Healing Hearts (Roselund Heights Book 1)
Page 1
Contents
Description
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Dear Reader
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Healing Hearts
Roselund Heights Book 1
By Miranda D Nelson
Joanna Leighton has never desired a husband. She’s seen what love can do to a person and she refuses to subject herself to that pain. She’s satisfied to help her uncle, the physician of Roselund Heights, tend to his patients. When the quiet and secretive Colin Aldridge moves to town her resolve softens, and she begins to wonder if love is perhaps worth the pain it inevitably brings. Joanna’s wounds run deep and when secrets and sorrows arise, she’s tempted to close off her heart forever. Can she trust Mr. Aldridge enough to risk the pain and give him her heart? Or will she decide she's better off spending her life alone?
Copyright © 2016 Miranda D Nelson
Published by Calequoia Books
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by Novak Illustrations
Interior Design by Calequoia Books
Edited by C. M. Wright’s Author Services
Sunday, October 23, 1814
Joanna Leighton never wanted to be married. She had seen enough of what that kind of love could do to a person, how it torments a soul. No, she would not subject herself to that pain.
She slammed the door of her house and yanked her bonnet on in a most unladylike manner. The sound attracted the disapproving glances of several neighbors, but she did not care. Her feet led her south along the row of neat houses without conscious thought. Heart pounding with furious energy, she muttered, “Curtains. Of all the ridiculous things!”
She stopped near the cliff, the sea breeze stirring the dark curls around her face and cooling the heat of her cheeks. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply of the salty autumn air. Within moments, tension fled her body and her heart returned to its normal rhythm. Tranquility replaced anger, and after a last refreshing breath, she opened her eyes, taking in the seascape before her.
Ten years of living near the sea and still it brought her peace. Her gaze turned to the west, where she knew the path lay to the shore. How delightful it would be to wander there for a time, instead of returning to the conflict in her home.
A familiar voice broke through her thoughts. “Joanna!”
Joanna turned to see her uncle, Mr. Garvey, walking toward her. Her face lit into a smile and she curtsied as he approached. “Good morning, Uncle. How was your journey?” She kissed his cheek.
“It was uneventful, but not unpleasant.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
“What good fortune to find you. I was just on my way to call on you and your sister.”
Joanna pressed her lips together. She did not wish to disrupt her uncle’s plans, but anything would be better than sitting with her younger sister just now. “I am afraid Mariah is out of spirits this morning.”
Mr. Garvey’s look became concerned. “Is she unwell?”
Joanna realized she ought to have chosen her words with more care. As a physician, his first thought would be that she was ill. “Oh, no, not at all. Do not worry over her. She will be herself before long, I am certain.”
“I see.” He raised a knowing brow. “And how are you, my dear niece?”
Joanna sighed but smiled. “I am well enough.”
He studied her a moment before nodding. “Very good, then.” He reached into his waistcoat pocket. “I have a letter for you from your father. He asked me to deliver it upon my arrival.”
Joanna’s heart lifted as she took it from him. “Thank you.” She looked longingly at the familiar script bearing her name. “How is he?”
“He is well. He had a few minor complaints, but nothing which gave me cause to worry.” Mr. Garvey chuckled. “He said to tell you not to be concerned about him.”
Joanna traced the lettering on the parchment. “If he would return home, I would not have to worry.” Pain sparked in her chest, but she breathed deeply, pushing it away. When she looked up, her uncle was watching her, a sympathetic look in his eyes. “I am sorry, Uncle. I should not complain. Besides, I could have gone to London with him; it was my own choice to remain here.”
Mr. Garvey nodded somberly before smiling again. “I, for one, am glad you did. You are a great help to me.”
Joanna shook her head but smiled back at him. While she had no designs on becoming a nurse, she did enjoy assisting her uncle with his patients in what small ways she could. More often than not, she felt she only provided comfort. “I do not do much.”
“Your assistance may not seem like much to you, but you are a great boon to the families.”
“Thank you, Uncle.”
He nodded, then looked at his pocket watch. “I ought to check in on Mrs. Cornwall before church. Did you see her while I was away?”
“Yes, she sent her servant for me three times. She only had a headache to complain of, but insisted her maid could do nothing for her. Apparently, the tea you recommend does more for her aches when I make it than when her maid does.”
Mr. Garvey chuckled. “That does not surprise me. You know how she can be.”
Joanna returned his smile. “Yes, I do. All too well.”
“Well, I will let you read your letter. I assume I will see you at church?”
“Of course.”
“Very good. Tell Mariah I hope she feels better soon.”
“I will, thank you.”
He bowed and turned back the way he had come. Joanna walked in the opposite direction along the Marine Parade, which paralleled the sea. Even from atop the cliff, the sound of the waves was clear and she became lost in their soothing song. So lost, in fact, that she forgot about the letter from her father until the breeze rustled the paper in her hand. She opened it as she walked, excited to hear from him again.
My dearest Daughters,
I hope this letter finds you well. I myself am quite fine. This is my favorite time of year in London, as the Season has ended and the crowds have fled the city. I do miss the solitude of the country, but find myself enjoying the diversions London has to offer.
My brother and his family have made plans to visit me here and they arrive tomorrow. They will remain a week before venturing onward. Therein lies my true reason for writing. I am considering a visit to Roselund Heights in the near future and may come shortly after my brother departs. I will write to you again when I have formalized my plans, but thought I ought to inform you of my intent to visit.
I apologize for the shortness of this letter, but your Uncle Garvey plans to leave soon, and I wish to send this with him. I do hope all is well with you, and I look forward to seeing you soon.
All my love,
Father
>
Joanna folded the letter and held it tightly in her palm. The short message left her feeling hopeful and discouraged all at once. It was not the first time he had suggested a visit, but his promises had gone unfulfilled in the past. She knew it was difficult for him to come back, and more painful than he liked to admit. More often than not in the last two years, they had gone to visit him in London instead. She turned back toward home, allowing the sea to soothe her.
Her mood had improved since leaving only a short time earlier, despite the mixed feelings she felt regarding her father’s letter. However, she hesitated before opening the door, offering a silent wish that Mariah was in a better humor also.
Music surrounded her upon entering the house. Mariah’s skill at the piano was excellent, to be sure, and the peaceful notes added to Joanna’s pleasant feelings. Instead of interrupting, she went up-stairs to her room to ready herself for church.
Nearly half an hour later, Joanna returned downstairs, and Mariah’s music still filled the halls. Joanna went to the drawing room and peered inside. What she saw caused her to shove the door open. “Mariah!”
The notes froze in the air and Mariah turned to Joanna with an exasperated look. “What?”
“What are you doing?”
She looked at Joanna as if she were daft. “I am playing, Joanna.”
Joanna sighed. “Obviously, but it is time to leave for church and you are far from ready.”
Mariah glanced at the clock. “I have time.” She rose slowly from the piano and sauntered toward the door.
“We must leave in ten minutes at most. You have to hurry. Why did you play so long?”
“It helps me regain my composure. I could not be expected to attend church in the frame of mind I was in. It wouldn’t do to sit before the rector thinking ill of someone, now, would it?”
Joanna scowled after her. “Please hurry. It also will not do to be late.”
Mariah had the audacity to roll her eyes at Joanna before ascending to her room. Twenty minutes later, Joanna paced the entryway, still waiting on Mariah. Finally her sister came down with all the calmness of a summer morn.
“Are you ready?” she asked lightly.
Joanna cast her a severe glare, but Mariah did not seem to mind. The walk to church was not long, but with time nearly spent, it was urgent they walk with haste. Joanna’s frustration fueled her forward and Mariah kept pace.
They arrived at the church three minutes late, and as they hurried to the doors, Joanna could hear the rector speaking from within. She entered the chapel, her face warm with embarrassment. Their shared pew was near the middle of the nave with her aunt and uncle. She focused her attention there and away from the scornful looks of the other worshipers.
It wasn't until she stood almost at their row that she noticed the stranger who sat in their place. Her footsteps faltered and she paused in confusion. He sat a few feet down the pew, leaving only enough room for one at the end. Her mind froze, unable to determine the best solution. Mariah slid around her before she could move and took the available seat. The smile on her face was enough to drive anyone mad.
Joanna stared at the stranger for several moments, hoping he would notice her standing and move down; he did not so much as glance in her direction. Someone cleared their throat loudly and Joanna’s gaze flew to the direction of the sound. Her stomach churned as she realized it was the rector, Reverend Beeton. He stood at the front of the chapel, silently condemning her.
Joanna looked around the nave anxiously, the warmth in her cheeks now scorching. She could not avoid the gazes now, and had nowhere to escape. A few rows up, a kind face curtained by auburn curls stood out. Edith. She turned and whispered to her mother, then they both moved over, making room for Joanna, who hurried forward without another glance around. As soon as she’d taken her seat, Reverend Beeton began preaching again.
Edith Colborne looked at her with mixed compassion and amusement in her blue eyes. “Your face is very red, Joanna,” she whispered.
“Thank you. I was unaware of that.”
Edith shook her head and looked to the rector, focusing on his words, which was more than Joanna could manage for the moment. She waited a few minutes before discreetly turning back to look at her sister. Mariah’s expression was innocent, yet her eyes were alight with laughter. Joanna’s gaze turned to the man beside her. His stern expression seemed completely oblivious to the embarrassment he’d caused her. Anger welled up within her and she faced forward again, her mind ablaze with unkind words. She only listened partially to the rector’s sermon, especially once she realized his message was on forgiveness.
By the end of the service, Joanna had calmed, but was still in no temper to forgive her sister. She led the way out of the pew and up the aisle toward the rear of the church. She could see the stranger’s tall frame ahead of her. He moved stiffly through the crowd, not speaking to anyone.
“I do not know that I’ve ever seen you so eager to sit down in church, Miss Leighton,” a male voice said from behind her.
Joanna turned to see Hugh Colborne grinning crookedly at her. Though older than Joanna by a few years, his wild hair and impish grin left much of the boyishness in his looks.
Edith hid her own smile but looked at him sharply. “Leave her be, Hugh.” Edith looped her arm through Joanna’s. “She needs a friend now, not more ridicule.”
“Thanks be to heaven that she has you, then, Edith,” he said with mock solemnity.
“And thanks be to heaven that I have her, for without Joanna, I would have to bear your tediousness on my own.” Edith smirked.
“Children!” Mrs. Colborne whispered sharply, though her eyes were soft. “Why is it that it is my two eldest I must remind to behave in the house of the Lord?”
Joanna smiled in spite of her frustrations. She could not have asked for a better friend than Edith, and the Colborne family had always welcomed her warmly. The pleasant feelings faded, however, as she met the rector and his family at the chapel doors. Rose, the third of his five daughters, was a close friend of Joanna’s. She gave Joanna a faint smile.
Joanna curtsied.
“It was pleasant to have you in our services today, Miss Leighton,” Reverend Beeton said.
Joanna did not miss the tone in his voice. “I apologize, sir. I did not mean to disrupt your sermon. In fact, it was—”
“Excuses do not change what has been done.”
Joanna’s mouth fell open to object at the same moment Rose whispered, “Father!”
He raised his hand to silence her. “It matters not. However, I do hope you will make a better effort in the future.”
Joanna’s face warmed again. “Of course. Good day.”
She bobbed her head, catching Rose’s look of sympathy before she walked away. Joanna pulled Edith beneath the shade of a large tree.
“I must ask, Joanna, what did make you so late today? I do not believe I have ever seen you tardy to anything.”
Joanna sighed heavily. “It was Mariah. She waited far too long to ready herself, making us late as it was, then she took the last available seat.”
Her eyes darted through the crowd, looking for the stranger who had accosted their pew, yet he was no-where to be seen. Instead, she saw her aunt, Mrs. Garvey, making her way toward them.
“I am sorry, Joanna. That man sat down just as the rector began speaking, so we could not tell him you were coming. I am certain he believed the seats unclaimed,” her aunt explained.
Joanna bit her lip. She did not want to credit her shame to a misunderstanding. She wanted to blame him. “Do you know who he is? I do not think I’ve seen him before.”
Mrs. Garvey shook her head. “No, I do not. He must be new to town.”
Joanna did not have an opportunity to verbalize her complaints due to the arrival of Miss Violet Marchant.
“Good day.” Miss Marchant curtsied to them all before turning to Joanna. “I do hope we can count on seeing you Tuesday afternoon, Miss Leighton. Mother doe
s so enjoy your visits.”
Joanna smiled. She had been going to the Marchant home every Tuesday for several months, keeping the elderly Mrs. Marchant company while Miss Marchant, who was only a few years older than Joanna, made her social calls.
“Of course I will be there. I am always happy to help.”
Her face relaxed. “Oh, thank you! You do not know how much help you are to me.” She then turned toward the other women and seemed to see Mrs. Garvey for the first time. “Oh! Mrs. Garvey, you are still here. Is your husband, as well? I have a question for him about Mother.”
Aunt Garvey nodded tolerantly. “Yes, he is just over there.”
Aunt Garvey and Miss Marchant bade their farewells and walked toward Joanna’s uncle. Edith watched them as they stood together and talked.
“I do not envy your uncle. He must stay very busy.”
Joanna nodded. “The life of a physician is rarely dull, I imagine. Especially in a sea town where so many come for their health.”
Her gaze landed on Mariah, who stood nearby, speaking to her friends. Their similar features left her looking far less than three years Joanna’s junior. However similar their dark hair and blue eyes were, their personalities could not be more different. The frustration she had felt earlier rose again. “I do not know what I am going to do about Mariah.”
Edith turned to her. “What do you mean?”
“We have always disagreed, as sisters do; however, lately she seems worse. We argue about the most ridiculous things.”
“Such as?”
“Such as curtains.”
Edith raised her eyebrows. “Curtains?”
“Yes! Curtains, of all things.”
“She wants to change them?”
“Yes. All of them. I do not see why, as I think they look quite fine. And if we do change the curtains, you know we must then change the wallpaper to match, and then of course the rugs as well.” Joanna bit her lip, the stress of the changes weighing on her already. She shook her head, hoping to shake away the anxiety as well. “It would never end.”