Emma: Bride of Kentucky (American Mail-Order Bride 15)

by Peggy L Henderson

  “Make sure to get Dusty out and let him have a good run in one of the larger pens for a few hours. He’s been a bit full of himself lately, and if we want to get any training into him this week, he needs to have his mind on business,” he’d called to one of the men. The colt, Diamond in the Dust, was the farm’s up and coming racing star, and Sam had high hopes for the two-year-old.

  “Where are you going, in that fancy rig?” the man had called back, and several of them whistled good-naturedly.

  “Picking up a fancy visitor. Gus is under the weather.”

  He hadn’t wanted to elaborate as to who the visitor was. Rumors spread like wildfire through the stables, and Sam wasn’t about to start a new one. If he was, indeed, picking up the future Mrs. David Benton, the entire place would be abuzz about it soon enough.

  After parking the rig along one of the side streets close to the train station, Sam had made his way through the hoard of travelers coming and going. He glanced at the paper the messenger had given him, and found his way to the platform when the noon train arrived.

  He’d spotted her instantly. A young woman with dark hair swept up under her fancy hat, and in a blue dress. She’d smiled at the conductor who’d helped her off the train, then looked rather lost. Sam had remained rooted to the spot, just studying her. She had to be hot in that wool cloak she wore. She’d looked around, no doubt looking for Mrs. Benton, then pulled an envelope from her reticule and started reading a letter.

  He should have walked up to her then, and told her he’d come to take her to the Three Elms Farm, but he hadn’t moved. He’d never seen a woman as lovely as this one, and a surge of anger raced through him. He’d tried to wrap his head around the fact that this was David Benton’s fiancée. How on earth had someone like her agreed to marry a low-life such as Benton?

  Sam had peeled his cap from his head and slapped it against his knee. He’d raked his fingers through his thick mop, then pulled his cap back on. Wasn’t it obvious why she’d marry him? Money. Miss Emmaline Waterston looked like a rich lady. The rich tended to stick together and wanted to get even richer. The wealth they had never seemed to be enough for them. She’d fit right in at the Three Elms Farm.

  Fifteen or more minutes must have passed, and the lady had looked completely lost, perhaps even scared. She’d started pacing impatiently. When she’d headed toward the ticket window, Sam had made his move. Time to get her to the farm, and himself away from her to clear his head. A woman like that was strictly off limits, and he’d chided himself for even noticing her in the first place.

  He hadn’t said a word to her on the ride out of town and along the country lane that took them out of Lexington. He’d focused on the rolling green fields, dotted with horses everywhere, rather than the woman sitting quietly in the carriage behind him. Amid the fragrance of spring bluegrass, he’d caught the subtle scent of her perfume every now and then, and he’d put the horses into a fast trot to get back to the farm as quickly as possible.

  Chapter Four

  Emma’s eyes widened at the impressive plantation home that sprawled before her. Once the carriage left the main road, she'd absorbed the beautiful scenery of a long drive down an elm tree-lined country lane. The scene of horses grazing in the pastures on either side of the lane had enthralled her. Several large barns and caretaker cottages had stood off in the distance before the main estate house even came into view. The openness of the land was so different from what she was used to in the city.

  Hawley jumped from the driver’s seat after the carriage came to a stop. He opened the door and held out his hand. Emma’s gaze left the house, her eyes connecting with the blue stare of the man in front of her. The excitement of the grand home drifted away momentarily in those blue eyes. She looked away, fumbling with her cloak.

  Hesitating, she placed her hand in his, the strong grip of his fingers sending a surge of awareness through her that was stronger than the one she’d felt nearly an hour ago when he’d helped her into the carriage.

  What on earth was coming over her? She should not be acknowledging the driver. Emma quickly stepped from the vehicle and pulled her hand away. Hawley’s mouth widened in a slow grin before he reached into the carriage and retrieved her traveling bag.

  Emma moved away from him to the front of the vehicle. One of the horses turned its head slightly, even though he was wearing blinkers, and nickered. A smile formed on Emma’s lips. How long had it been since she’d been around horses? A surge of anger raced through her. Not since her father sold her beloved Ajax, the horse she’d loved more than anything except her mother.

  “Thank you for bringing me all the way out here from the city,” Emma said, stepping up to the horse.

  The bay gelding sniffed her hand, blowing hot air onto her arm. His teammate craned his neck, looking for attention. Emma laughed softly and patted each horse along its nose. Too bad she couldn’t really feel their soft muzzles through her gloves.

  “Maybe I’ll come visit you sometime, and I’ll bring some treats,” she whispered.

  She raised her head and the smile froze on her face. Sam Hawley stood a few paces off to the side of the carriage, looking at her. Those blue eyes softened considerably from the way he’d looked at her earlier, and he even appeared to be puzzled about something.

  “I’m sure someone’s expecting you,” he said, nodding toward the house. He led the way up the stone steps to the wide portico leading to the front doors. Two massive white pillars graced either side of the front of the home.

  Emma gave each horse one final pat, then followed the driver. She lifted her skirt and moved up the stone steps to the door. She nearly tripped from staring upward, admiring the house. This was to be her new home? Butterflies swirled in her belly.

  A young maid opened the doors before Hawley had even knocked. The girl looked surprised and a flash of deep admiration passed through her eyes at the sight of him.

  “Sam?” she stuttered, and her cheeks turned rosy.

  “Just here dropping off this baggage,” he said quickly and practically tossed Emma’s traveling bag inside the door. He nodded at the maid and turned. His eyes found Emma’s and he stared at her for a second. He touched the brim of his cap and all but ran down the steps back to the carriage.

  Emma frowned at his rude behavior. His intonation when he’d said ‘baggage’ had almost sounded as if he’d been referring to her. She shrugged it off. He was heading back to the stables where he belonged, and she was heading for a new life. She raised her chin and inhaled a deep breath, smoothing the front of her dress with her gloved hand. She stepped inside the home, her shoes clacking on the polished wooden floor.

  Her eyes widened and she forced her mouth to remain shut. An impressive winding staircase that led to the upstairs rooms was the centerpiece of the large entry. Emma’s belly did a somersault. This house was already grander than her mother’s home in Boston. A smile passed over her lips. She’d done the right thing by answering David Benton’s ad in the Grooms’ Gazette.

  “Mrs. Benton is expecting you, Miss,” the maid said and curtsied slightly. She smiled shyly, averting her eyes, and stood aside for Emma to fully enter the house.

  Emma’s brows rose. “Mrs. Benton?” she asked. “I assumed I would be meeting Mr. David Benton.”

  The maid looked visibly pale for a second. “Yes, Miss,” she said timidly. “Mr. Benton isn’t home at the moment. Please, come this way.”

  Emma frowned, but followed the girl through a set of heavy wooden double doors into an impressive drawing room. Who was Mrs. Benton? A slight chill of apprehension slithered down her back. She was in a foreign place, without a penny to her name, meeting a complete stranger she would presumably marry. What did she really know about what she’d gotten herself into?

  With a pounding heart, Emma stood inside the formidable room. Large glass doors led to the back veranda, which overlooked fields and fields of pastureland separated by miles of wooden fencing. The white barns looked more impressiv
e than many houses.

  “Mrs. Benton will be with you shortly, Miss.” The maid curtsied again, and left the room.

  Emma took a hesitant step forward. Her hand ran along one of the couches, which was upholstered in ornate flowery fabric, along with the settee and several chairs. A large fireplace dominated one side of the room, while paintings of horses decorated the opposite wall.

  The door clicked quietly behind her and Emma spun around.

  “Emmaline Waterston.”

  An older, dark-haired woman swept into the room, her arms extended. She beamed a bright smile and rushed up to embrace Emma like a long-lost friend. Emma stood stiffly in the woman’s arms, staving off a sneeze from the strong perfume the lady wore.

  “I am so pleased that you’re here,” she continued in her distinct, southern accent. The woman held her at arm’s length and looked her up and down as if she was appraising a newly acquired, expensive purchase. “You didn’t say anything in your letter about how absolutely stunning you are, my dear.”

  Emma’s forehead wrinkled. She shook her head slightly and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that Mr. Benton showed my letter to anyone.”

  The woman held her fingers to her lips and gasped. “I’m so sorry. How rude of me. I’m Lizette Benton, but you can call me Lizzy. David is my son. And I’m so terribly sorry that David or I couldn’t meet you at the train station. Some unexpected . . . business came up, so I sent my driver. I trust him explicitly.”

  “I understand.” Emma choked back a remark about Hawley’s rudeness. Perhaps this woman trusted her driver, but how did she put up with his behavior?

  Lizette Benton led her to the plush couch. “Sit, my dear. I’m sure you’re very tired from your journey. Would you like me to call for some refreshments? Lemonade? Tea?”

  Emma shook her head to decline. It would have been nice for David Benton to have greeted her, rather than his mother, but she swallowed her disappointment. The woman seemed nice enough, and Emma had to make a good impression.

  “I have to apologize for my son,” Mrs. Benton continued. “He’s taken on the responsibility of managing this farm since the death of my husband, rest his soul, and it takes him away from the estate more often than he would like. He should be home later today or tomorrow, and he’ll be so pleased when he sees you.”

  There was an uneasy look about the woman, but Emma had only just met her, so she shouldn’t be too quick to draw the wrong conclusion. Something was unsettling about her false smile, however, and the worry that clouded her eyes when she’d said that David would be pleased. Was there something about her appearance that Mrs. Benton thought was lacking? Emma touched a self-conscious hand to her cheek, to sweep back some hair that wasn’t there.

  “I’ll be pleased to meet him, when he gets home.” She plastered a smile on her face, then looked around the room. “You have a lovely home, Mrs. Benton.”

  “Lizzy,” the woman corrected her quickly. “I have a feeling you and I will become good friends very quickly.” She patted Emma’s knee. People in the south seemed much friendlier than the elite in Boston. “We’ll have so much fun planning the wedding. A one-month courtship should be sufficient, don’t you think?”

  Emma blinked. Her heart rate sped up. The reality of what she’d done – coming to Kentucky to marry a complete stranger - was turning into reality. She shook it off. Many couples married by arrangement, and being a mail-order bride wasn’t so different from that, was it?

  “I suppose,” she stammered.

  From what she’d learned from her friends, a man who sent for a mail order bride married the woman almost immediately. The possibilities of an actual courtship made the idea of having been ordered like someone would order a new piece of furniture, a little less revolting. Even though the thought of marriage was still less than appealing, there was no other alternative. Had she stayed in Lawrence, she would have been out on the street by next week.

  Emma’s heart sped up. Her life wasn’t supposed to have turned out this way. A year ago, she’d been in Boston, content with her life. Then her father had announced that all of their money was lost, that he’d gambled it away on a bad business deal. Shortly after, her mother had fallen ill, and died a few weeks later. Emma’s spine stiffened. Her reason for being here in Kentucky was her father’s fault. Because of him, she’d lost everything.

  Emma glanced out the large windows onto the vast green pastures. She was fortunate to have seen David Benton’s ad. For this kind of wealth, she could marry just about anyone. If he was half as nice as his mother, she had nothing to worry about.

  Emma smiled at Lizette Benton. “I’m so happy to be here. I hope I’ll meet Mr. Benton’s expectations.”

  The woman laughed giddily, which sounded almost as if she were nervous, and patted the top of Emma’s hand that she held in her lap.

  “David will be very pleased, I’m sure, once he sees you.” She cleared her throat and glanced out the window. “I hope you like Kentucky, Emma. We breed some of the finest horses in the country right here in Lexington.” There was a distinct note of pride in Lizzy’s voice. “Our grass is enriched with limestone, which gives our horses strong bones.”

  “It’s spectacular, from what I’ve seen so far,” Emma said in earnest.

  Mrs. Benton smiled. “My grandfather bred horses when he came here from Virginia. The war devastated the breeding industry here in Kentucky, but luckily our farm wasn’t affected. We did lose a lot of good stock, but my late husband rebuilt our racing stable, and we’re very profitable.”

  Emma’s brows raised. “I thought Kentucky was a southern state.” The war between the states was long over, but there was still animosity between the northern and southern states. It had already crossed Emma’s mind that she was moving to the south.

  Lizzy smiled again. “Kentucky was a border state in the war. We tried to remain neutral, but when push came to shove, many declared loyalty to the Union.”

  Emma relaxed. At least this was one hurdle that she didn’t have to jump in order to be accepted by society in her new home. The question remained if the man who had sent for her would find her appealing.

  Mrs. Benton clasped her hands together and stood, as if she’d come to a decision. “You will have to tell me all about your life in Boston, but I’m sure you’re very tired from your trip. How about I personally show you to your room, and I’ll have Judith draw up a bath for you?”

  “That would be lovely.” Emma sighed. A bath to soothe her nerves and to relax sounded wonderful.

  She followed her future mother-in-law out of the drawing room and up the winding staircase.

  “My suite is on the other end of the hall,” Lizette chattered, looking over her shoulder. “David’s room is the one right here, but I’m not sure when he even slept in it last. He’s gone on business so much, and when he is home, he often falls asleep in the study, or the library.” She pointed to one of the doors and continued to head down the corridor. “You’ll be in the room at the end of the hall, to give you plenty of privacy.”

  The woman opened up the double doors at the end of the wide hall in a dramatic fashion and stood aside. Emma’s mouth gaped open. She closed it quickly and stepped inside. At first glance, the suite was larger than the two-bedroom apartment she’d lived in and shared with her three friends for nearly a year.

  Her traveling bag already sat at the foot of a large four-poster bed. The attractive pink floral covers matched the curtains. The room was furnished with a settee and a dressing table, over which hung an oval mirror in an ornate gold-leafed frame. Large glass-paned doors allowed for plenty of light, and led out to a small balcony overlooking the barns and pastures.

  “I hope you’ll be comfortable in here.”

  Emma turned to the woman. She smiled and stepped up to her, bringing her arms around Mrs. Benton’s shoulders. She blinked away the tears that threatened to spill.

  “This is more than I could have ever imagined, Lizzy. I’m sure
I’ll be very happy here.”

  Lizzy Benton returned her smile, although there was that same uneasiness about her as before.

  “Well then, I’ll leave you to freshen up. Judith will be up shortly with your bath. I’ll see you later at supper.”

  With a nod, Lizette Benton left the room. Emma glanced around. Was this for real? How had she gotten this lucky? She was not going to ruin this chance. Whatever it took, she would impress David Benton. It appeared as if his mother certainly approved of her.

  Emma walked to the doors leading to the balcony. She opened them and stepped outside. The air was crisp and smelled of spring. Sweet grass and the fragrance of flowers mixed with the faint odor of horses. It was an intoxicating scent. Her lungs drew in a full breath, unlike the stuffy and stale air she’d been breathing in the city.

  Her eyes scanned the fields and settled on the barns. A horse was being led out from one of the structures. The animal appeared fractious, prancing and kicking out its hind legs. When it reared, the breath caught in Emma’s throat. The handler looked to be having trouble keeping the animal under control.

  Another man moved up to the horse and expertly avoided the flying hooves. He reached for the horse’s bridle and seemed to be calming the animal down.

  Emma squinted. Was that Hawley? The clothes and the cap looked similar to what the rude driver had worn earlier. Trees obstructed her view when he led the horse along a fence line. Her hand and fingers began to tingle where Hawley had supported her earlier as she’d disembarked from the carriage.

  A soft knock on her door announced the maid, and a promise of a soothing bath. Emma abruptly turned away from the balcony and headed back into the room. Time to wash away the grime of five days of travel, along with the unsettling feeling of Hawley’s hand on hers, and prepare to meet her future husband.

  Chapter Five