by Mary Davis
He lowered his voice but not to the usual commanding tone. Still, it left little room for arguing. “You will change your gown if I have to dress you myself.”
He would never do that, but he might get the maids to team up and wrangle her out of her present attire. He was acting strange. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something unusual about his behavior. Even the way he stood.
Bridget was still locked in a visual conflict with the man who sired her when Petunia returned with her arms loaded. Bridget supposed this was a battle her father would ultimately win.
She shifted her gaze to the three gowns Petunia laid out on her bed. One mint green, another in bright blue and the third in the palest of pinks. All exquisitely pleasing, gorgeous, beautiful.
If she must change, she would wear the beige one hanging in the back of her closet. The second-ugliest dress she owned, with frayed cuffs and collar. She headed for her dressing-room door.
“One of these, Bridget. The green one makes your eyes come alive. I expect to see you downstairs in ten minutes in one of those gowns.” He pointed toward her bed and then strode out of the room.
She wanted to scream, stamp her feet and throw something breakable at the closed door. How strange for him to suggest a dress choice.
“Miss? The green would look lovely. You would steal his heart with one look for sure.”
That was the last thing she wanted. She would definitely not wear the green one. If she made herself as undesirable as possible, maybe her father’s choice would decline the betrothal. She tamped down her anger and shifted her gaze to the offensive dresses. Each one beautiful and among her favorites at one time. Petunia had obeyed her master’s orders well in these choices.
The blue was bold and commanding. But the pink one, being so pale, would likely wash out her complexion and make her look sickly. The thought of being forced to marry did nauseate her. So the question was, did she want to be commanding or appear pallid?
A few minutes later, she exited her bedroom to find her father in the hallway. Had he waited to make sure she indeed had followed his orders? He gave a nod of approval. His behavior was getting stranger and stranger.
“Miss Greene!” Dora hobbled over on stubby crutches.
Bridget instinctively scooped up the little girl. The crutches fell to the carpeted floor. She drank in the scent of the child’s innocence. This meant Lindley was here.
Was her father telling her he had chosen Lindley? Or was this some new cruel trick to make her face her betrothed in Lindley’s presence?
He picked up the crutches and motioned toward the staircase for her to go first. “The blue suits you.”
She had chosen commanding over ill. Strength over weakness. She would not cower before her fate. She lifted her chin and headed toward her future, whatever that might be. Excitement and hope warred with dread.
From behind her, he said, “I understand.”
Understand what? Her trepidation? She doubted that.
Uncharacteristically, Dora remained silent and laid her head on Bridget’s shoulder, content to be in her arms.
Each step she took a little faster. She stopped at the threshold to the parlor.
Fina and Cilla smiled up at her from the settee with Gabe wedged between them.
Lindley stood near the hearth, looking as handsome as ever.
Bridget surveyed the room. No one else was present. She glanced at her father.
“I finally understand sacrifice. Yours and God’s.” He took Dora from her arms.
“Oh, Father. Really?”
He nodded.
That was what was behind the strangeness and his atypical behavior. He’d been changed. There was a softness to his gaze. A tenderness that had never been there before.
He tilted his head toward the room. “He’s waiting.”
She turned back to find Lindley standing right in front of her. He took her hand and lowered to one knee, holding out a diamond ring. “Will you marry me?”
Simple and to the point. That was one of the things she loved about him. No extra words to confuse things. No false vibrato. No fancy musings. “Yes. Very much yes.”
He bolted to his feet and kissed her.
She wanted to linger in his embrace, but Gabe said, “Eeeeew.”
Everyone in the room laughed, including Bridget and Lindley.
Lindley said, “When can we marry?”
“Anytime you want to.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Today.”
“What about your parents?”
Before Lindley could answer, Cilla jumped up. “They won’t mind. They will be happy for him.”
Then Lindley said, “How much time do you need to plan the wedding?”
“I don’t need anything elaborate. Just you and me and a preacher.” She didn’t want to give her father time to change his mind.
Surprisingly, her father said, “Then today it is. Orvin, send for a clergyman.”
He really had changed. Bridget couldn’t believe this amazing transformation. She had prayed for this but never thought it would really happen.
Her father tilted his head. “You’re staring. It’s very unladylike.”
“What brought about this change?”
“I saw the difference in you. Then my son-in-law-to-be was quite persistent.” He shifted his focus to Dora still in his arms. “And this little one has a heart full of love. I found I lost all desire to resist.”
Dora kissed him on the cheek.
Sweet little Dora.
An hour later, the minister said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
Lindley wasted no time.
A giddiness tingled all over her at the touch of his lips on hers.
He kissed her far longer than was appropriate in the midst of others, especially her father and the children. But she didn’t care.
She was Mrs. Lindley Thompson, just who she was meant to be. A daughter held in respect. A wife cherished with love. A mother blessed by two adorable children and the possibility of more.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460379080
Romancing the Schoolteacher
Copyright © 2015 by Mary Davis
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Love Inspired Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Love Inspired Books.
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