Claiming His Ward: Sweet & Sexy Read online

  Claiming His Ward

  By

  Marie Alexander

  Come visit me at my

  Amazon Author Page

  Join the newsletter for deals and updates:

  Subscribe here

  Copyright © 2016 by Marie Alexander

  All rights reserved

  Join Marie Alexander’s ARC team for a free review Advanced Reader’s Copy of upcoming novella’s.

  She had known this day was coming for some time. Long enough that she should not feel such trepidation. She should be more prepared. But, as Elsie gathered another bottle of champagne from the kitchen on the day of her sister’s wedding, her loss was both joyous and sorrowful.

  Jack had bought a new table for the occasion of the wedding lunch. The family table was just large enough for themselves and the occasional company. This one—it filled the dining room in their simple home, leaving scant space between the brightly colored wallpaper and ornate dining chairs for Margie to clear plates and fill glasses. It made the quarters feel close and cramped. Nor was their house servant capable of keeping up with the dishes and glasses alike. Wedding guest were gathered around, at least twenty in all. Friends of John, young and vibrant in their masculine ways. Friends of Lauren, shy and coy—flirting with the bachelor's—hoping for their own happy match. The men were fine—appareled in bright, cheerful suits with carnations in button holes. They smiled and raucously congratulated the pair, bemoaning in faux tones the death of a fellow bachelor. The dear bride, Lauren, blushed and blossomed under their constant attention. The home was filled with more life and noise and youthful exuberance than, well, since the last wedding when Jack’s only son had left the house.

  For all the young men’s protestations, there was envy in their eyes. John had truly found love in Elsie’s sister. And that love made Lauren resplendent. The blissful mood of the couple was what brought joy into Elsie’s day. How could she not be grateful her sister had found such a match? John was handsome and a gentleman, and he had prospects to make a comfortable home with Lauren and any soon to come little ones. More important than all that, for Elsie at least, it was his eyes. He beamed at his new wife with pride and love. The sorrow, though, the sorrow came as well. Lauren was the last of Jack’s children to leave his home. Edward had taken employment in Bristol, and Abigail had married and moved to the country. The patriarch’s wife had died long before, and Jack had raised all four children with patience and kindness unparalleled. With the loss of Lauren, it would be just Elsie and the man she had come to see as a father. As so much more. And, the sorrow which emanated from him on this happy day tore at her breasts.

  "You're an angel for lending a hand, Miss." Margie, plumb and red faced, bustled into the kitchen with another round of cleared dishes. Picked over steamed carrots and bread pudding. The older woman had served the Nelson household since Jack's wife had passed. She had been the caregiver while Jack worked. She'd cared for all three girls—from braiding pigtails to orchestrating wedding feasts.

  "You ought to enjoy the day as well. It's a happy occasion. I'll come help with the dishes after the guests leave."

  "No you won't, Miss. You'll take care of that man in there." Margie added the dishes to the growing stack in the wash basin. "He's a strong one, but he'll be hurting. Lauren is the last of his children to leave him." She licked her lips, busying herself once again at the stove. "Not that. I didn't mean."

  A shade passed over Elsie. "I know what you meant, Margie. I don't expect to him to feel the same for me as his own blood. It's different between us."

  Margie set the steaming second round of bread pudding aside and turned to Elsie, a fist on her portly hip. She considered the younger woman with pursed lips and furled eyebrow. "That's not quite what I meant either, girl." Her eyes gazed off to the corner of the kitchen, looking for the words, but they didn't come. She gave up, waving a hand. "Never you mind that. Just get in there with that booze, or Master Jack will come looking for it."

  Elsie entered the dining room, and the smell of roasted duck and fresh croissants filled the air. Masculine laughter melded with feminine chatter. She toted her champagne bottle in hand, happy to be given a task to alleviate her jittery nerves. Jack sat next to an empty seat — the one she had vacated — and he was absolutely stunning. Tall, lean but strong, clean shaven. A black, open breasted waistcoat with bright yellow vest over a starched white collar and deep red bow tie.

  She laid her small hand on his shoulder, and he gave a slight start as though she had awoken him from deep thought. He tilted his head up, and when he saw it was her, a tender smile crossed his lips.

  “May I fill your glass, Jack?” She always felt awkward calling him by his Christian name in mixed company, but he insisted on it. She could not call him father—she was young when her own had passed, but she could still remember him— and Jack disliked the formal titles of godfather or Mister Nelson coming from her lips. He had put a stop to that when she was a little girl. He maintained it was unnatural for such intimacy and formality to coexist.

  He leaned back into her for a more confidential tone. “Yes, thank you, dear. I think I will be needing plenty more to finish the evening. Social gatherings of this sort have never been my cup of tea.”

  “Champagne, then.” Elsie let her hand linger on his shoulder as she tipped the neck of the bottle to his glass. Her godfather turned his head, and she could feel his hot breath on her fingers. She whetted her dry lips. She daren’t look into his eyes. Not at this moment. Not with the confusion churning through her young heart. Her fingers began to trial off his shoulder and down his bicep as she moved away. She was halted by a touch from his hand over her fingers. She turned to his handsome face.

  “Thank you, Elsie dear.” Jack shifted in his chair, and a change came over him. His polite, social-graces-smile filled with genuine feeling. He repeated his words, a deeper feeling emanated from them. “Thank you. I would be in Dante’s Inferno without you here today.”

  A sly grin appeared on Jack's face, and he winked at her. The simple gesture lifted both their spirits. It reached back into a tender past. Since she had been a child, Elsie had been infuriatingly jealous of Jack’s ability to wink one eye at a time as nonchalantly a summer stroll. He did it with such class and ease. Infuriating. For her, it was impossible. They would sit across the table from one another — Jack winking, and Elsie scrunching her nose and contorting into a ridiculous series of squints; she could never force her facial muscles to respond as she wished. Jack would wink, Elsie would crumple and twist, and they would both be seized with fits of laughter. The years had turned the game into a ritual. Champagne bottle in hand, Elsie wrinkled her nose, one eye twitched, and then she blinked in quick succession. Another failure. They partook in a conspiratorial moment. She squeezed Jack’s fingertips. The modest act of affection fostered the air of warmth which had grown between them over the years. She found the will to break away from him and move on to the other guests.

  Jack had begun his family young and was now into his forties, but he had retained his handsome youth and looked the same man as a decade earlier. Except for the pain which tinged his features on this happy day. The last of his children was leaving his home. He would be alone now. Only he and she, and Elsie was no family to him. He had treated her as kindly as she could have wished any father to behave, but she could never fill the place of a daughter in his heart.

  Nor did she wish it. As the years had passed and Elsie had grown from child to young woman, a myriad of changes had taken place both in body and heart. With her maturation into a woman, Jack had withdrawn from his role of doting father. No longer did he invite her sit on his knee while she read to him. No longe
r did he touch her cheek in greeting or press her hand to his lips when he left for his office. She was no longer in pigtails and knee socks. No, he was as a man should be with his ward. Respectful. Distant. And the distance pained her. He drew away at a time her femininity desired him to draw closer. Her newfound womanhood called out to him. The desire shamed her. She left it unspoken—unexplored. As it should be.

  “My dear Elsie.” A young, bright voice caught her attention. “Why so doleful? It is a joyous occasion!”

  Her eyes flickered from his champagne glass to the man. “Apologies, Master Doleman. I was thinking of how empty the house will seem without Lauren.”

  Young Master Doleman was a handsome—a friend of Lauren's groom—smart in his formal dress and clipped mustache. He leaned back in his chair and appraised her with a faux air of injured feeling. “You will pain me if you continue to rely on such formalities. I have told you. Henry. Call me Henry.”

  Elsie darted a glance toward the ill-disguised shot of displeasure that ran up through her godfather’s features. He recovered quickly, his polite society smile returning to his lips. For a man who insisted that she call him by his Christian name, Jack was unquestionably not favorable of her extending such liberties to the young men who visited their parlor.

  She dodged. “Perhaps I shall save such informalities for less ceremonial days. I do believe a wedding is as formal as they come.”

  Young Doleman’s eyes glistened, but he also darted a glance at Elsie's protector. A twitch of the jaw and the tightening of his grip around his champagne glass was his only tell of an animosity between the two men. He tilted his head in recognition of his defeat. “I am conquered by the lady. I shall choose a day which does not require kid gloves and top hats. I will come and visit you to fill these empty days you speak of. Nothing would please me more.”

  Jack set his jaw, and his lips drew into a thin line. He spun the stem of his champagne glass between forefinger and thumb, his dark eyes focused on the sparkling liquid. His body language contradicted his words upon each house call of Master Doleman. Jack was stiff but cordial. Elsie could not understand the reason for his dislike; Master Doleman was the model of a gentleman. But, she trusted her godfather, and whatever his reasons, they must have been deeply personal to himself alone—for he had recommended the young man as an agreeable companion — effectively giving his approval of a possible suit. She could not tell the man who had raised her that she desired no other. Nor that she was happy spending her days in solitude in this simple home, that she cherished feelings for no other man.

  She could not. “That would be lovely, Master…Henry.”

  A light came over the young man, and he laughed with ease. “Well, Miss Elsie, if Master Henry is as good as I can get, I will gladly claim the title.”

  Elsie finished her rounds, emptying her champagne bottle, and regained her seat next to Jack. Cheer abounded, aided by mid-afternoon champagne as the clock struck and time for departure drew near. John and Lauren would be catching the three o’clock out to their aunt’s small estate in Craster to the north for their honeymooning. One by one, the young guests took their leave of the newlyweds and their host, the father of the bride. As the house emptied, her new reality settled over her. Alone in a house with a man she had come to love. A man she could not have, who did not feel for her as she did him.

  They weren’t leaving quickly enough but neither was he ready for them to go. Their young friends — yes, they could leave but his daughter—Jack wanted to hold onto her. She was his lifeline to normalcy. His children had been his life for the past twenty years. He had worked and toiled for them. He had saved to provide them an education, an income and a dowry for his daughters. He had come home to the sound of their little feet thundering down the hallway to his arms. They had read to him and drawn pictures for him and sang to him. He'd battled his son in tree-branch sword fights. He'd made tea for his daughters doll house parties. They filled his life with joy. With Lauren gone, it would just be he and Elsie. That worried him.

  The small remaining group huddled into the front hall. It was a tight space, and bodies moved around one another to retrieve coats and canes. The narrow hall amplified voices and the clack of heels on hardwood flooring. His goddaughter bade farewell to the man Jack knew was soon to be her suitor. Henry Doleman had set his attentions on his ward months ago. Jack clenched his fist as the young man took Elsie’s fingers in hand and set his lips to them. He didn’t like her being touched. He didn’t like how Henry looked at her. He didn’t like the softness in the young man’s voice when he addressed her. Heat rose into Jack’s temples. He adjusted his bowtie. It was tight. Too tight. The hall was crowded. The air was stiff. All these people needed to leave so he could loosen his tie and remove his too snug, brand new waistcoat. Modern fashion was a bane. Young men who made eyes at his Elsie were a bane. They both made him uncomfortable and hot.

  Elsie’s eyes fluttered up to meet his own. The smile young Henry had goaded to her lips faded. Her gaze turned on her shoes, and she meekly pronounced her goodbyes to the boy. He was an ass. Jack was an absolute ass. She liked the boy. Why wouldn’t she? Handsome, well mannered, a fine family, good prospects. Young; her own age, someone she could have a long future with. He knew the animosity he felt was written on his face. A deep breath filled his chest and he slowly let it out, calming himself. He willed a good-natured smile to his lips and prayed that it reached his eyes. She deserved better from him. A single look from him had made Elsie believe he was displeased. Truth it may be, but his displeasure was not directed toward her. Far from it. He wished her to find a good man and have a happy life. His vexation was for himself alone, and it should remain locked inside his chest where it belonged. He knew how to remedy the mood in at least a small measure. He sent a slow right-eyed wink her way. The coy smile he loved returned to her lips, and she pouted at him.

  Now to let her know that her suitor was welcome to return. Welcome was not the right word for the irritation the boy caused in him. He was not welcome at all. But, for her sake... “Master Doleman, thank you for joining us today.”

  The young man started in surprise. He stared and blinked, his disbelief obvious. Buoyant gratitude spread over his features. He reached to Jack for a firm handshake. “Thank you, sir. I wish to be able to join you more in the near future…if that would be acceptable to you…sir.”

  Young Henry’s eyes darted from Jack to Elsie. Jack couldn’t help his response; his fingers curled into a fist. He took a deep breath and stood tall. He forced his fingers wide. What Jack wished and what Elsie deserved did not coincide. Not this time. It was not his place. He had been battling his selfish desires ever since Elsie came of age and the boys had turned into men. His jealousy cam unbidden. She had blossomed into a woman under his nose. The years had blended together, and it took the attentions of young men such as Henry for him to realize her maturing beauty. Immodest, un-fatherly yearnings rose in his chest, and he battled with himself on a daily basis to rid him of his depraved nature. It was not Henry that he hated. No, he saved that honor for himself alone. Elsie put her faith in him as a protector. He would be a brute to abuse her trust.

  He swallowed his longings. “We would enjoy your company. Both of us.”

  The joy in the young man’s eyes was unmistakable. It made Jack’s stomach drop and his heart go scattershot. It was the right thing to do for his goddaughter, but it would be the end of him. The end of any joy in his life. He dreaded Elsie’s absence the most of any of his children. She had become so much more to him than a daughter. She filled recesses of his heart with light which could not be touched by any other. His desire for her to remain with him was the precise reason she must go. The home of a bachelor was no place for a young woman. It wouldn’t be long before there were whispers concerning her virtue. He had aged, but he wasn't near old enough for the rumors not to begin.

  Master Doleman, a smile spread from ear to ear, made his final bows. His eyes lingered on Elsie, the young man
’s desires evident. Jack’s pain deepened. Both hands returned to balled fists. The door creaked shut one last time, and they were finally alone—just the four of them.

  Jack stood in the front hall, taking in his daughter and her husband. There was a vacuum of space and silence left behind by the last of the departing guests. The sun shone brightly through the front entry, and the hall smelt of fresh carnations from the wedding bouquet’s, and yet a forlorn darkness settled over Jack’s soul. He, Elsie, and the gayly apparel newlyweds stood together in an awkward silence. Father not wanting to say goodbye, daughter pulled in two directions. The excitement coursing between the young couple was tangible. Lauren pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth and pivoted the ball of her foot on the floor. Jack could read the hesitancy in his daughter’s body. She teetered on not wanting to leave her childhood home for the last time and wanting to run away with her new groom. Jack had sensed the same feeling—years ago—in his late wife. The love for a father competing with the love for a husband. The bridegroom, too, fingered his hat nervously, spinning the bowler round and round by the brim, shifting from foot to foot on the hardwood floor.

  Jack’s memories flashed back to years gone by. The young couple in front of him were a mirror image of he and his wife. He had also been a young man with a newlywed bride on his arm. He knew well the emotions and the physical desires coursing through John’s veins. He had felt it too. If he were honest with himself, he felt it now. Lauren leaving him like this—in a home alone with Elsie, it brought him back to a day when one woman was his whole life. All those years ago, Jack couldn’t have pulled his new bride out of her father’s house quickly enough. He'd had one thing on his mind. Being left here with Elsie, those feelings and thoughts rushed over him with unrelenting force. He yearned for them again—mornings of waking with the sweet scent of woman next to him, days of blissful companionship, nights spent in one another's arm. But, his time was over, and Elsie's was just beginning.