Her Beguiling Bride Read Free Page A

floor where she’d shot a bushwhacker dead four years prior.
    “Ah, here it is,” Uncle Hewlett’s sonorous voice rang out. “Robert Billings.”
    “Billings? That’s the man I need to see?” Alice inquired.
    “Yes. He was Mr. Holloway’s cotton agent in Savannah. He’d certainly be the man with whom to start,” Uncle Hewlett offered. “I would imagine the demand for cotton is quite high in Europe right now. Billings would get you the best price, but only if you can guarantee to produce a goodly amount of cotton.”
    Alice blew out a heavyhearted sigh. “Surely we could produce enough if we get everyone involved.”
    Belle stopped outside the door and leaned against the wall as Alice continued.
    “Rather than everyone being in competition, I think if I convince them to all work together, then we’ll have a respectable crop,” Alice stated. She chuckled. “Maybe I’ll enlist Granny’s help to get everyone to cooperate. Even after I routed that gang of thieves, there are still those who are suspicious of me.”
    Uncle Hewlett cleared his throat. “Alas, outsiders have never been much welcomed here.”
    “I don’t care,” Alice said. “This land is important to Belle, and I’ll do anything to see that she keeps it.”
    Belle’s heart turned over. Hard.
    “And if that fails,” Alice added, her voice dropping to a whisper, “I’ll just have to step aside and let her marry that rich planter.”
    That was it. Belle stepped into the study. She ignored the memory-provoking scent of Pa’s pipe tobacco that still lingered in this room. Her hands found her hips. “I’m not marrying anyone.”
    Alice looked up from the elegantly carved desk that had somehow miraculously managed to survive General Sherman’s troops who’d burned scores of their other furnishings. Her tousled, short auburn hair wildly framed her face. Uncle Hewlett straightened from where he’d been leaning over her while they pored over the plantation log books. The pair of them looked strangely incongruous with Alice seated in her homespun breeches, suspenders, and white shirt and Uncle Hewlett turned out impeccably in a dark sack suit, vest, and creased trousers.
    “I do think asking everyone to combine their resources to sell the cotton as one crop is a brilliant idea,” Belle said, avoiding looking at the portrait of her father, which hung over the marble mantel. Grief for him still riddled her. “And you’re right. The locals might respond better to Granny, who has a knack for making everyone around her do as she says.” She couldn’t quell the grin that claimed her lips.
    Alice’s grayish blue eyes flashed with mirth. She rested her elbow on the desk and supported her chin in one palm.
    Never relinquishing Alice’s gaze, Belle circled the desk.
    Alice’s chair groaned as she leaned back and folded her hands over her stomach.
    Belle arched an eyebrow in warning. “I don’t want to hear any more talk about me marrying that man.”
    “‘If you can look into the seeds of time and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak,’” Uncle Hewlett quoted resoundingly.
    “Macbeth!” Alice chimed in, excitement evident in her voice.
    Belle waved her hand in dismissal as she eyed Alice and Uncle Hewlett. “Let me know what you need me to do.”
    If Uncle Hewlett felt chagrined at not being praised for his quotation, his expression did not show it. “First of all,” he said, tugging on the lapels of his immaculate black frock coat, “you need to go to Savannah and let Robert Billings know that Rattle and Snap is still very much in the cotton business.”

Chapter Two
    Belle stepped off the train at the depot in Savannah, Georgia, which teemed with soldiers decked out in uniforms of all kinds, both Confederate and Union. She’d never seen such a sight in her life. Accents of all kinds filled her ears. Northern. Southern. Foreign. Jaunty Irish music filled the station, and Belle noticed two men sawing away at fiddles