Claiming His Ward

By Marie Alexander

A sad beginning brought them together.

Elsie entered Jack’s household as a bereaved goddaughter many years ago, but she has blossomed into a beautiful woman. Jack has hidden his growing desire for his ward, fearing the consequences of a betrayed trust. For years, she has been his to nurture and protect, but now a new set of desires are seizing him.

Jack has always provided for her. But, of late, their tender friendship fractured. As it should. She must leave her guardian – as all young ladies must. She harbors no desire to go. How to tell the man who has given her everything that she yearns for even more?

They had always had a reason to restrain themselves, but after Jack’s daughter’s wedding day, he and Elsie are left alone once and for all. His vow of guardianship threatens to be overtaken by his passion. Her untouched beauty. Her pure trust in him. They draw him to the woman he has sworn to protect and shelter. Her innocence balances on the brink of desire. His unwavering strength. His never-ending kindness. They draw her to the man who guided her and possessed her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steamy eReads
• Release date: Mar 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005256708

Marie Alexander

Marie Alexander currently lives in South Carolina, USA with her husband and two children. She teaches English as a second language to professionals around the world. Marie specializes in writing westerns, romantic suspense, and children's educational books.

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Copyright © 2016 by Marie Alexander

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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