by Lynn Donovan
Table of Contents
Copyright
About this Series
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
Personal Note from the Author
About the Author
Appreciation
Newsletter and a Free Gift for You
Please Review
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are all products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, organizations, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
The book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. All rights are reserved with the exceptions of quotes used in reviews. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage system without express written permission from the author.
Yours Truly, the Lovelorn Series
©2020 Lynn Donovan
Cover Design by V. McKevitt
Editing by Cyndi Rule
Beta Reader: Amy Petrowich
About this Series
Be sure to read all the books in this series.
Book 1 – Dear Lovelorn - Marie Higgins
Book 2 – Brilliant in Boston - Lynn Donovan
Book 3 – Secretive in Sacramento - Marie Higgins
Book 4 – Lost in Laramie - Margaret Tanner
Book 5 – Confused in Colorado - Cat Cahill
Book 6 – Torn in Toronto - Wendy May Andrews
Book 7 – Deserted in Dodge - Patricia PacJac Carroll
Book 8 – Obsessed in Oregon Marlene Wilson Bierworth
Book 9 – Overwhelmed in Oklahoma - Elissa Courtney Bellassai Strati
Book 10 – Wistful in Wisconsin - Marisa Masterson/Sheila Mast
Book 11 – Desperate in Delaware - Caroline Clemmons
Book 12 – Vexed in Vermont - Marie Higgins
Book 13 – Kissless in Kansas - Elissa Courtney Bellassai Strati
Book 14 – Dejected in Denver - Cat Cahill
Book 15 – Alone in Austin - Patricia PacJac Carroll
Book 16 – Miserable in Montana - Cheryl Wright
Book 17 – Widowed in Wyoming - Christine Sterling Bortner
Introduction
Dorothy Marie Bladdenwart is overeducated, unwanted by suitors, and unemployable as a single woman. She seeks advice from The Lovelorn who suggests she move from Boston to a small western town where she would have a better chance at marriage and employment as a teacher.
Aidan Orchid is a widower in Billings, Montana. His late wife was the school teacher in his little mining community. He can’t imagine finding another like her, few women were as highly educated as she. Until he sees the newspaper commentary and sends the woman from Boston an invitation to take his wife’s place. Can he open his heart to her, or is she just what’s best for the children?
Dorothy is thrilled to receive an offer to teach, but misunderstands his intentions. Is there a solution in her supply of textbooks? Will Dorothy agree to a marriage of convenience so that she can teach? Can love conquer misunderstandings? Will Dorothy and Aidan find their happy ever after in Billings?
Chapter One

Dorothy Marie Bladdenwart walked to her favorite table in the Harvard University Library. A delicate china cup and saucer filled with coffee in one hand and her usual stack of newspapers in the other.
The librarian, Mr. Niles Green, a dandy gentleman who would probably never seek the hand of a Bostonian woman, was kind to Dorothy even though she was the rare female who wandered the halls of the colonial university. He never failed to have coffee brewed and a stack of recent newspapers set aside for her. In appreciation, she always brought him two molasses and raisin muffins.
“Ah, your signature muffins.” He always remarked, as if he was surprised she brought them. It made her smile, even though it was routine. In truth, these muffins were the only baked goods she could cook. Luckily it was also her father’s favorite and he didn’t mind her baking them every morning.
“Miss Bladdenwart?” A slender, pale gentleman wearing an unimpressive, closely tailored sack suit with a wingtip collar and four-in-hand tie fidgeted with his derby hat in his hands as if he were turning a wheel. He looked ill, but perhaps he was simply a bundle of nerves.
“Yes.” Dorothy set the New York Times aside.
“My name is Donald Darcy. I-I was told it would be all right to speak to you.” He glanced over his shoulder and gave a nod to Mr. Green.
Dorothy lifted her eyes to the librarian with a frown. “Oh, dear me. I see. Well, I usually read my papers at this hour, Mr. Darcy, but I suppose I don’t mind you speaking with me. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Uh. Sure.” The gentleman pulled out a chair across the table from her.
She watched him sit, then lifted her eyes once again to the meddlesome librarian. “Mr. Green? Could we have another cup of coffee over here?” Lowering her gaze to Mr. Darcy, “Cream? Sugar?”
He shook his head. “No, black is fine.”
“Black is fine!” She spoke louder so Mr. Green could hear.
Green brought the cup and saucer to Mr. Darcy as if it were all part of his duties in the library but wouldn’t make eye contact with Dorothy. He knew she was not happy with him telling this stranger that it was fine to come interrupt her reading time. She glared at him, even though it was a wasted effort because he refused to meet her piqued gaze.
“Oh, thank you.” Mr. Darcy addressed Green as he accepted the coffee. He sipped and winced. Apparently he was not expecting it to be so hot.
Dorothy hid her smile behind her own cup as she took a drink and returned the cup to the saucer.
“So…” Darcy looked at the stack of newspapers. “You read all of those?”
“Yes. I enjoy knowing what’s happening.”
“Gosh. How many papers do you read?” He reached across the table and lifted a corner to see what the next masthead was.
“Oh, dear me, let’s see… New York Times, Boston Harold— of course, St. Louis Gazette, Alexandria Gaz—” She glanced up to see a look of shock on his face. “One of the advantages of being friends with the librarian at Harvard is to get access to just about every newspaper published, especially the ones in America. Mr. Green has set a stack of them aside for me for as long as I can remember.”
Darcy tilted his head. “You have been coming to this library for… for as long as you can remember?”
“Oh, dear me, yes. You see, after Mother passed Father brought me to the University with him in lieu of hiring a governess or sending me to public school. I suppose he missed my mother and preferred to keep me close by his side. He never remarried, so, my grammar school education was sitting in on his university lessons. There were colleagues of my father who didn’t mind me sitting in their classroom also. I imagine because I was quiet, they thought of me as a benign nuisance and didn’t make a fuss. But I learned all the rudimentary subjects: mathematics, literature, history, philosophy, and language arts.
“By my fifteenth year, I asked Father if I could take the final exams. He pulled some strings and arranged for me to sit for the graduate board. I received a Bachelor’s Degree in Arts with an emphasis in Literature. The certificate was made out to D.M. Bladdenwart, because the graduate co
mmittee refused to acknowledge a female child was among their graduating class of 1876.”
Darcy’s eyes widened. “You graduated from Harvard University four years ago?”
“Yes.”
“But, why are you still here in the Library? Are you continuing to study in their graduate programs?”
“Oh, dear me, no. But I do sit in on classes from time to time, if the subject interests me, and if the professor allows it. I spend a great deal of time in here reading. Having access to newspapers from all over, I am able to remain current on politics, news, financials—”
“But…” Mr. Darcy leaned back in his chair. “Miss Bladdenwart, why would a woman such as yourself want to know all those things? A woman at your age should be grooming herself for courting. In fact, that’s why I’m here. I talked to your father, uh, Professor Bladdenwart and he said you were not yet spoken for. I’d like to ask you to consider me as a viable candidate for marriage. I mean, you are a decent looking woman, I-I have a business degree from this very university. I can provide a good living for you and you look to be hardy.” His eyes roved over her frame, that which he could see above the table. “I think you can provide healthy heirs to the Darcy legacy.”
Dorothy glared at him. “Oh, dear me… I enjoy learning. The only grooming I have done is preparation to be a teacher. I want to teach the young people. I want to show young girls that their only purpose in life is not just becoming a wife and mother. Their education is important too.”
Darcy laughed. “Why would you want to confuse young girls with such a silly notion as that?”
Dorothy pursed her lips. “Mr. Darcy. I do not believe an education is a silly notion for a girl. It certainly hasn’t been a silly notion for me. I rather enjoy being aware of what is going on in our nation, among our politicians, in financial prospects. For example” —she lifted the Boston Gazette— “were you aware that copper is exceeding gold and silver in profitability out west, especially in the Montana territory?”
“Well, no.” Darcy’s jaw muscles bulged as he flushed crimson. “But what good does it do for you to know that? Are you going out west, Miss Bladdenwart, and mining copper? I mean you certainly are not seeking feminine ways here in Boston. Is that your ambition, to act like a man and take on a man’s role to build wealth? I don’t know what I was thinking, asking your father permission to court you. I don’t want to marry a woman who wants to be a man. Please pardon my intrusion on your time. I certainly have wasted my time coming here to speak to you.” He stood so abruptly that his chair tipped over and crashed to the floor.
Mr. Green leapt to his feet and glared at Dorothy and Mr. Darcy, then rushed to the table. “What is all this?”
“I’m sorry.” Darcy apologized and shoved the coffee cup and saucer into Mr. Green’s hands. “My mistake coming here, Niles. I thought Miss Bladdenwart and I had something in common to discuss. But it seems I was terribly wrong.” Mr. Darcy turned on his heels and strode out of the library.
Dorothy sat stunned, watching his retreat. Slowly she lifted her eyes to Mr. Green, who also seemed surprised by Mr. Darcy’s quick exit.
“How rude.” Mr. Green muttered.
“Oh, dear me, yes. He was very rude. Unfortunately, his attitude is a common one. Bostonian men do not consider me a suitable candidate for marriage.” She propped her chin in her palms, elbows on the table, with a huge sigh. “My education is not attractive to potential suitors.”
Her lip trembled, but she refused to allow tears to fall. Mr. Green touched her shoulder compassionately. “Dotty, you are a good person, there’s nothing wrong with you being educated. Those men who do not find you suitable for marriage are just… fools.”
She pursed her lips and gave a curt nod. “Thank you. But you know this world is a difficult one for a woman like myself. The men do not think I’m suitable as a wife and yet the school board will not hire me as a teacher because they worry that I will marry and start a family. Women who are in a family way are not socially acceptable in a classroom. Lord forbid the students should be exposed to such a natural occurrence as a pregnant woman.” Dorothy balled her hands into fists.
Mr. Green’s eyes widened. “Well, society is what it is, but it doesn’t mean it’s right for everyone. I should know.” He took the cups and scurried back to his desk.
Dorothy sat still for a few more moments. Her heart ached from Donald Darcy’s behavior. It was no different than every other suitor who had approached her in the last two years. She drew in a deep breath and looked down at her newspapers. The St. Louis Gazette was next. She lifted it and opened to the inside, randomly letting her eyes move across the headings. One article caught her attention:
“Courtship: A love-hate relationship.”
A commentary about Courtship. What an odd coincidence. She folded the paper and continued to read.
“From the beginning of time as we know it, men and women have courted in an effort to see if they were compatible enough for marriage. Yet, who is to say this is the correct method?”
Dorothy looked up blindly at the shelves full of books. Gosh, isn’t that the truth? I haven’t been able to get any further than an initial meeting with anyone. The suitors don’t give me a chance to see if we are compatible, they discover my level of education and take off running. It’s so unfair! She looked back at the article.
“Many countries have arranged marriages. Couples don’t have a choice but must wed the person their family has arranged for them. Remarkably enough, these types of couples know they have to work with each other in order to create a marriage where they can grow into love and acceptance.”
Dorothy laid the paper down. Maybe an arranged marriage would be better, at least then the groom would have no choice but to marry her. But was that really what she wanted? A marriage for the sake of a marriage? A husband that didn’t accept her for who she was or appreciate her interests? What if she married under these conditions and the husband forbade her to read or learn? That would be a horrible arrangement! She returned her attention to the article.
“I know many women and men who fail at the current method of courtship.”
Dorothy lifted her hand as if to answer a question in class. Yes, that would be me, a failure at the current method of courtship. She drew in a deep breath and lowered her eyes to the paper.
“Some men are focused on finding the most beautiful woman or the wealthiest, while some women are searching for a man who will make the best provider or the best father. Both men and women are looking for things that can be unreasonable at times. Why can’t they accept the other for their true worth, instead of the disguise they wear when courting?
“Will there ever be a time when people can just be themselves? What must be done in order for people to be honest instead of concealing what’s truly in their heart?”
The author signed with a pen-name: The Lovelorn.
Dorothy definitely agreed with what the author had to say. Why can’t a person just be themselves? She didn’t want to pretend she didn’t read newspapers or know what’s going on in politics or finances. Mr. Darcy told her she didn’t need an education to provide him with heirs. But didn’t he want a wife he could converse with, discuss the up-coming presidential election, help to make decisions on beneficial financial investments? Wouldn’t a well-educated wife be more interesting to live with?
Her eyes swept over the article again. She completely agreed with the last question: “What must be done in order for people to be honest instead of concealing what’s truly in their heart?”
This author knew what she was talking about. Dorothy stared at the library’s coved ceiling. She knew the author was a woman. Only a woman would use a pen name like “The Lovelorn.” A man would have used his own name. Even this author had to use a disguise in order to express her opinion. She would understand what Dorothy was experiencing.
What if she wrote to the St. Louis Gazette? Would this author help her resolve her own dilemma?
“Hmm.�
�� She needed stationary and a pen and ink. “Mr. Green?” She spoke loud enough for him to hear her but not too loud to disturb others who were studying.
He looked up from filing index cards. “Hmm?”
“May I have something with which to send a correspondence?”
“Oh, sure.” He walked to his desk and pulled out the needed supplies, then brought them to her.
“Thank you.” Dotty looked back at the article and formulated what she wanted to say.
March 24, 1880
Dear Lovelorn,
I agree with your article regarding Courtship. Courtship has been a disheartening experience for me. My mother died when I was very young and my father raised me as best he could. Not having remarried, he took me with him to his classrooms at University where I cut my teeth, literally and figuratively, on Plato, and Socrates, Mathematics, History, and Language Arts.
Now I am of marrying age and find myself overeducated for prospective suitors and undesirable as a companionable helpmeet. While my mother possessed a great deal of education and captured my father’s heart completely, I feel she and my father were the exception rather than the rule.
In contrast, I have sought respectable employment as a grammar-school teacher but have been turned down due to concerns that I will marry and start a family, making me ineligible to teach by archaic social standards.
Therefore, I beseech your advice. If I must remain an unmarried woman, so be it, but must I be an unemployed pauper as well? All I ask is an opportunity to find happiness in life suitable to my level of education.
Truly yours,
Brilliant in Boston

Several weeks later…
Dorothy rushed to her usual spot in the library with the St. Louis Gazette in hand and turned to the commentary section to see if there was an answer to her letter. Every consecutive publication so far had letters responding to the initial Lovelorn article with replies from the author. Dotty hoped there would soon be an answer to hers. She scanned the letters and found what she was looking for.
