“Don’t make her feel sad or apologetic, Cora. Mellie should enjoy her time with Morgan. Even if she wasn’t going to spend the night at the mansion, she’d be leaving Christmas Day to visit her family. And I think it’s grand that he’s going with you.” She laid her right hand over her heart. “It’s all so romantic. I hope I find a man like Morgan one day.”
Mellie smiled. “I hope you do, too. You both deserve fine men who can see how special each of you are, and who will understand your need to live in houses beside each other.”
Mellie had told Phebe and the twins the truth regarding Morgan’s identity. They thought him a hero for seeking to better conditions for the employees. While they were quick to question Mellie’s acceptance of Mrs. Stark despite the woman’s involvement in the lottery, Mellie had been as truthful as possible without betraying anything she’d promised to keep in confidence. They understood she still didn’t agree with the lottery and that there was little chance Mrs. Stark would be initiating future lotteries. As expected, Phebe had been more interested in the lottery than the others, but even she had expressed her support of Morgan.
“I’d be willing to face some adversity if, in the end, I had a man like Morgan at my side.” Clara toyed with the ribbon on her package. “Are you sure we must wait until Christmas to open our gift?”
“Very sure.” Mellie retrieved one more packet from her trunk. “Would you give this to Mrs. Richards tomorrow morning? I wasn’t certain if she’d like a silhouette of herself or one of the boardinghouse.”
Cora arched a brow. “Which did you finally choose?”
Mellie grinned. “I couldn’t decide, so I cut her profile standing in front of the boardinghouse.”
“A perfect solution.” Clara picked up Mellie’s traveling case. “I’ll carry this downstairs for you.” She turned as she neared the door. “And did you cut a silhouette of Morgan as a Christmas gift?”
“No, I . . .”
“Don’t tell her, Mellie.” Cora placed her index finger against her pursed lips. “She’s liable to tell Morgan when he arrives to call on you.”
“You may be right, Cora.” Mellie turned to Clara. “Upon my return from Concord, I promise to tell you.”
“You’re a spoilsport, Cora. You know I wouldn’t tell.”
All three of them laughed as they descended the attic stairs and continued along the upper hallway. They were midway down the stairs leading to the foyer when a knock sounded at the front door.
Cora glanced over her shoulder at Mellie. “That must be Morgan.”
Mellie’s pulse quickened. She prayed all would go well with his family this evening and with her family tomorrow. There hadn’t been time to write Margaret that Morgan would be arriving with her, so she hoped his appearance wouldn’t distress her sister or the children.
Morgan stomped the snow from his boots on the front stoop of the boardinghouse. Before arriving, he’d stopped and set a fire in the fireplace and shoveled the path leading to the house his grandfather had given him. He’d not yet told Mellie about the house and thought this would be the perfect evening to give her a tour. Last week he’d hired two cleaning ladies, who had scrubbed and polished the house from top to bottom. And while the house was free of dust and dirt, it lacked furniture and the amenities that would one day make it feel like a home. Still, he wanted her to see it and know that if she agreed to marry him, they would have a place to call their own.
Cora opened the door, but it was Mellie he saw when he stepped inside. His breath caught at the sight of her. “You look beautiful.” He didn’t care that the twins were hovering nearby and giggled at the remark.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she handed him her cloak.
He lifted her wrap and carefully placed it around her shoulders before leaning down to grasp her bag. After bidding the twins good-bye, the two of them departed. “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought we’d make a stop before going to my parents’ home. There’s something I’d like to show you.”
“A surprise?”
He didn’t miss the apprehension in her voice. The recent surprises she’d experienced hadn’t always been pleasant. “I think this is one you’ll like. At least I hope so.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Then I’m eager to see what it is. How far away is this place where we’re going to stop?”
“You’re not fooling me one bit. You think you’re going to figure it out before we get there. But since I don’t think that’s possible, I’ll tell you that it will take us only fifteen minutes by carriage.” He placed her bag in the carriage and assisted her up.
“I’ll take you at your word, and I won’t ask any more questions about the surprise.” She settled in her seat. “I do hope your mother didn’t have a change of heart and invite additional guests to dinner.”
He grasped her gloved hand in his. “Not unless she invited someone after I left the house a short time ago. I think our evening should be quiet but enjoyable.”
The snow that had fallen earlier in the day clung to the trees and bushes and created a wintry scene that rivaled the beauty of any snowy landscape she’d ever seen. A gust of wind rustled the trees nearby, and she leaned closer to Morgan.
A short time later, they stopped in front of a two-story stone house, where Morgan assisted her down from the carriage. He offered her his arm. “Right this way.”
Candlelight shone through the bare windows, and as they neared the front door, they could see the fire glowing in the front room fireplace. She looked up at him. “Are we visiting friends of yours?”
“No.” He withdrew a key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock. After opening the door, he bent from the waist and gave a sweeping gesture. “Please enter my home.”
She gasped as she stepped into the foyer. “This is your house?”
“It is. A gift from my grandfather, a very wise man, who thought I should have a home of my own.” He led her into the parlor. “I came over earlier and started the fire. I had hoped it would ward off the cold, but I don’t think it did much good.”
She stepped closer to the fireplace and held out her hands. “One fire for so large a house is probably not near enough, but it is lovely. You and your grandfather made a good choice.”
He took her hand. “Come see the rest.” He led her from room to room. After they’d inspected the entire house, they returned to the parlor.
She stepped back to the fireplace and hugged her chilled body. “It’s a beautiful home, though rather big for one person. I hope you won’t be lonely.”
“I hope so, too.” His pulse thundered, and his voice, swelling with emotion, nearly betrayed him. “Mellie, I was hoping you would agree to marry me. Until we can fill this house with children of our own, I thought you might want to use one or two of the bedrooms to hold classes for some of the children who work in the mills. Or you could use part of the house as a studio for your Scherenschnitte.” He paused and drew a long breath. “I know you may need more time still—and I don’t mind waiting for you—but when you’re ready, I want you to be my wife.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you.” She beamed at him, her tears reflecting the light of the fire. “I don’t need any more time, and I didn’t need to see this house to know you are the man I love. I believe you, Morgan, and I believe in you. You have my heart.”
After making her declaration, Mellie held her breath. Perhaps Morgan hadn’t expected an immediate answer.
As a wide grin spread across his face, he withdrew a wrapped package from inside his coat. “Then perhaps you’d do me the honor of opening this Christmas gift in private.”
She met his gaze before tugging on the gold satin ribbon and lifting the lid from the box. She gasped as she removed a crudely cut paper silhouette of a man and woman standing beneath an arch. “Did you cut this?”
“I know it’s far from a work of art, but—”
“No, Morgan, it’s the perfect silhouette.” S
he smiled at him. “It’s us.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he slipped a ring from his pocket. The facets of the garnet gemstone in the center gleamed. “It was my grandmother’s.” He lifted her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. “Merry Christmas, Mellie Blanchard, soon to be Mellie Stark.”
She giggled. “Mellie Stark. I hadn’t thought about the change of name.”
He drew her into his arms. “Too late now.”
Then, before she could say another word, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her with tenderness, passion, and love all at once. Mellie knew this man would never give her reason to doubt him again.
Special thanks to . . .
My editor and the entire staff at Bethany House, for their devotion to publishing the best product possible. It is a privilege to work with all of you.
Wendy Lawton of Books & Such Literary Agency, for her guidance, dedication, and spirit of encouragement.
Malia Ebel, reference librarian and archivist at the New Hampshire Historical Society, who cheerfully gave of her time to dig through archives and find valuable material for me to examine.
The staff at the Manchester City Library.
The staff at the Manchester Millyard Museum.
Mary Greb-Hall, for her ongoing encouragement, expertise, and sharp eye.
Lorna Seilstad, dear friend, remarkable traveling companion, and critique partner.
Mary Kay Woodford, my sister, prayer warrior, and friend.
Tom McCoy, my brother, supporter, and friend.
And always to Justin, Jenna, and Jessa, for their support and the joy they bring me during the writing process and the rest of my life.
Above all, thanks and praise to our Lord Jesus Christ, for the opportunity to live my dream and share the wonder of His love through story.
Judith Miller is an award-winning author whose avid research and love for history are reflected in her bestselling novels. Judy makes her home in Overland Park, Kansas. To learn more, visit www.judithmccoymiller.com.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Judith Miller
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
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Special Thanks
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
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A Perfect Silhouette Page 29
