Mail order bride a bride.., p.1
Mail Order Bride--A Bride for Mackenzie, page 1
Also by Karla Gracey
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Mail Order Bride - A Bride for the Miner
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Mail Order Bride - Bryony's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Isabelle's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Carolynne's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Anna's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Marietta's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Harriet's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Clara's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Maeve's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Sarah's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Susanna's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Frances's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Prudence's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Lisette's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Belinda's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Georgina's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Janine's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Grace's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Mayme's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Rose's Destiny
Mail Order Bride - Maddy's Destiny
Faithful Creek Montana Brides
Mail Order Bride - Montana Rescued Bride
Mail Order Bride - Seth's Bargain Bride
Ruby Springs Brides
Mail Order Bride - Catherine Finds Love
Mail Order Bride - Georgina Finds Love
Mail Order Bride - Carolyn Finds Love
Mail Order Bride - Bernadette Finds Love
Silver River Brides
Mail Order Bride Amelia
Mail Order Bride Camille
Mail Order Bride Mariella
Mail Order Bride Winona
Sun River Brides
Mail Order Bride - A Bride for Carlton
Mail Order Bride - A Bride for Mackenzie
Mail Order Bride - A Bride for Ethan
Mail Order Bride - A Bride for Thomas
Mail Order Bride - A Bride for Matthew
Mail Order Bride - A Bride for Daniel
Mail Order Bride - A Bride for William
Mail Order Bride - A Bride for Aaron
Mail Order Bride - A Bride for Gideon
Standalone
Mail Order Bride - Sun River Brides 9 book Box Set (Clean Historical Western Romance)
Mail Order Bride - Silver River Brides Box Set - Books 1 - 4
Mail Order Bride - Ruby Springs Brides Box Set - Books 1-4
Mail Order Bride 4 Book Box Set
Mail Order Bride - Faith Creek Brides - Books 1-10
Mail Order Bride - Faith Creek Brides - Books 11-20
Mail Order Bride
A Bride for Mackenzie
Sun River Brides: Book 2
Karla Gracey
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Mailing List And Free Book
Copyright
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Chapter One
“Annie, I need my reticule. Do you know where I left it when we came in from the recital?” Carolynn yelled angrily. Annie sighed. The girl could be all elegance when she wanted, yet as soon as her parents were out of the house, out came the hoyden and made a perfectly turned out young woman appear more coarse than a common fishwife.
“Miss Carolynn, why not try retracing your steps?” Annie replied patiently. There was no point in trying to reason with her once she was in high dudgeon, even though apparently this was her job until a new governess could be found for the two girls. She was simply too tired, and had too much to get done to get involved in Miss Caro’s petty concerns today. Mr and Mrs Hepworth had only just come into their money. Mr Hepworth had made a lot of money selling hardware to miners, and they liked to show it off in any way they could. But that meant a lot of useless trinkets and too much furniture and it was always down to Annie to make sure that the house looked as immaculate as possible. The sad thing was that they simply didn’t understand that buying everything new, and at the highest possible price, did not convey the appearance they longed to portray. It just made their home cluttered and made for more cleaning for their poor overworked staff.
“But however can I do that? I cannot go to the theatre alone and just walk back now can I,” the young woman added sarcastically. She was about to turn fifteen, and believed she was cleverer than anyone older or younger than herself. Annie was sure the phase would pass and the sweet girl she had once been would return, but it was proving hard to tolerate while she continued to have these tantrums over nothing. With a sigh she put down the silver coffee pot she had been polishing and tucked her cloth securely into her apron.
“Come now, you will surely find it faster than I Miss Carolynn,” she added as she reluctantly bustled into the hallway to try and calm the young woman. “Ask Miss Margaret to help you to search. Your Mother and Father will not be best pleased if I haven’t finished the silver in time for their supper party tonight after all.”
Annie had prayed over and over since her dear friend, Myra Gilbert, had left for Montana to become the bride of Carlton Green that a new governess would be found soon. Trying to keep up with the two girls and her chores was leaving her worn to the nub. She was sure she hadn’t enjoyed a quiet moment in weeks. Though the girls could be kind, and very sweet at times, they interrupted her all the time and that meant she got the telling off from her employer that her usual tasks were either not done, or not up to her usual standard. Mrs Hepworth in particular simply didn’t seem to understand that doing two jobs that both needed a person’s fullest attention would mean that corners somewhere had to be cut.
She turned her back and went back into the dining room and the seemingly endless task ahead of her, praying that Miss Carolynn would stop bothering her over something so trivial when she had so much still to do. But sadly, the young woman followed her. “But Annie, it has my letter from Myra in it. I would have thought that you would be as eager as I to hear news of how she is faring in Montana,” she said slyly as she appeared in the doorway. She was a dear thing, but lazy as a cat in the sunshine. Myra hadn’t let her get away with it, and neither would Annie. She simply didn’t have the time.
“I have my own letter Miss Carolynn, and I shall enjoy reading it when I have finished my work. I don’t know how you ever intend to keep a husband young lady. You simply don’t seem to understand that there is work to be done before you can play. Miss Myra would be heartbroken to think that all her lessons and her hard work had been so easily forgotten.” Even Annie could hear the uncharacteristic exasperation in her voice, and Carolynn flushed with shame.
“You are right. She would extol the virtues of assisting you as much as we can, and to be self sufficient. But she isn’t here is she?” Annie gave her a stern look. “Oh Annie, you can’t blame me for at least trying to take advantage of the absence of a governess. Who knows what kind of dragon Papa will appoint next!”
“If he did employ someone a little stricter it would be for your own good.”
“I know, I know. I am sorry, honestly. Is there anything we can do to help, dear Annie?” she said, moving towards the vast dining table, her doe eyes imploring Annie to forgive.
“Pick up a rag and polish everything you can see ‘til it shines,” Annie said with a smile, not expecting the girl to actually do an ounce of work, but it had been good of her to at least offer her assistance.
“Margaret? Come down. Annie needs a hand. Stop being such a lazy puss!” Carolynn called to her sister, leaving Annie open-mouthed. A younger, and quieter version of Caro appeared, book in hand. She put it down without a murmur of complaint, and both girls picked up their cloths and began to copy Annie’s example. Annie smiled at them kindly.
The girls really weren’t so bad, they just needed a little reminder every now and again of how to behave and to think of others every once in a while. Myra had told her just that as they had said their goodbyes, when the clever governess had been whisked off to the wilds of Montana by her handsome and dashing farmer. Annie couldn’t help it, she had dreamed of something similar happening to her for weeks after their departure. But, she was just a chamber maid. Romance wasn’t for the likes of her. She took her frustrations out on her work, and there was never a single bit of the house that wasn’t spotlessly clean because of it.
The afternoon passed swiftly. The girls were excellent company, and they worked hard. When they stood back to admire their work all three young women put their hands on their hips and sighed contentedly. Annie chuckled. “Thank you,” she said as they admired their gleaming work together.
“However do you do it, day in and day out Annie? I am quite fagged and we have done barely half the amount you did,” Carolynn said in admiration.
“I’m used to it I suppose, and don’t say ‘fagged’! Your Mother would have the vapors if she heard you.”
“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. And she would have the vapors if she heard you say such a thing of her too Annie! Now, may I please take M
“Of course,” Annie said with a grin.
“It is in your room, on your bed,” Margaret said with an exasperated look. “You really are quite stupid sometimes.” Carolynn looked at her, her brown eyes flashing in her sudden fury.
“You could have told me!”
“That wouldn’t have been half as much fun. And, you didn’t think to ask!”
“Get on with you, leave me to my work. I have a lot to do before tonight,” Annie said ushering them out of the room. “Get up to your room, and stay there. I’ll be up around six with the water for your baths; I shall be so glad when your Papa finishes getting the house fully plumbed and I can save my poor aching back! Remember your Mother will expect you both to be clean and presentable when the Montagues arrive.”
“Yes Annie, of course Annie,” they chorused as they raced up the grand staircase before she could scold them further.
Annie looked over the silverware. It was good. She wouldn’t have to redo a single piece. Her day suddenly felt so much lighter, a task that usually took four hours had been completed in just two – she may even get to stop and rest for a few minutes before supper after all. Swiftly she fetched her brushes and the big tin of beeswax polish and began to sweep and dust the grand dining room, the drawing room and the library. She had already ensured that the grand hallway and the water closets were all sparkling before she had accompanied the girls to the recital at the Opera House. She hummed as she worked, a tune she had picked up whilst there. She had never been in a box before, and it had been a shock to her how luxurious it was in comparison to the gallery at the very top of the theatre that she occasionally managed to save enough to purchase a standing ticket for.
When she had completed her tasks she glanced at the large grandfather clock in the hallway, and was pleased to see it was only five o’clock. She still had an entire hour before she had to assist the girls to get ready, and her final task of the day was simply to lay the table. She would have a full forty minutes to herself if she was lucky. She moved with haste to the china cupboard. They would be using the Lenox chinaware this evening. It was brand new, and very delicate. She and Cook had been almost nervous as they had unpacked it and washed and dried it carefully before putting it away. She took each plate carefully between her fingers, placing it delicately on each setting. She wiped the crystal glasses carefully as she put each one in place, and gave each piece of cutlery a final polish as she laid it in place. Glancing over the table with her practiced eye, she wandered slowly round the table, nudging and tweaking until everything was perfect.
The clock chimed for the quarter hour, and Annie grinned. She had achieved perfection in record time. Praising herself she headed downstairs to the kitchen and her rocking chair by the fire. She would put her feet up, read the newspaper and her letter from Myra. It would be wonderful to know how she was doing, and if she was still as happy as she had been the day she set off on her big adventure. Annie hoped so. She had been a good friend, and she deserved a good life.
The kitchen was abuzz, Cook had hired in a couple of ladies from her church to help her. The three of them were up to their elbows in flour, pies, and vegetables. It felt wrong to sit and rest her weary bones while they rushed around, so Annie grabbed a newspaper from the rack and headed upstairs to her room. It wasn’t much, but she did at least get to keep it all to herself. She looked around at the sparse furnishings, and was grateful she lived so simply. When you spent your life cleaning up after others – especially those with so many beautiful things that needed such special care, having nothing but a bed and a chest of drawers was restful.
She threw herself face down onto her mattress, and lay propped up on her elbows. She read Myra’s letter first. It was short but she was clearly happy in Montana, and couldn’t’ seem to stop extolling the virtues of her handsome farmer. Annie felt a pang of jealousy as she read her words. It all seemed to happen so quickly, so simply. But she was sure that not every woman who set off into the West in search of love was so lucky. Annie missed her terribly, and she longed to have a husband and a home of her own. She was tired of always caring for everyone else but herself.
She put the letter down, and picked up the newspaper. Quickly she flicked through the pages to the Society section. She loved to read about all the gossip and scandal. She knew she shouldn’t, but living vicariously through others was her only real pleasure in life. She was simply too tired by the time she finished her work each day to go out and be sociable, though it did mean that her nest egg of savings was growing safely and securely. She gasped as she read about her favorite actress being found in a hotel suite with a ridiculously wealthy banker, and about the opera singer who prided himself on being a family man being found in flagrante with one of the corps de ballet. To have such free time to make such foolish mistakes made her chuckle to herself. It was oddly reassuring to know that having wealth and fame did not necessarily make your life any happier – or make you even a jot wiser than those who served you.
She thumbed through the rest of the pages, wondering if anything else might catch her eye. She didn’t much care for the news; it was too often full of tragedy and horror for her liking. But occasionally she would find a story that gave a little ray of hope and stoked her faith in the goodness of people. Sadly, there seemed to be little of such interest today, yet she stopped suddenly when she reached a page she had not seen in the Boston Globe before - a page of Matrimonial advertisements. She couldn’t stop herself, her curiosity was piqued. She began to read, and was surprised at how many were actually from lonely women. She wouldn’t have thought any woman would be so desperate as to degrade herself in such a way in front of the entire world.
The greater majority of the advertisements were from men though, and from all over the country, even some here in Boston. Clearly finding a bride in such a way was becoming so common place that people weren’t just using it as a last resort. She wondered if any of them truly was as wonderful as their carefully chosen words made out - not one seemed to ring true to her. If they truly were such paragons, finding a wife should surely be no difficulty at all? But one simply worded advertisement made her stop and smile, a warm sense of connection settling over her in a way that felt like she was coming home.
A Gentleman of Montana, seeks a woman with a view to Matrimony. She should be polite and kind, and be able to make of his house a home. His needs are few, and his wealth not extraordinary, but there is enough to support us both and for us to consider a family some day. The subscriber is a man of simple tastes. All responses to Box 378, Boston Globe.
He sounded like her. She didn’t need much in life. But, she did want a home and a family. Myra had been lucky, why couldn’t she be as content with a match made in this way? Didn’t she deserve to have something of her own? Hadn’t she spent enough of her life alone? Surely she had more than made up for her mistakes by now and was due some kind of happiness? Maybe the gentleman might live near to Sun River and she would be able to visit with her friend? Eagerly, recklessly she penned a response and wondered if she had lost her wits as she rushed out of the house to mail it before she had to return to her duties, and the dull and uneventful life she knew she deserved.
Chapter Two
Dear Gentleman of Montana,
Good day to you, I pray this finds you in good health. I do not know exactly what to say, so please forgive me if my words seem stilted or even rushed. I have never done anything so impetuous as to contact you in my entire life. I don’t even know what possessed me to put pen to paper and write, but I just felt the strangest urge that I should regret it if I did not do so.
I am a chambermaid, and I live and work in a big house in Boston for a lovely family. I have been working extra hard recently as a friend left to get married and she has not yet been replaced. I have some education, but not sufficient to be a governess to two young women who already outstrip me in their knowledge. Yet, I try my best to at least teach them useful skills and try to keep them to their studies in comportment and manners.
I cannot say I enjoy being a maid, but I do get an immense sense of pleasure from seeing a job well done. I am a quiet sort, love reading when I have the time. But I am happiest when I am busy and have plenty to keep me occupied. I should very much like to correspond with you, to get to know you with a view to seeing if we might suit. I should very much like to be mistress of a home I could make with a supportive partner, and to become a mother someday.
