Ruined

by Anders, Annabelle

  Ruined

  Annabelle Anders

  Contents

  Letter to the Reader

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  The Salvation Society

  Books by Annabelle Anders

  About the Author

  Ruined

  Annabelle Anders

  Copyright © 2020 Annabelle Anders

  Cover Design: Jena Brignola

  Edits by: Tracy Mooring Liebchen

  Proofing by Amanda Martinez

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  Letter to the Reader

  Just a note of thanks to Corinne Michaels for allowing me to participate in this exciting Salvation Series Shared World. I remember reading Liam and Natalie’s story in Consolation and Conviction and thinking how fun it would be to write a similar plot set in a historical setting. I couldn’t help but sign up when she opened up the world.

  Corinne and I did some brainstorming and imagined a story of one of Natalie’s ancestors experiencing similar challenges that she and Liam faced. What if this ancestor wrote her own story? And what if Natalie discovered her ancestor’s journal…?

  I’ve added some unique twists and turns for Luke and Naomi, and I hope you enjoy reading Ruined at least as much as I did writing it.

  An FYI, some of the characters you will read about in Ruined can be found in my Regency Cocky Gents series. I’ll post all that info at the end of this book.

  Meanwhile, enjoy Naomi and Luke’s story…

  Prologue

  Written by Corinne Michaels

  Present day…

  “Mom! Can you help me bring down this box?” I yell as I’m hauling yet another box from the attic of my parents’ house.

  I love them, but they sure love to keep everything.

  “Give me a second, I’m making lunch!” she calls back.

  Liam enters the attic, sweat trickling down his face and groans. “I’ve been through BUDs and countless schools with some of the toughest instructors and they have nothing on your mother.”

  I laugh and shrug. He’s not wrong. My mother is crazy, brilliant, and likes things in order, exactly like me. Lord knows it doesn’t come from my father who can’t organize a thing. “She had to manage my father.”

  “And you. You’re a handful.”

  He’s stupid, amazing, but stupid. “You should talk.”

  “Oh, I know I’m a mess, but what does it say about you?”

  “Me?”

  He grins. “You married me.”

  “That I did. God help me. And I let you knock me up.”

  Liam looks at my belly. “How is the baby?”

  “Good,” I reassure him. Each trip he asks and tries to tell me how I need to take it easy. Not sure how much easier I can take it when I don’t move.

  I reach down into the box, noting it’s yet another box of old books. “She has so many old books up here. I’m not sure why she has kept them all.”

  “Because she’s also a hoarder.”

  “She’s not a hoarder.”

  He lifts up some VHS tapes from a box. “No? And what, my love, is she watching these on?”

  I get up and walk over to another section of very old appliances and show him the VCR. “This?”

  “So she likes old things that probably don’t work?”

  “She likes my father.”

  He laughs. “And what about you? Is this a glimpse into our married life?”

  I walk over to my extremely attractive husband, wishing I could wrap my arms around him fully, but my belly stops us. “Maybe. Would you hate me if it was?”

  His grin is playful. “I could never hate you.”

  “Good to know.”

  “However, I will tell you there is not a single part of me that’s excited about you turning our house into this.”

  “Noted.” I lean up and kiss him. “Now, move boxes while I keep sorting.”

  He walks me back over to the chair I was in for the last two hours and stretch. I’m only seven months pregnant, but you’d swear I was nine. I’m so big and uncomfortable. Liam didn’t give me hell about this because my parents are moving to Virginia Beach to help with the kids while he goes back into the field in a few months.

  Liam hefts another box up into his strong arms. “You know, I pictured our honeymoon a bit more . . . romantic.”

  “I’m sure you did, but Arkansas has its charms.”

  “It does?”

  “Well, it has my parents and they’re watching Aara each morning so we can sleep in.”

  He raises one brow. “And they say married life changes couples.”

  I stick my tongue out to which he replies with blowing me a kiss before walking downstairs.

  I sort the box of books into different piles. Some will be donated, others tossed, and Mom says she wants to keep anything with a love story.

  A lot of these books are covered in dust, clearly not touched or read in a long time, but, I know how my mother is about books so I take my time.

  As I start to dig deeper into box number five, I come across a black leather-bound book with nothing on the spine.

  It’s old. Extremely old and there’s no title page. I flip another, being extra cautious because the pages feel like they could turn to dust if I rub them too hard.

  I turn another and notice it’s not a book, but it’s a diary.

  The name written on the page is Naomi Gilcrest.

  Now I’m intrigued.

  It’s definitely not my mother’s writing so I start to read.

  Just as I lean back my mother pops her head in. “Natalie?”

  “Mom, look what I found.”

  She walks over, looking at it. “Ah, I see you found your great, great, great, great, great grandmother Naomi’s journal.”

  “That’s a mouthful.”

  Mom chuckles. “I know, and I may be off and need to add a few more onto that, but you get the point. It’s old and Naomi’s diary is . . . well, great.”

  “You’ve read it?”

  She nods. “Your father’s grandma gave it to me when we had just started dating. She said her,” she pauses and then shakes her head. “However many grandmothers back it was for her had an amazing story. She told me about how detailed and intriguing her story was.”

  “Really?”

  My mother’s smile is bright. “Oh, filled with mystery and drama, like all the good ones are.”

  “Why haven’t you ever told me about this?”

  “I forgot it was up here, honestly. You know, if I remember, her life was quite a bit like yours in some ways.”

  I scrunch my nose. “Drama with o
ther women and a bad ex?”

  Mom laughs. “Well, yes, but I mean her love story. Naomi was a woman that struggled through life. She didn’t have it easy, especially when it came to men.”

  “We must not be the same then since I have Liam.”

  “Yes, love, you do, but you didn’t always, and neither did she. Her first husband, Arthur, wasn’t great and left her a widow.”

  I smile, touching the cover of the book lovingly. “So she was strong at a time that women were considered weak.”

  “From all that I remember, yes. She then . . . well, you know Lee, now that I think of it, she’s a lot like you overall. Not just your story but also who you are and all you’ve endured.”

  I open the book again, touching the ink from so long ago. “Then she must have been fantastic.”

  “She probably was.”

  “I’d like to read it,” I tell her.

  She looks around. “Why don’t you head down now and get some lunch. Maybe you want to take a . . . nap.” Mom winks. “You know, with that diary . . .”

  I catch on and shake my head. “Is that what you did when you napped when I was little?”

  “Darling, when you have a good book, you’ll do just about anything to finish it. I napped, took very long showers, and did a lot of time at the grocery store to get reading in.”

  All her secrets being exposed. “Well, then I may just do that now. I’d like to learn about her struggles.”

  Mom kisses my cheek. “And let me know if her love story was as happy as yours in the end.”

  I think about my husband and smile. “I will, but there’s only one Liam and he’s mine.”

  But I’d like to see if Naomi had anything like my love story.

  Chapter One

  November 1828, Milton Cottage, Dorset, England

  Mrs. Naomi Gilcrest studied the minuscule radish in her hand and shaking her head, tucked it into her apron. Although it was nearing the end of October, only a handful of her crops were coming to fruition.

  Resting on her haunches, she arched her back and then perused her garden. She had not been raised for this life, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

  She would not.

  Because neither had she expected that she would marry a man like Arthur, one who loved her so passionately.

  If only he’d purchased the seeds when she asked, they could have planted sooner.

  She grimaced and then smiled to herself. In one particular instance, she and Arthur had managed to plant early enough. Her hand automatically settled on her swollen belly. Very early.

  Too early.

  She had not been able to smile about it when she’d first missed her course. In fact, she’d been horrified.

  She’d met Arthur at the first ball of the season, along with several other members of his regiment, when luck had shone down on London allowing an abundance of eligible young officers to attend the Season’s affairs.

  Gentlemen wearing colors were simply irresistible and more than one young lady fell into a fit of vapors upon an unexpected introduction or request to dance. These bachelors had embodied all that was courageous, brave, and honorable, making attempts to resist them futile.

  More than one respectable debutante had emerged from the season… ruined.

  And Naomi, even at the ripe age of twenty-four, had been just as susceptible as the younger ladies coming out.

  Arthur had gained an introduction immediately upon spying her at the Willoughby Ball and he began to court her in earnest after only a few weeks. Despite her parents’ disapproval and rumors of his roguish reputation, she’d been unable to resist.

  Even now, her situation was by no means ideal. Despite her marriage, she’d lost the support of her family and many of her friends. Two weeks after Naomi informed Arthur of her—their—predicament, he’d stolen her away to Gretna Green in the middle of the night. The journey had been harrowing but also exciting and adventurous. After a rushed ceremony at the anvil, Arthur had brought her to Milton Cottage, the small property bequeathed to him as the second son of the late Earl of Tempest.

  As a result, she’d lost almost everything she’d known but was now married and expecting a child.

  As she’d oft found herself doing of late, she rubbed her belly. Less than four months away, sometime in February, or perhaps late in January, they would be a family.

  She stared across the field and around the small property that had become her home and realized the sunlight had turned a shade of gold unique to autumn. It lent an almost timeless quality to the trees, the listing stable, and the house. A breeze blew a strand of hair across her face and she brushed it away. A second, stronger gust sent a handful of fallen leaves swirling across the dirt and caused the trim falling off the roof of the porch to creak rhythmically.

  Unfortunately, the same uniform that had drawn Naomi to Arthur was the reason she had been left behind alone to deal not only with impending motherhood but an estate that was very much in need of repair.

  But those few months before he’d been called away—they had been magical, dreamlike.

  The trim groaned and then made a loud snapping sound before it fell to the ground causing her to jump. She inhaled a calming breath and reached down to pull another radish—this one even smaller than the last.

  When Arthur’s soldier’s pay arrived, if it ever arrived, she could pay someone to help her out with repairs. Although Milton Cottage suffered from years of neglect, she wanted it to feel like home to Arthur when he returned.

  He’d promised he would be back in time for Christmas and already she was imagining spending their first holiday together. She’d been compelled by his impending return to make little changes that would hopefully make a difference. She’d located a chest of well-preserved fabric in the attic and was slowly replacing the drapes on all of the windows. Meanwhile, her maid had polished so much wood that Naomi wouldn’t be surprised if the house perpetually smelled of lemons now. The lemon oil, however, was a great improvement on the musty odor that had been ever-present when Arthur had brought her here.

  A second piece of trim chose that moment to chime in with its own creaking sound but Naomi ignored it. She had so very much to be grateful for.

  As long as she wasn’t feeling too uncomfortable by Christmas, perhaps they could go on a sleigh ride, join carolers from the nearby village of Hull Crossings. She would make all of the goodies her mother set out at home over the holidays.

  She and Arthur would make their own traditions.

  When she wasn’t cleaning or gardening, left alone, without her sister or even her mother for companionship, Naomi had taken to writing. At first, she’d jotted down a few fictional stories, about knights and maidens trapped in castles, but when she’d reread them, they had seemed almost childlike.

  More recently she found the most satisfaction in writing her own story—falling head over heels in love with Arthur, how he’d made her feel, and then the result of her impulsive behavior. Writing helped pass the time when her body insisted she rest.

  She had so much to look forward to—the holidays, the return of her husband, the birth of their child.

  If only her parents could see fit to forgive Arthur and her. Surely, once they met their grandbaby, they would come around…

  “It’ll all work out,” Arthur had promised her on more than one occasion. And when she’d admitted the fears she had concerning his safety, he’d laughed and kissed her affectionately. She tamped down the panic that rose whenever she contemplated the possibility that…

  Stop it, Naomi.

  It did no use to imagine the danger he would inevitably place himself in. As a British Captain—he had no choice but to put himself in harm’s way while serving his country. He’d maintained he could keep himself safe. He’d promised her he would return.

  Once the baby was here, he would take her to meet his mother and brother. They hadn’t enough time before eloping, and he’d resisted a visit later, claiming he’d wanted time al
one with her before he would be compelled to leave.

  There would be plenty of time after his return, he’d assured her.

  He planned to permanently resign upon completing this last mission and live a quiet life as a family man and landlord, managing the holdings surrounding his estate. Everything was going to be just as it should be.

  Until then, she would do what she could to keep the estate from falling down around her. And she would be brave. She had their child to take care of in his absence.

  Whereas his duty was to protect and defend the British Empire, hers was to protect the life growing inside of her.

  Another hearty gust of wind stirred the leaves on the trees and, despite the warmth of the afternoon sun, a shiver had her hugging her arms in front of her. The little radish growing inside of her kicked, almost as though he had felt it too.

  Silly. Carrying this babe had caused her to become overly emotional.

  Hooves sounding along the road broke into her thoughts and did nothing to erase the unease she’d experienced only seconds before.

  Her first thought was that it was Arthur returning earlier than he’d said. She pushed herself up from the ground and then rose onto her toes as though this would help her to see the rider sooner. The man wore a uniform… He was whole and hearty and racing to be at her side. Her heart leapt. She’d be back in his arms in seconds rather than months.

  But as the horse approached, her heart dropped.

  The rider sat slightly taller and his shoulders were broader than Arthur’s. Whereas Arthur’s hair was an almond brown, this man’s was darker, more of a chestnut color.