The Mail-Order Brides
St. Bride Needed A WifeBut the latest candidate was much too pretty to live amid a bunch of sailors on his desolate island. Ever since he'd first set eyes on fragile beauty Dora Sutton, something had gone wrong with his careful plan. The women he'd found for his men weren't working out, his books were a mess and Miss Sutton wasn't paying any attention to his orders.Dora Needed A New BeginningBut the insufferable Grey St. Bride refused to make it easy for her! From the moment she'd staggered off the boat, it was clear the handsome brute wanted her gone. But much more was at stake for Dora than wounded pride…. If Mr. High-and-Mighty St. Bride didn't want her, she'd just have to find someone else on the island who did!
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“I’ve got a proposition for you.”
Dora’s eyes narrowed. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to hear it.
“I’ll pay you fair market value for the house and the acre of land it stands on,” Grey St. Bride announced. Her jaw fell, and while he waited for her response, he went a step further. “I’ll even include a bonus if you’ll agree to vacate the premises within one week.”
By the time she remembered to close her gaping mouth, Dora’s fists were clenched at her side. Not even that could prevent the tremors that raced up and down her body.
Nor did it quell her sudden fear, her doubts.
Could Grey force her out? If he did, where could she go to start over? No matter how much he paid her, money didn’t last forever. She, more than anyone, should know that.
“No, thank you,” she said, her voice betraying her feelings by only a slight stiffness. “I believe I’ll stay.”
Blue eyes had never looked more arctic. “The devil you will.”
Praise for Bronwyn Williams
Longshadow’s Woman
“This is a perfect example of Western romance writing at its very best…an exciting and satisfying read.”
—Romance Reviews Today
The Paper Marriage
“From first page to last, this is the way romance should be.”
—Old Book Barn Gazette
“Creating multi-dimensional characters in a warm-hearted story, Ms. Williams draws you into the heart of her tale.”
—Romantic Times Magazine
#587 THE PRISONER BRIDE
Susan Spencer Paul
#588 THE QUEST
Lyn Stone
#590 SARA AND THE ROGUE
DeLoras Scott
Available from Harlequin Historicals and
BRONWYN WILLIAMS
White Witch #3
Dandelion #23
Stormwalker #47
Gideon’s Fall #67
The Mariner’s Bride #99
The Paper Marriage #524
Longshadow’s Woman #553
The Mail-Order Brides #589
To the keepers of the Cape Hatteras lighthouse, which includes our grandfather, E. D. Burrus, and our great-grandfather, Bateman A. Williams.
And to our sister, Sara Shoemaker, for duties above and beyond.
Contents
Chapter One
April 1899
St. Brides Island, on the Outer Banks
of North Carolina.
Considering all she had lost over the past few months—her father, her fiancé, her friends and her reputation—it was her personal maid, Bertie, that Adora Sutton missed most at this moment. Feet spread against the rocking motion of the boat, she tried to brush out the worst creases from her gown. The travel stains would have to wait. As for her hair, which was unmanageable at the best of times, all she could do was flatten it with her hands, pin it down and hope the wind wouldn’t set it free again. There was no way she could keep a hat on her head in this wind—it would be gone the moment she stepped outside.
“I’ll set your bag out onto the dock, miss,” said the young mate as she left the protection of the cramped passenger section. “Mr. St. Bride, he’ll see to it.”
“Yes, thank you very much,” Dora murmured, fumbling in her reticule for one of her few remaining coins while she scanned the bleak terrain for some sign of welcome. Merciful heaven, was this all there was? Aside from the bustling waterfront, she could see only sand, marsh, a few stunted trees and a scattered handful of rough cottages. A single road, roughly paved with oyster shells, crossed the island, leading directly from the waterfront to a tall weathered house perched on top of the highest dune. Before they had even reached the docks, the mate had identified it as St. Bride’s house, St. Bride being the name of the man who had placed the advertisement that had brought her out to this bleak, unappealing island.
According to Captain Dozier, the man owned not only the entire island off the coast of North Carolina, but almost everything on it. Dora had murmured a noncommittal comment and silently wondered whether the king of the island was, in reality, a dragon. Hadn’t some wise man once said, “Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t?” Perhaps she should turn back before it was too late.
But then, another sage, she reminded herself, had said, “In for a penny, in for a pound.” She hadn’t come this far to allow worrisome second thoughts to send her scurrying.
However, she did wish she’d chosen to wear one of her darker gowns. While the pink lent her courage, it was rather impractical. Now, instead of looking her best, which might have bolstered her spirits, she looked rumpled and frivolous.
Perhaps, she thought with a surge of bitter amusement, she should have worn scarlet….
The advertisement had specified healthy, capable women of good character, who were seeking a mate. The first few qualifications posed no problem. Small she might be, but she was far stronger than she looked. How else could she have survived the past six weeks? She was certainly healthy enough, if one didn’t count the aftereffects of mal de mer. The brandy Captain Dozier had given her had settled her stomach, but it had done little for her equilibrium.
