Mail Order Annie - A Historical Mail Order Bride Romance Novel (Mail Order Romance - Book 1 - Benjamin and Annie) Read Free

spend the night in a proper bed before you make up your mind what to do about your travel arrangements. You can stay there until the next train comes, if you still wish to depart. If you go with Benjamin Moran, you will have to travel by wagon for dozens of miles before you arrive at his homestead. Then you will have to slave over a hot woodstove to make yourself a poor supper before you go to sleep in a hay ruck. Why don’t you do yourself a favor and come with me?”
                  “Oh, I couldn’t do that,” Anne demurred. “I have given my word to meet him here. I couldn’t just walk away without at least giving him some explanation.”
                  “I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this,” Forsythe droned airily, “but Benjamin Moran is not the man that a lady like you would want to be going off alone with.”
                  “What do you mean?” Anne sat up as straight as she could.
                  “Benjamin Moran is…” Forsythe stopped himself in mid-sentence.
                  “Is what?” Anne persisted. “I would appreciate you telling me anything you know about him. I have only communicated him by mail. I know only what he himself has told me. I will be grateful for any information you can give me.”
                  “Well, since you insist, I’ll tell you,” Forsythe conceded, the faintest hint of a twinkle flashing through his eyes. “Benjamin Moran is dangerous, especially to women such as yourself. He somehow got another young lady to come out here and stay with him out at his homestead. I don’t know what he said to her to lure her out here. She stayed with him for two years. He never married her, and she must have lost patience with him because she finally ran away from him. She disappeared under mysterious circumstances. No one knows what happened to her. Most people around these parts think the worst of Moran ever since. I don’t think anyone else around here would want to see another young lady, especially one as fine as you, get mixed up with him.”
                  Anne tried to think of an appropriately self-assured response to this revelation, but before she could manage it, Forsythe leaned forward and lifted her hand from the top of the table. With delicate circular movements, he massaged her fingers with his silky soft skin. More than anything else, the further confirmation of his wealth and status in the smooth texture of his palm and fingers impressed Anne, and she softened to the idea of accepting his offer of a place to stay until she sorted out her own plans.
                  “A proper lady like you should be treated according to the style she deserves,” Forsythe purred. “I can tell that you are used to the higher things in life. You shouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life working your fingers to the bone in a drafty shack in a place like this. You shouldn’t have to break your back for a scoundrel like Benjamin Moran. You belong in a proper drawing room, sitting in front of a blazing fire on a brocade cushion, ordering your servants around and charming your dinner guests with your wit and intelligence. Forget about whatever Moran told you or any of the promises that he made you. Come with me now to my house. I’ll give you everything you need.” His melodious voice drifted into her ear with a smooth, creamy subtlety, mesmerizing her with the vision of everything for which she dreamed and yearned. His face drifted imperceptibly closer to hers, his pink lips tickling her imagination with pictures of luxury and comfort and haunting her with the horrors of a life with Benjamin Moran.
                  “I can see that you are a God-fearing woman,” Forsythe murmured on, tossing a passing glimpse at the crucifix at her neck. “My parents and I also fear the Lord and we would be honored to offer sanctuary to a wayfarer in need. My