© 2006 by Debra White Smith
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Bethany House edition published 2018
Previously published by Harvest House Publishers.
Ebook edition created 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-1390-4
Cover design by Connie Gabbert
Author is represented by Alive Literary Agency
To my wonderful friend
Rose Blackburn.
You know the whole Smith clan
loves you!
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Cast
1
2
3
4
5
6
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10
11
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14
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About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
Cast
Allie Elton: Based upon Anne Elliot from Persuasion. The daughter of Richard Elton, Allie is devoted to her family and to the legacy of Georgia Gold Plantation.
Brent Everson: Based upon William Elliot from Persuasion. Brent married Richard Elton’s niece, who was killed in a tragic accident. Brent is in search of another rich wife.
Darren and Sophia Cosby: Based upon Admiral Croft and Sophie Croft from Persuasion. Darren is married to Frederick Wently’s sister, Sophia. The Cosbys are personable, successful, and wealthy.
Evelyn Elton: Based upon Elizabeth Elliot from Persuasion. The eldest daughter of Richard Elton, Evelyn manages the Elton mansion and tries to manage everybody and everything else in her sphere.
Frederick Wently: Based upon Frederick Wentworth from Persuasion. Frederick joined the Air Force and was a fighter pilot in the war in Afghanistan. He came home a decorated hero. His love for flying is second only to his love for Allie Elton.
Helena Grove: Based upon Henrietta Musgrove from Persuasion. The younger daughter of Charlie Sr. and Martha Grove, Helena is considering marrying Craig Hayden.
Jim Bennington: Based upon James Benwick from Persuasion. A close friend of Frederick Wently, Jim mourns the death of his fiancée, Felicity Harvey.
Landon Russ: Based upon Lady Russell from Persuasion. Allie Elton’s aunt, Landon is Allie’s best friend and confidante. She believes she has Allie’s best interest at heart.
Louise Grove: Based upon Louisa Musgrove from Persuasion. An incurable flirt, Louise is the eldest daughter of Charles Sr. and Martha Grove.
Macy Elton Grove: Based upon Mary Elliot Musgrove from Persuasion. A hypochondriac, Macy is married to Charlie Grove Jr. and is Allie Elton’s sister.
Penny Clayton: Based upon Penelope Clay from Persuasion. Penny Clayton is the gold-digging friend of Evelyn Elton. She uses her friendship with Evelyn to further her chances of matrimony.
Richard Elton: Based upon Sir Walter Elliot from Persuasion. Richard is the third wealthiest man in Georgia. He is the father of Allie and Evelyn Elton and Macy Elton Grove.
Sarah Hamilton: Based upon Hamilton Smith from Persuasion. Sarah is Allie Elton’s dear friend from high school. Although Allie’s family disapproves of her relationship with someone from lower financial standing, Allie and Sarah share a “sister” bond.
One
“A yardman!” Landon Russ’s thin eyebrows arched. “You’re wanting to marry a yardman?” Her blue eyes couldn’t have been wider . . . or more disdainful.
Allie Elton’s face went cold. Even the afternoon heat suffocating the Georgia plantation couldn’t stop the rash of chills. She never considered that her aunt would object to her enraptured news. Never. Allie’s fingers tightened around her sweating lemonade glass, and she stared at the droplets trickling down the tumbler until her eyes stung and the lemon slices blurred. She ducked her head before continuing. “I thought you knew we were—”
“I saw you were friends, yes. We all saw that, your father included, but we thought that’s all it was—that, plus the fact that you had to work together. But we thought you had the good sense not to—We never imagined you would—”
Aunt Landon sprang from the back porch’s swing and hovered over her niece, only twelve years her junior. “Allie, this can’t happen! It won’t happen! Your father will never let it happen!”
Allie pressed her sneakers against the wooden porch. The swing stopped swaying. She blinked. Her eyes misted anew. A tiny blur of feathers and beak zipped into her peripheral vision. Afraid to lift her focus from the lemonade, Allie refrained from even glancing toward the hummingbird. The diminutive creatures gorged themselves on the sweet liquid Allie provided in the feeders hanging from the porch. She loved watching the birds and considered each of them her friend. But now she was beyond even their influence.
Aunt Landon’s disapproval bore into Allie, ushering in a barrage of thoughts that tore at her heart. In the midst of the mental whirlwind, one thing became increasingly clear: She had misread the entire situation. She thought her family knew she and Frederick were falling in love. And she thought they would approve since they all seemed to like him.
“I don’t understand how this happened!” Aunt Landon stewed. The boards creaked with her pacing.
“But I thought you all liked him.” Allie’s comment fluttered out like the whimpered wish of an undervalued child. She fumbled with the hem of her walking shorts and dared to lift her gaze. Her tall, lithe aunt observed Allie as if she were daft.
“We do like him, sugar,” she crooned in her sweet, Georgian drawl. “He’s a very nice yardman. But that doesn’t mean you need to go off and marry him!”
“But I love—”
“Sshh! Don’t even say that.” Landon looked over her shoulder toward the mansion’s closed door and hurried to Allie’s side. Her long maxi skirt brushed her legs in cadence with the tap of sandals on antebellum wood. Accompanied by a waft of sophisticated perfume, she plopped back down on the swing and jostled Allie’s beverage. A dollop of lemonade sloshed from the glass and dotted Allie’s knuckles in cold droplets. She pressed her hand against her T-shirt and wiped away the liquid.
Aunt Landon tugged at Allie’s hand and clutched her fingers. “Listen to me,” she insisted as if Allie were on the verge of drinking poison. “You need to think about what you’re doing! He’s penniless. His parents are nobodies. He’s twenty-five and hasn’t even fin
ished his education. He’s got dirt under his fingernails.”
“But he’s joining the Air Force and wants to be a pilot.” Allie’s claims sounded leagues weaker than the passionate belief she held in her Frederick. “And he’s smart, Aunt Landon. Really smart! He’s got some college and wants to finish in the Air Force. He’s already got his private pilot’s license. I believe in him. I believe he’ll make it.”
“Ah, honey.” Aunt Landon stroked the side of Allie’s shoulder-length hair. “Of course you do. What woman your age wouldn’t? He’s got brown eyes you could drown in and a smile that would stop a tornado. And let’s don’t even start on all those muscles! They’d knock the socks off a saint. But good looks aren’t what a solid marriage is all about. Can’t you see? He’s no match for you. You’re the daughter of the Richard Elton, peach king of the South!”
“But Frederick’s father wants to run for the state senate. That’s got to be worth something.”
“And how’s he ever gonna do that?” Landon’s mouth settled into a no-nonsense line. “That takes money.”
“That’s his whole point!” Allie gazed across the acres of rolling peach orchards called Georgia Gold Plantation. She glanced back at her mother’s sister. When Allie’s mom died nine years ago, Aunt Landon had become a second mother, big sister, and friend all rolled into one. She’d been nothing but Allie’s chief cheerleader during those years . . . until now. Allie trembled at the very thought of arguing with her aunt. Nevertheless, she persisted.
“Frederick’s dad s-says holding a public office shouldn’t be about who’s got the most money, but who’s got the right motives.”
“I agree it should be about motives and dignity and integrity and all that,” Landon said with a nod. “But you can have the best heart in the state, and you won’t stand a chance at the senate or the House, either, for that matter—not unless you’ve got the money to back you.”
“Sarah said—”
Landon held up her hand. “Don’t start quoting that penniless twit,” she stated. “I’m beginning to think we should have never tolerated your friendship with her. The whole thing with this yardman probably stems from her. Your best friend is from the wrong side of town, and now you think you should marry and move over there!”
Allie’s shoulders sagged. She and Sarah had been friends ever since Sarah’s mother, the Eltons’ cook, was allowed to bring her daughter to work with her. Millie had promised the Eltons that the ten-year-old Sarah would be free help if the Eltons would just allow her daughter to come with her. Allie’s mom, a dedicated mother herself, had agreed. And when Sarah hadn’t been helping her mother, she and Allie had planted their own little garden and played with the cats and daydreamed. Neither was worried they were from different economic backgrounds and different races. They just knew they liked each other. The like had grown to love. Now the two were inseparable. And even though Sarah was a successful med student, she was still “from the wrong side of the tracks” in Landon’s mind.
Allie set her lemonade on the porch railing, stared into her lap, and clicked her thumbnails against each other. She’d been digging around the roses without her gloves and reaped the benefit—traces of soil under her cuticles that hand-washing hadn’t remedied.
Up until now, Sarah Hamilton had been the only person who knew that Allie and Frederick were close to marriage. Sarah had been everything Aunt Landon wasn’t: supportive, excited, and truly happy for Allie.
“Listen, Allie,” Landon continued, “if Frederick’s going into the Air Force, he’ll drag you all over creation. You’ll live on one base and then another, with almost no income. You’ll be the one supporting the two of you with your trust fund. Who knows where you’ll be next, and who knows if he’ll ever do more than clean airplanes. The way I see it, a good marriage doesn’t happen until both partners bring an equal share to the table. And in this case, you’ll bring all the clout while he brings nothing but . . . but . . .” she wiggled her manicured fingers, “ . . . but dirt under his fingernails.”
Allie dug at the smudge of dirt under her unpolished thumbnail.
“Or if he does become a pilot, the next thing you know he’ll bless you with half a dozen kids and fly off and leave you alone with them.” Landon grabbed Allie’s arm and gasped. “Oh my word!”
Allie met her aunt’s startled gaze. “What?”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” Landon’s horror-stricken question pierced Allie to the center of her soul.
“Aunt Landon!” she shrieked. “How could you! I thought you knew me better than that.” Allie jumped to her feet, balled her fists, and could not hold the tears. “I have never—” A bout of weeping prohibited her from further explanation.
Landon relaxed against the swing and covered her heart with her hand. “Thank the Lord,” she breathed.
“How could you?” Allie repeated while dashing at the tears.
“Well, dear,” Landon said, shaking her head, “it’s not you I’m worried about. I just know men, that’s all.”
“But Frederick is a gentleman!” Allie squeaked. “If you’d just give him a chance! Even Sarah said—” Allie stopped herself from another Sarah quote when Landon leveled a straight stare at her.
“Nobody is that much of a gentleman, not for long, anyway,” Landon replied.
“But—but—” Allie searched for a way to erase the jaded gleam from her aunt’s hardened blue eyes. No words came. Two years ago Landon’s wealthy husband abandoned her for a swivel-hipped twenty-year-old. While Landon had gotten her share of the massive fortune, she’d also come away with a cynical opinion of men.
Even though Frederick was all man, he’d promised Allie from the start of their relationship that he was committed to the highest morals. He respected both her and himself enough to keep their relationship pure.
Landon stood and placed gentle hands on Allie’s shoulders. “Sugar, I love you. I’m sorry I’ve upset you. And you’re right, I should have had more faith in you. It’s just that all this is such a shock that I don’t even know what I’m saying. And if you think I’m shocked, imagine how your father is going to react.”
A swell of dread started in Allie’s mind and flowed to her feet. Never had she crossed her father. Ever since her mother’s death, Allie had craved the approval he bestowed liberally upon her elder sister, Evelyn, and had done her best to elicit his praise. Even though Richard Elton had never doted on Allie as he did Evelyn, he’d also never exposed her to the disapproving glare that Allie’s younger sister, Macy, had reaped before she left home.
Macy seemed forever determined to do the exact opposite of what their father mandated—right down to declining college for marrying the son of a germ-ridden family. Never mind that the Groves had a national septic system chain that serviced millions of households and that the Groves were independently wealthy. Septic systems were septic systems, and Richard couldn’t imagine a peach queen married to a septic king. Nevertheless, that’s exactly what he got, right along with two septic–peachy grandsons—twins, no less, now one year old.
The very idea of a red-faced Richard bearing down upon her the way he had Macy made Allie nauseous. And from the day Macy announced she was marrying Charlie Grove, Allie had vowed not to make the same mistake her sister made.
Why didn’t I realize they wouldn’t approve of Frederick before now? she fretted. She answered her own question before the other one flitted away: Because they’ve all treated him like they thought he was great!
Allie shook her head at the whole mess. She’d been so in love with Frederick, she had been blind to the inevitable. Her entire life she’d made the choices her family expected and had earned her aunt’s praise. When it came to her father, she had at least earned his lack of disdain. Allie fought hot tears as her need for her family’s approval stifled her love. Her fingernails ate into her palms. She drew a deep breath.
“I hope you’ll do the right thing, Allie.” Aunt Landon looped her arm through Allie’s and urged
her toward the mansion’s door. “Remember, your obligations to your family are much more important than what you’re feeling for a man you only met a year ago. Men come and go, but we’re here forever.” Landon rested her arm along Allie’s shoulders, squeezed, and looked her niece eye-to-eye. “I’m sure you’d never want to do a thing to jeopardize your relationship with us.”
Guilt sliced Allie’s soul like a scalpel in the hands of a brain surgeon. Her gaze faltered. “N-no, never,” she rasped.
“There’s really no need to upset your father with this,” Aunt Landon chattered on as if they were discussing an upcoming tea party. “The simplest thing to do is make a phone call and end it as gently as possible. Then you can move forward from there. Trust me, there will be someone else out there you’ll fall more deeply in love with than you ever did Frederick. And your new man will have oodles of money and position.”
“Frederick will be here later.” Allie swallowed. Her lips quivered. She wished the heat would go ahead and sap the life out of her so she would be freed from explaining her plight to the man she desperately loved. “I’ll talk to him then.”
Two
Frederick Wently pulled his used pickup into the mansion’s winding driveway. The regal oaks lining the drive were as steadfast as the mansion’s white pillars. The rolling green lawn reminded him of the golf course his father wished he could afford to play on. Instead, he’d purchased a family membership at a has-been golf course on the backside of Atlanta, Georgia. That fine specimen of a facility had as much brown grass as green, with sand traps more like quicksand and golf carts that coughed every time you pressed the accelerator. But the Wentlys had enjoyed years of family bonding on that course that even quicksand and brown grass couldn’t compromise.
Last year when Frederick secured the job as grounds manager on the Elton estate, both his parents had been ecstatic. Frederick’s dad had even hoped the connection might further his prospects in becoming a senator. But never had Frederick or his parents imagined he’d be proposing to the owner’s daughter within a year.
Possibilities: A Contemporary Retelling of Persuasion Page 1