Grace, Bella - The Husband Contract [Brides of Bachelor Bay 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
Page 1
Brides of Bachelor Bay 2
The Husband Contract
Even after the arrival of a boatload of brides from the East coast, men in the Washington Territory outnumber women fifty to one. Without the constrictions of proper society and too few women to satisfy their needs, the men on the shores of Bachelor Bay have honed little more than brute strength and lust.
Looking to escape an unsavory fate back home, Olivia and her sisters secured passage to this untamed land. Olivia is under contract to marry, but tempted by debauchery she only dared imagine in Boston, she gives her heart and body completely to two men.
She would rather lose both Jack and Aaron than be forced to choose between them. Will her final decision cost her both of the men she loves, or is there a loophole in the husband contract?
Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 30,959 words
THE HUSBAND CONTRACT
Brides Of Bachelor Bay 2
Bella Grace
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
THE HUSBAND CONTRACT
Copyright © 2011 by Bella Grace
E-book ISBN: 1-61034-447-2
First E-book Publication: May 2011
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
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DEDICATION
For anyone who has ever overlooked the fine print or even the bold writing on the wall to risk it all for love. And thank you to Sofia Hunt for coming up with the intriguing idea for this series.
THE HUSBAND CONTRACT
Brides of Bachelor Bay 2
Bella Grace
Copyright © 2011
Prologue
1864, Port Steele, Washington Territory
Ladies,
Gallagher Logging and the Gallagher brothers welcome you to Port Steele on beautiful Bachelor Bay in Washington Territory.
You have chosen to embark on a journey rife with excitement to an untamed land of incomparable beauty where the trees are as tall as mountains, the water as blue as any sapphire, and the men outnumber the women fifty to one. To leave the comfort of civilization and the support of your families to journey west takes great courage, but you are all courageous women. Together we will write the history of Washington Territory and develop the foundation of future generations.
Thank you for joining us in our quest to settle this land. May you love well, live long, make your fortunes, and attain your desires.
Logan, Gage, Andrew, and Noah Gallagher
Chapter 1
Olivia’s Journal, December 31, 1864
Port Steele, Washington Territory
The New Year is upon us. While the town still lacks in luxuries and social graces are in limited supply, dates for the evening festivities abound here on the rugged shores of Bachelor Bay. There are simply too many choices of suitors for us to handle our options in a decent manner. I fear few of the remaining brides-to-be who made the voyage from Boston will remain in Port Steele with their honor intact until their wedding day. I hesitate to admit my dear sister Amelia and I may ourselves be tempted by the debauchery this wild land entertains. My new brothers by marriage, the Gallaghers, have been gracious hosts and have done their best to lead by example. I simply believe the men in their employ were raised to hone little more than their brute strength and, heaven help us, lust.
* * * *
“I want it tighter.” Amelia turned to the side, examining the length of her figure in the looking glass Logan had given her sister Lizzie for Christmas.
Olivia laid her book down next to her on the bench at the foot of Lizzie’s bed. “If I pull those laces another inch, they will either snap to pieces or you’ll be resting your chin on your bosoms all evening.”
They had been in Lizzie’s bedroom for the past two hours while Amelia primped and preened her already-beautiful features and scandalous curves to practically sinful perfection. Olivia would like to pretend she had worried less about her own appearance for this evening because vanity was not the mortal sin she succumbed to. The truth of the matter was she knew that no amount of combing, dabbing, and corset tightening would disguise her plainness or her lack of enthusiasm for the outrageous flirting Amelia had turned into an art form.
Olivia sighed. In Boston, she had experienced impulses that drew her thoughts into arenas a true lady would never enter, but here, amidst the loosened morals of this wild Northwest Territory, her unspeakable impulses haunted her more frequently than ever. Almost daily, she caught herself daydreaming of big, strong hands, bare skin, pleasures of the flesh that could only be satisfied by all manners of indecencies she dared not drift into thinking about now. Heat rose up from her chest despite the wet winter chill that hung in the room.
She reached into her skirt pockets for a fan and fingered the cameo necklace her mother had given her. Ann Marie Prescott would turn in her
grave if she knew such thoughts crossed her daughter’s mind. Olivia murmured a quick prayer for forgiveness and crossed herself. Surely it was simply the over-abundance of bachelors at her disposal that gave her such audacious ideas.
She pushed her glasses up her nose with the tip of her finger. Her saving grace was that she hadn’t fallen in love with any of the lumber men the way Lizzie had. But with the increased frequency of her salacious fantasies, she barely trusted herself to go to the required social hours anymore. She feared she may meet an available gentleman she hadn’t yet noticed and that in the throes of infatuation she may not be able to control her Jezebelian impulses. The same uncertainties made her hesitant to attend tonight’s New Year’s Eve party. If she had a choice, she would remain in Lizzie’s parlor for the evening and allow herself to be seduced by her own wicked thoughts and the pages Jane Austen had so scandalously penned.
She lifted her chin and waved the fan in front of her neck. “I fear my head is beginning to ache. Perhaps I should stay in tonight.”
“Honestly, Liv, do you care to find a husband or not?” Amelia faced her, delicate hands propped on her hips, and her rosy lips pressed into a practiced frown that appeared more impish than menacing.
She dropped the charade. Ultimately, the choice had already been made. She must marry or be forced to return to Boston when she and her sisters’ past caught up to them. Their uncle had already proven that he would not let them live in peace here in the Washington Territory. He’d already sent one person to track them down and could have cost Lizzie her marriage. Surely he would send another of his associates, or God forbid, come after them himself. She and Amelia would be well-advised to marry, and to marry quickly before their uncle could do anything to prevent them from fulfilling their agreement with the Gallaghers. She slid her fan back into her skirt pocket and laid her precious Jane Austen novel on the bench next to her. “Stop pouting. If it is meant to be, I will marry. Surely, the ratio of men to women alone ensures that my chance of failure is as likely as a drought in this mud-drenched territory.”
Amelia hoisted her skirts and crossed the room. When she reached Olivia, she turned around. “Yes, you must marry, but don’t resign yourself to settle, sister. With a little effort, you could have your pick of husbands. Now, do tighten me, please.”
As Olivia worked Amelia’s laces, Lizzie hurried into the room and shut the door. She stood with her back pressed to the wood, a worried frown creasing her brow.
“Sakes alive!” Olivia’s pulse quickened. Lizzie, the oldest and most practical of the three, did not panic over trivial matters. She was as statuesque and had as much fortitude as the towering Douglas firs that Gallagher Lumber and Timber made a fortune felling. Olivia had learned through the years to trust Lizzie’s judgment almost without question and that her facial expressions rarely revealed the true gravity of their situation. The frown on Lizzie’s forehead spoke volumes. Olivia’s stomach twisted into a knot, and her entire body tensed in anticipation of the words that were about to reach her ears. Whatever news Lizzie carried must not be taken lightly.
“Don’t just stand there scaring the wits out of us.” Olivia couldn’t keep the alarm from her voice. “What has happened?”
Lizzie looked from one to the other, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “A ship arrived from New York this afternoon. I can’t be sure, but Uncle Robert may have been on it.”
Amelia gasped. Olivia dropped the laces, letting them fall loose against her sister’s back. If they were not betrothed before the ship pulled away from Port Steele, they may find themselves on a voyage back East to endure the worst fate imaginable.
* * * *
Jack Bartlett walked down the ship’s wet plank and planted both feet on the dock. It felt good to stand on solid ground again and to finally be free of the insufferable company he had been saddled with since the ship pulled out of port in New York.
Robert Prescott was without doubt one of the shadiest characters Jack had ever had the unfortunate opportunity to become acquainted with. Perhaps the only thing less appealing than the man’s character was his personality. Rude, obnoxious, loud, self-serving and demanding only began to describe him. Furthermore, he was too vague about his business in Port Steele to be trusted. The small community of lumbermen would be best served if Robert Prescott’s presence among them was as brief as possible.
Jack pulled his hat down on his forehead and ducked through the rain as he made his way toward the familiar mud-caked streets of Port Steele. The businesses lining the main thoroughfare looked exactly as he remembered, but change was in the air. Good change.
Letters he’d received from his business manager, Aaron Lambert, told of the almost comedic chaos that had ensued since the Gallagher’s boatful of brides had arrived. A few lumberjacks had come into the mercantile so flustered by the sudden presence of the opposite sex and the possibility of fornication they’d mistaken Aaron for Jack while standing two feet from him, though they’d known both men for years. Admittedly, the resemblance between Jack and his business partner was uncanny for men who didn’t have an ounce of the same blood in their veins. They had the same tall, sturdy frame crowned by dark, wavy hair. Even their noses were similar in shape, almost too prominent but balanced by a square, clean-shaven jaw. The similarities between the two went beyond their physical attributes. Their taste in women and the qualities they each sought in a future wife were nearly identical. Any woman that one of them loved the other was almost certain to be smitten with as well. While Jack and Aaron had been mistaken for one another before, anyone who knew them both would only confuse their identity from afar. Indeed the lumberman who had mistaken Aaron for Jack had succumbed to the excitement that had gripped Port Steele in the wake of the bride boat. Aaron reported some of the men seemed almost feverish and delusional in their pursuit of a wife. He’d had to talk sense into a few who wanted to drain their savings accounts to order over-priced baubles from Seattle that the ladies accustomed to Boston fashions would turn up their noses at.
After receiving Aaron’s accounts of the fate that had befallen the giant, typically roguish men of Bachelor Bay, Jack made a point to triple his textile shipment from his vendor in New York. He ordered bolts of durable but feminine fabrics he previously had not had the customers for. He’d also shipped back a crate of assorted powders, perfumes, hair accessories, stationeries, candies, and even some silver hatpins and brooches for the slew of anniversaries that would soon be celebrated. At least he could supply the hardworking lumber men with affordable luxuries the women would be flattered to receive.
Jack reached the end of the dock and turned right toward the center of the modest business district and his apartment on the second floor of the building he owned. He made his way past a handful of storefronts, taking advantage of the overhanging roofs and wood sidewalks to get out of the rain and mud. He paused to shake familiar hands along the way, catch up on local happenings, and deliver brief news from the bustling cities a world away. The ten-minute walk to the mercantile he operated took nearly an hour.
At the end of the street, a hand-painted banner in celebration of the evening’s party hung from the porch rafters of the mess hall. Green holiday wreaths adorned each of the double doors and pine garlands wrapped around each of the porch posts. He smiled. Yes, the women had arrived. And not a moment too soon. Port Steele had suffered from the lack of a feminine touch for too long.
Unfortunately, he would personally have to suffer that very fate himself for a while longer. He had hoped to find a woman who intrigued him during this past jaunt to the East Coast, someone he could bring back to both warm his bed and stimulate his mind. The combination of intrigue, intellect, and beauty that he hoped to find appeared to be too much of a requirement to expect within a single individual, at least with the women with whom he’d had the opportunity to become acquainted. No matter that the female population along the shores of Bachelor Bay had boomed. He would have to wait until his next trip to find a wife
. Even on the off-chance a creature such as he was looking for had somehow been acquired by the Gallaghers, she would not be an option for him. The future brides were intended for and contracted to choose a spouse from the men employed by Gallagher Lumber and Timber. The Gallagher brothers had fronted the expense as an investment in their employees. Any reputable business man would honor such a contract as if he had signed it himself.
Jack stepped through the door of his store, removed his hat, and shrugged off his coat.
“There you are!” Aaron Lambert looked up from his ledger book and hurried around the counter. “I’d hoped to meet you at the dock, but we’ve had customers all morning.”
Jack hung his wet outerwear on the coat rack near the door and stepped forward to meet his dear friend and business manager. “Sounds as if I left the place in good hands.”
The men exchanged hearty pats on the back and good-natured ribbing before making their way back to the books Aaron had open on the counter. Aaron tapped the wide, leather-bound ledger book emphatically and nodded for Jack to take a look at the neatly penned numbers in two columns. Fat figures in the income column brought a big smile to Jack’s weary face. “Ah, the women are better for business than we’d hoped.”
“They are better for a lot of things.” Aaron chuckled drily, and gave Jack a knowing look. “And worse for others.”