A Touch of Scarlet Read online

  Praise for Renee Ryan

  Journey’s End

  “Utterly charming and not to be forgotten, Journey’s End is Gilded Age delight.”

  —Victoria Alexander, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Powerful and inspiring. Journey’s End is a wonderfully rich and rewarding book.”

  —Gerri Russell, bestselling author of Flirting with Felicity

  “Renee Ryan’s heart-tugging story set in New York’s Gilded Age kept me turning the pages well past my bedtime!”

  —Winnie Griggs, award-winning author of inspirational historical romance

  “Ryan’s written a touching story of family, forgiveness, and a forever sort of love.”

  —Holly Jacobs, award-winning author of These Three Words

  The Marriage Agreement, an RT Top Pick

  “Fanny cares for Jonathon deeply, but she won’t marry him without his love. At a crossroads, Jonathon will have to choose whether to walk away or be the man that Fanny believes him to be. The elements of Christian faith are superbly woven into the story, and fans of this delightful series will surely enjoy this sweet tale of forgiveness, hope and redeeming love.”

  —Susannah Balch, RT Book Reviews

  Hannah’s Beau

  “With book two in her Charity House series, Ryan writes with passion and love, as always. She knows what readers expect and never disappoints.”

  —Patsy Glans, RT Book Reviews

  The Marshal Takes a Bride

  “Don’t miss this wonderful story about redemption and forgiveness. The characters are lovable, and likable, even at times when they’re not nice, and the faith message is interwoven without being overbearing and preachy.”

  —Patsy Glans, RT Book Reviews

  The Outlaw’s Redemption, an RT Top Pick

  “This sixth in the Charity House series is filled with complex characters and many endearing, familiar faces. It’s a fascinating addition to this delightful series.”

  —Susan Mobley, RT Book Reviews

  Dangerous Allies

  “Ryan outdoes herself with this latest offering—a mix of romance, intrigue and spies. She writes her characters with strong feelings and heart.”

  —Patsy Glans, RT Book Reviews

  Finally a Bride

  “I absolutely love books where the two main characters previously had a relationship that ended badly. Watching them work through past issues and forge a new, stronger relationship is so enjoyable. Garrett and Molly are great characters . . . Watching them open up their hearts and seeing them learn to trust each other was so sweet. Finally a Bride was such a great book and I definitely recommend it to fans of Christian romantic fiction (5 stars).”

  —Britt Reads Fiction

  ALSO BY RENEE RYAN

  Gilded Promises historical series

  Journey’s End

  Charity House historical series

  The Marshal Takes a Bride

  Hannah’s Beau

  Loving Bella

  The Lawman Claims His Bride

  Charity House Courtship

  The Outlaw’s Redemption

  Finally a Bride

  His Most Suitable Bride

  The Marriage Agreement

  World War II historical series

  Dangerous Allies

  Courting the Enemy

  Village Green contemporary series

  Claiming the Doctor’s Heart

  The Doctor’s Christmas Wish

  Stand-alone works

  Heartland Wedding

  Homecoming Hero

  Mistaken Bride

  “New Year’s Date” in A Recipe for Romance

  Wagon Train Proposal

  “Yuletide Lawman” in A Western Christmas

  Stand-In Rancher Daddy

  Published as Renee Halverson

  Extreme Measures

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2017 Renee Ryan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Waterfall Press, Grand Haven, MI

  www.brilliancepublishing.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Waterfall Press are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781503938663

  ISBN-10: 1503938662

  Cover design by Kirk DouPonce, DogEared Design

  To my beautiful daughter, Hillary Anne Nolan.

  Not only because you cried when I told you the plot of this story, but also because you inspire me daily.

  You are good and kind and courageous. All my heroines have a little part of you in them.

  Contents

  Start Reading

  American girls are . . .

  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 Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Discussion Questions

  About the Author

  For the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.

  1 Samuel 16:7

  American girls are pretty and charming—little oases of pretty unreasonableness in a vast desert of practical common-sense.

  Oscar Wilde

  Chapter One

  New York City, 1901

  Her chance for a happy future lay on the other side of the door. Elizabeth St. James simply had to enter her grandfather’s private study, say the words she’d practiced with her maid, and her course would be set.

  She reached for the handle, paused as her composure slipped. Fear of the unknown scorched through her. She nearly turned back. The safety of her comfortable life beckoned. It would be so simple to continue on as before, to pretend she could go on as before. But the need to start anew was too strong to let cowardice win.

  This was her opportunity to take control of her life.

  Elizabeth placed a palm on the door, fingers splayed over the carved wood grain. She knew she was stalling, knew she was losing her resolve with every second she faltered.

  How could she not be nervous? Once she pushed through the door everything would change.

  Shoulders squared, she shoved into the room without knocking. The smell of lemon oil, handcrafted leather, and freshly polished wood greeted her.

  The man seated behind the large mahogany desk did not.

  She’d made a mistake. No one entered this room without permission. For Elizabeth to do so now proved just how anxious she was to settle her future.

  The pounding of her pulse grew loud in her ears, a heavy, echoing thump, thump, thump. She looked up at the dark-paneled ceiling. The loops and swirls blurred before her eyes. She firmed her chin.

  Uncertainty had no place here. Though she’d celebrated her twentieth birthday two full months ago, for the first time in her life Elizabeth held the power. Well, a portion of i
t, anyway. And . . .

  She was stalling again.

  Lowering her gaze, she moved deeper into the room, one foot in front of the other. A few more steps brought her to within inches of the desk. She studied the head bent over a stack of papers.

  That she’d come to her grandfather, rather than seeking out her father, spoke of the role Richard St. James played in their family. Even at seventy years old, he was in peak physical condition with a full shock of silver hair, handsome features that had weathered over time, and a tall, lithe frame.

  Elizabeth admired him greatly. He’d grown a meager railroad venture into a vast empire that included everything from shipping and oil to a garment factory and a ladies’ magazine.

  Not many dared question Richard St. James’s mandates. Even fewer rebelled. His only daughter had been one of the few, to disastrous results.

  Something to keep in mind, Elizabeth.

  Her heartbeat picked up speed, hammering wildly against her ribs. Not from fear but from nerves. She was intensely aware of the door behind her, of the growing desire to turn and run. Then what? Disappearance into the demi-existence of her life?

  Unacceptable.

  “Grandfather?” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded hollow. Empty. If Elizabeth were to convince the St. James patriarch she wanted to take this step, she must be bold. “May I have a moment of your time? If you’re not too busy, of course.”

  At last, he looked up, pen in hand, a smile on his face. “I’m never too busy for you.”

  The startling green eyes that connected with Elizabeth’s were filled with affection and mild curiosity. He started to stand, but she waved him back in his chair.

  “To what do I owe this impromptu visit?”

  Clearly, he had yet to guess the reason for her intrusion.

  Her stomach dipped, feeling as if it were filled with a lump of cold steel. Despite the urge to flee, Elizabeth held herself perfectly still. She would see this through.

  “I have made my decision.”

  “What decision is that, my dear?” Her grandfather’s voice came out calm and steady, completely at odds with the importance of this moment.

  Elizabeth took a quick, steadying breath, prayed for some semblance of control. “I will go to London as you and father have requested.”

  There. She’d said the words.

  She could breathe again. The hard part was over. The rest of the conversation would go easier now. Except . . .

  After the first rush of relief, her shoulders tensed and her mind filled with worry. Her grandfather had not yet responded. Why wasn’t he speaking?

  She angled her head, more than a little confused. It was as if this were just another ordinary conversation, on another ordinary day.

  If only that were true.

  Surely, he recognized the magnitude of her announcement. “Grandfather, did you hear me?”

  He set down the pen and then leaned back in his chair. A succession of creaks and groans accompanied the movement. “I heard you.”

  He fell silent again.

  Elizabeth’s nerves frayed even further, nearly tattering at the edges. A part of her wanted to prolong this conversation, to wield the power she held, if only another moment more.

  Regardless of her grandfather’s lackluster reception, her decision to travel to London affected him as much as it did her. Richard St. James had riches. He had prestige and privilege. But he lacked the one thing only Elizabeth could give him.

  This was what he wanted. What he’d requested of her. And yet, he seemed so . . . unmoved.

  She had just agreed to journey to England and join other American heiresses who sought a husband from the British peerage. With her sizable dowry, she would purchase a husband for herself and a title for the family. “You are not pleased?”

  “I am very pleased. I only wonder if—”

  The rest of his words were cut off when the door swung open and Elizabeth’s father entered the room.

  “I have the Leighton contracts you requested. There are a few points that still need discussing. With Jackson on his honeymoon, it falls to us to decide the—” Marcus St. James stopped abruptly. “Oh, Elizabeth. Hello, darling.”

  “Good afternoon, Father.”

  He smiled broadly, the gesture a bit too cheerful, the look not quite authentic. “I thought you were having tea with your friends today.”

  Elizabeth resisted the urge to sigh. Her father’s assumption that she had nothing better to do than take afternoon tea was a reminder of how useless and empty her life had become. Or rather, how useless and empty her life had always been.

  “I came to speak with grandfather.” She captured her father’s gaze, held it one beat, two, and on the third she broke eye contact. “But now that you are here, I will tell you as well.”

  He nodded.

  She opened her mouth to continue, but he wasn’t looking at her any longer. He continued through the room, only stopping once he was behind the large desk where her grandfather sat.

  Still not looking at her, her father set down the stack of papers he carried and said something to the other man, something Elizabeth couldn’t quite decipher. Something to do with the contract he’d just set down.

  Both distracted by the pressing matter before them, the two men fell into a hushed conversation. This wasn’t the first time business had taken precedence over Elizabeth. As she’d been trained to do, she waited for them to finish their discussion. She tried not to let resentment take hold. It helped watching the two interact.

  I won’t see them like this much longer.

  The younger was an exact copy of the older in height, in stance, and, as of late, in personality. Her once mild-mannered father was gone. In his place was a man she hardly recognized. He no longer laughed, and he never suggested frivolous outings for just the two of them.

  There were other changes, as well.

  He’d aged considerably in the past three months. He was still handsome, with salt-and-pepper hair, sculpted patrician features, and broad shoulders. But he was no longer the carefree father Elizabeth had always known.

  Sorrow rippled through her. Then morphed into something darker when she thought of her mother and what she’d done to her father, to their family.

  All the antagonism Elizabeth had been holding back threatened to spill over, filling her until she thought she might explode. Her mother had ruined two innocent lives for nothing more than money and social standing. Even worse, the two women hadn’t been strangers. They’d been treasured family members, one lost forever, one recently found.

  Elizabeth knew the Lord called His children to forgive. She couldn’t find it in her heart to do so, not where her mother was concerned.

  Resentment flared again. This time, Elizabeth let it come, let it burn through her calm.

  “You look terribly serious, darling.” The words, as much as the worry in her father’s voice, jolted Elizabeth’s attention back to him. “Has something happened to upset you?”

  The gentleness was from another time, when they’d been close, when her life had been full of parties and her mind challenged with nothing more complicated than deciding what dress to wear. “No, Father, nothing is wrong.”

  Nothing she was willing to admit aloud. Not to him, at any rate. There’d been a time when she’d told him everything. Those days were gone forever. “I have agreed to travel to London and do my duty for the family.”

  It was somewhat of a shock that the words spilled from her lips with such ease, such conviction. For weeks, she’d struggled with what to do, unsure if she had the courage to leave the comfort and security of the only home she’d ever known.

  What choice did she have, really?

  Her world, which had once seemed so large and safe, had been built on deception. The family had secrets now. Lies had to be told to protect the St. James name, and Elizabeth’s reputation.

  As though there weren’t whispers about her already. The man everyone thought would become her husban
d had married her cousin, a woman Elizabeth hadn’t known existed four months ago. No one cared that Elizabeth had been happy about the match. They saw her only as the injured party and lauded her for putting up a brave front in the face of such scandalous behavior.

  “Very good, darling. As always, you’ve made the right decision.” Her father gave her one firm nod and then leaned back over the papers.

  Her grandfather followed suit.

  Elizabeth blinked. She’d been dismissed.

  Where was their gratitude? The acknowledgment of her sacrifice? She’d just agreed to travel across an entire ocean for the benefit of the family. If she found success, she would never return.

  They didn’t seem concerned about that part. They seemed to care only that she’d bent to their wishes. Obviously, it had never occurred to them she might say no.

  “You knew I would choose to go to London.” She could not keep the hurt from sounding in her voice.

  “Of course.” The response came from her grandfather.

  “But how could you have known?” She hadn’t made her final decision until a few hours ago.

  “My dear child.” The older man regarded her with pointed patience. “You may always be counted on to do what we ask.”

  You may always be counted on to do what we ask.

  In that moment, Elizabeth wished she were more like Libby St. James, the aunt she’d been named after but had never met. She wanted to be bold and brave, to rebel against society’s rules. She wanted the courage to run away from duty, all for the sake of love, for romance and passion.

  Apparently, she didn’t have it in her, as evidenced by her grandfather’s matter-of-fact statement. You may always be counted on to do what we ask.

  This was to be her life, then. She was forever to be the dutiful daughter and granddaughter, the good girl who could be counted on to obey without question.

  Elizabeth pushed back a devastating pang of remorse. She’d fooled herself into thinking she’d had a choice. There’d been no choice, only duty. No real option but obedience.

  Suddenly, she couldn’t get out of this house, this country, this family fast enough.