Bronwyn Williams

The Mail-Order Brides


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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

      The Mail-Order Brides

      Bronwyn Williams

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      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

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

      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