. Easier said than done.

  The first face she had seen when she had opened her eyes after her faint had been Devlin’s, his worried eyes staring down into her own confused ones. She had not asked where she was or what had happened, like some melodramatic female in a novel. Instead, she had glared up at Devlin and told him in no uncertain terms, “Don’t you dare laugh.”

  His lips had twitched in response, his eyes taking on a merry sparkle, but all he had said was, “I assure you, miss, that I had no such intentions.”

  Her mother had come into the room, wringing her hands in agitation, her father following with a glass of water. After that, Devlin had disappeared, and Prudence had been sent to bed.

  Of course, the card had caused no end of speculation. Even her father watched her with a somewhat suspicious eye. Who had sent it, and why? Or was it perhaps meant for one of her sisters?

  Without meaning to, she began to search the faces around her, wondering who might have sent it. When a young man looked up and caught her eye, then turned hastily away, Prudence sent up a silent prayer. Oh, please, Lord, not James Cavell.

  Not that there was anything particularly wrong with James. He was nice, kind, and quite handsome in fact, but his only interest lay in shipping and ships. Prudence did not think he had another thought in his head.

  Her family’s pew was empty this morning, except for Prudence herself. The others had chosen to remain abed, but Prudence never missed an opportunity to attend church services. She loved the singing and the preaching
, and oh, just everything.

  The stained-glass shepherd smiled down on her, and Prudence thought again how her Puritan ancestors would have disapproved of such a symbolic display. As for herself, she loved the color and light. Her artistic soul embraced such beauty.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a commotion at her side. Turning, she fully expected to see her father, for he rarely missed a service, either. Instead, she met the laughing brown eyes of Devlin Drake.

  Surprised, Prudence could only stare. As far as she knew, Devlin never set foot inside a church. She knew it had something to do with the Civil War now past, but so far she had been unable to get him to talk about it. Her questions were answered a moment later when Terence appeared next to Devlin.

  “Terence would like to know if we might join you in your family’s pew today,” Devlin told her.

  Prudence smiled at the young man being discussed. “Of course.” She moved to the side to allow both men access to the pew, but excusing himself, Devlin stepped over her feet and Prudence found herself sandwiched between the two gentlemen.

  Prudence could already hear the whispers start, and her face colored hotly. Pulling the hymnal to her lap, she opened it and began studying it as though it held the means of salvation in its depths.

  She almost dropped the hymnal when the young blond giant she had seen Constance with at the party stepped up to the pulpit. Her eyes widened in surprise when he introduced himself and informed them that he would be replacing Brother Michaels, who had chosen at this point in his life to retire due to failing health.

  Prudence felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She loved Brother Michaels. His sensitive sermons nudged her gently to become the woman of God she was intended to be. She fervently prayed that this giant of a man with the booming voice was not a fire-and-brimstone preacher.

  If there was anything Prudence hated, it was yelling of any kind. She had always been the peacemaker between her two sisters, and often between them and their father. Perhaps that was one thing she had inherited from her mother, because her mother was exactly the same way.

  Gaylord Fyfe was nothing like Prudence expected. Though he had a resonant voice, his sermons were much like Brother Michaels’. However, there was one difference: his voice held the kind of power and authority that made you feel convicted by what he had to say.

  He spoke to them of Jesus’ love and the need for every Christian to grow to be the kind of Christian whom God could use in His service. He spoke of the need to do something with their lives instead of wasting the time God gave people here on this earth.

  By the time he finished his sermon, Prudence had fallen under the young minister’s spell. He made her hunger to know more about God and His kingdom.

  She turned to say as much to Devlin, but found him unusually somber. His dark eyes plumbed the depths of her own curious hazel ones, and then he turned quickly away.

  For the remainder of the service, Prudence thought about what Gaylord Fyfe had said. Resolved to do more with her life, she sang the hymns with greater gusto.

  As they left the church, Devlin on one side of Prudence and Terence on the other, Prudence again became aware of the speculative looks cast her way.

  Well, let them look, she thought, lifting her chin just a fraction.

  They continued to the doorway where Brother Fyfe waited to shake their hands. Awaiting her turn in line, Prudence took the time to study the young man. So caught up in his words and his voice had she been, she had failed to notice his looks.

  He was huge, that much was certain, but he was definitely not handsome, at least not in the conventional sense of the term. His eyelashes were so pale as to be practically nonexistent. They framed sky-blue eyes that sparkled with life. No, he was not handsome, but he was definitely attractive. What was the word she was looking for? Oh, yes, he had charisma.

  Devlin took her by the arm when she would have stayed to talk, pulling her out the doorway. Exasperated, she turned on him. “I wanted to talk to him a minute!”

  The twinkle was back in his eyes. “You and a hundred other people.”

  Glancing back, Prudence realized he was right. The man was positively being mobbed.

  Terence took Prudence’s other arm and smiled at her charmingly. “May we have the pleasure of escorting you home?”

  Since tongues were already wagging, Prudence decided she had nothing to lose. They fell into step beside her, since it was her custom to walk unless her father was with her or the weather was unbearable.

  Somehow, without Prudence being sure of how it had happened, the two managed to finagle an invitation to lunch. She sighed. Jessica was not going to be pleased.

  When they entered the house, Mrs. Hilliard was surprised, but her good manners quickly overcame that, and she graciously invited them to lunch.

  Had their father not been home, Prudence felt sure that Jessica would have refused lunch, but with their patriarch present, she did not dare. Instead, to show her displeasure, she ignored the young Mr. Scott.

  He did not seem to mind. Indeed, he spent the afternoon paying very close attention to Prudence, who was becoming increasingly uncomfortable under that young man’s regard.

  After the two had left, Prudence sighed with relief. Jessica was studying her thoughtfully. “I think we may have solved the riddle of Prudence’s secret admirer,” she told the room at large.

  Their mother looked up from the canvas on which she was stitching an elaborate sampler. Her face creased in a worried frown. “Do you think it wise to encourage such a young man?” she enquired of Prudence.

  Surprised, Prudence glared first at Jessica, then at her mother. “I never! I haven’t encouraged anyone.”

  Her father came to her rescue. “I agree. I saw no such sign from our Prudence. If the young man is taken with her, then that must surely rest at the young man’s door. For my part, I like the lad. I think he would make a good match.”

  Four pairs of female eyes stared at him in shocked surprise. Grinning at them all, he left the room.

  Jessica turned to her sister. “How could you, Pru? He’s … he’s …”

  Prudence tilted her nose in the air. “Well, I agree with Papa. I like him. Just because he dislikes suffragettes doesn’t mean he’s all bad.”

  Jessica left the room in a huff, her hoop skirts bouncing angrily around her.

  Prudence sighed. Even in a rage, Jessica was beautiful. More so, for her eyes sparkled and her cheeks grew flushed. No wonder Terence Scott was so taken with her.

  Prudence had not been fooled by all his attention for his eyes had wandered often to Jessica, who had been sitting in the corner of the room, ignoring everyone. She decided she would do what she could to encourage this romance, but with Jessica it would not be easy.

  Putting her thoughts into action, Prudence followed Jessica to her bedroom where she found her younger sister staring out her bedroom window at the garden below. Unlike Prudence’s room, which faced the street, Jessica had a lovely view of their back garden.

  Prudence seated herself on her sister’s four-poster bed, smoothing the satin coverlet with her hands. “Jessica, do you really want to be a suffragette?”

  Her only answer was a sniff. Prudence got up and went to her sister’s side, handing her a lace-edged handkerchief. She studied the tears on Jessica’s face.

  “What would God have you do, Jess?”

  Jessica flung away from her sister. “I’m not like you, Pru. I don’t live my life worrying about what God would like or not. For years, religion has been used to keep women in their places.”

  “That’s your Elizabeth Cady Stanton speaking, not Jessica Hilliard.”

  Jessica turned to her sister. “You don’t understand. I want a life. I don’t want to be just some man’s chattel!”

  Prudence smiled at her sister’s vehemence. “Like Mother, you mean?”

  Snorting, Jessica frowned at Prudence. “Mother is no chattel. She dances rings around father. Why, he would gi
ve her the moon if he—” She stopped abruptly, realizing what she was admitting. Glaring defiantly at her sister, she dared her to say anything.

  Prudence smiled her gentle smile. “That’s called love, Jess. It’s the greatest gift God has bestowed upon us. Don’t throw it away without giving it a chance.”

  Prudence left her sister so she could think about what she had just said. Jessica watched her go, her shoulders slumping wearily.

  Chapter 4

  Prudence slipped out the side door of the house and hurried out of the yard and down the street. It was early yet and she had hopes that no one would see her.

  As she flew along, she struggled with the equipment she was carrying. It was not far to the Boston Common, but she was late already. She hurried faster. Her stomach growled in protest at having been denied the opportunity to partake of breakfast, but they were depending on her. It had been hard enough to slip out without anyone seeing her. Mother would have a fit if she saw her now; Father would, too.

  She had left the house with relief, not only at having escaped for a while, but also for having evaded Terence Scott. He had been to her house every day for the past two months, and it was beginning to wear on her nerves.

  And Devlin had teased her unmercifully about her strange valentine. He watched her closely, as though trying to ascertain if she perhaps knew the sender. Well, she did not and she would just as soon forget it. Probably it was someone’s practical joke.

  She frowned in thought. And then there was Constance’s sudden interest in church. She had gone the past two Sundays, her attention fixed raptly on Gaylord Fyfe. Was she perhaps interested in the man himself, or was she really interested finally in hearing God’s Word? She would hate to see Brother Fyfe caught in her sister’s web.

  She loved her sister dearly, but Gaylord was such a man of God. He was needed to preach God’s Word. Already their church was beginning to grow. Even the men listened attentively to his words.