Read Dacey: Bride of North Carolina (Amercan Mail-Order Bride 12) for Free Online Page A

she could draw with the corset cutting off her air supply, Dacey stepped into the dining room.
    Pale yellow walls appeared welcoming in the evening light. Yellow velvet drapes covered the long windows while yellow silk fabric cushioned the chairs placed around the long table. Ornate chandeliers twinkled overhead.
    Dacey took a moment to stare in wonder at the lights, transfixed by their sparkle. Beatrice rushed to her side and took her hand then led her over to the table.
    “Darling, I want you to meet my husband, Daniel Douglas.” Beatrice beamed at her as Dacey bowed her head politely to Mr. Douglas. “Daniel, this is Dacey Butler, our special guest.”
    As Daniel approached her, Dacey could see where Braxton got his height and broad shoulders. The two men bore a striking resemblance, even if Braxton did share his mother’s dark hair and gray eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that Daniel Douglas had been an extremely handsome man in his day since he still appeared quite attractive.
    “Welcome, my dear. My wife says you’ll be staying on for a while. I do hope you’ll be here for the holidays. The house just comes alive at Christmastime.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Douglas. I haven’t made plans that far into the future, but I do appreciate your invitation, sir.”
    Daniel took her elbow and led her to a chair at the table, seating her before turning to seat Beatrice. “Please, call me Daniel. We don’t stand on a lot of formal nonsense around here.”
    Dacey enjoyed a pleasant meal with the couple. After dinner, they adjourned to a room filled with musical instruments. While she and Daniel listened, Beatrice played a few selections on a harp.
    In all her life, Dacey didn’t think she’d ever heard anything as soothing or divine. Thoroughly intrigued, she sat on the edge of her seat, raptly listening. Beatrice expertly coaxed the strings to release haunting notes that sounded almost ethereal. Goosebumps broke out on Dacey’s arms as she lost herself in the music.
    As Beatrice finished her performance, clapping at the doorway drew Dacey’s gaze to where Braxton casually lounged against the frame.
    “That was lovely as always, Mother.”
    “Thank you, sweetheart.” Beatrice rose from her seat at the harp and held her hand out to her son. After a moment of hesitation, he walked to her and took it, leading her over to a settee positioned near the fireplace where Dacey sat, unable to mask her open look of curiosity.
     “You missed dinner.” Beatrice surreptitiously studied the way her son’s gaze lingered on their guest.
    “I wasn’t hungry,” Braxton lied. He’d been starving, but the last thing he wanted to do was sit across the table from Dacey, staring into her lovely eyes and wondering if the creamy curve of her cheek would feel like smooth satin beneath his fingers.
    Instead, he’d gone to the kitchen and begged Cook to fix him a plate of food that he ate outside on the back porch.
    In the solitude there, he mulled over his options.
    He could hide out the entire time his mother insisted on Dacey staying at Bramble Hall, skulking around corners and cowering in the shadows.
    Alternatively, he could boldly go through his days as he normally would, be polite to the poor girl, but maintain his stance that marriage was not for him.
    Honestly, he had no idea what had gotten into his mother. He supposed he was partially to blame. In the spring, he’d spent a few weeks courting a young woman from a wealthy family his father lauded as marriageable material.
    Pretty and charming on the surface, Miranda was also manipulative and one of the most mean-spirited individuals he’d ever met.
    Braxton quickly tired of her incessant chatter about matters of little importance and the nasty comments she uttered about everyone. When he tried to break things off, she accused him of nefarious deeds, attempting to create a scandal. In the wake of that disaster, his father had paraded an endless stream of eligible young women