âIâll Wait for You Forever.â
Heartbroken when her childhood love never returned, Rose Smith soon learned she had even greater worriesâshe carried his child. Ten years later as a housemaid in London, she encounters Samuel Blackstone. The kind youth she adored has turned bitter with success. Feeling out of place in Samâs high-society world, Rose fears what he may do when he learns of their sonâ¦.
A wealthy stockbroker, Sam is used to getting what he wants. And when he learns that Rose bore him a son, he wants to claim his family. But heâll have to convince Rose to trust him again if heâs to have any hope of meeting the boyâ¦or recapturing her heart.
âIâm not excusing my behaviorââ
âGood.â
Sam stiffened imperceptibly. Rose doubted heâd been treated with anything less than deference in ages. Where she got the brass to be cheeky she didnât know, but remembering he had the power to alter her life for the worse, she thought better of acting outright insolent.
His lips tightened, but he soldiered on. âI had hoped you might consider forgiving me on account of our past...association. We were good friends once, or donât you remember?â
Her fingers tightened into the arms of the padded leather armrest. As far as she was concerned, the word friend was an insult to what theyâd shared. Heâd been her reason to wake up each morning and her last thought each night. Even now, there were nights when he filled her dreams. Without him, sheâd been wretched. The world had been fierce and frigid. If not for the Lord and His guiding hand, she didnât know where sheâd be.
âHow could I forget?â she whispered.
CARLA CAPSHAW
Florida native Carla Capshaw is a preacherâs kid who grew up grateful for her Christian home and loving family. Always dreaming of being a writer and world traveler, she followed her wanderlust around the globe, including a year spent in the Peopleâs Republic of China, before beginning work on her first novel.
A two-time RWA Golden Heart Award winner and double RITA® Award finalist, Carla loves passionate stories with compelling, nearly impossible conflicts. Sheâs found that inspirational historical romance is the perfect vehicle to combine lush settings, vivid characters and a Christian worldview. Currently at work on her next manuscript for Love Inspired Historical, she still lives in Florida, but is always planning her next tripâ¦and plotting her next story.
Carla loves to hear from readers. To contact her, visit www.carlacapshaw.com or write to [email protected].
Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.
âPsalms 119:105
To Dottie, her favorite Andrew and our second chance at friendship.
Prologue
Devonshire, England
November, 1833
âPlease donât cry, Rosie.â Sam Blackstone gazed into the glistening blue eyes of the only girl heâd ever loved.
A few feet away, Ezra Starkâs magnificent coach stood ready to convey him to London and a new life filled with possibilitiesâa far cry from sleepy Ashby Croft, with its cob-n-thatch cottages and meandering muddy lanes that led to nowhere.
Roseâs slender fingers curled around the frayed edges of his open coat front. âIâm afraid you wonât come back to me,â she whispered. âI donât know what Iâd do without you.â
âDonât be a daft little goose.â He tried to cajole a smile from her, but the effort was a lost cause.
Painfully aware sheâd been abandoned by everyone else who should have cared for her, he pulled her close and breathed in the light scent of rosewater sheâd favored ever since heâd bought a bottle for her birthday last spring.
Her sadness tore at his heart. Sheâd endured more disappointment and hardship in her sixteen years than a soul should have to bear in a lifetime. All he wanted was to make her happy.
He kissed the top of her head, savoring the feel of her in his arms. He dreaded leaving her, but he had to go. Mr. Stark had made it clear he wanted to be away before the village fully awakened.
âListen to me, luv.â Sam dabbed Rosieâs tear-streaked face with the embroidered handkerchief sheâd fashioned for him last Christmas. âThis is our chance. Mr. Stark thinks I have a real gift for numbers. The clerkâs position heâs offered me is a stunner of a job. At sixty quid a year thereâll be no need for more gambling or thieving to earn our daily crust.â
He motioned to the ramshackle inn across the rutted street where she slaved as a maid for a pittance. The stagecoach waited out front and several travelers were already milling about in preparation to leave. âI want more for you than working your fingers to the bone day in and day out. Maybe someday we can even buy a cottage by the sea like we always dreamed of.â