Edward's Bride: Millshore Brides, #1

By Morgan Dawson

Josephine Lewis has been at the Millshore cotton mill for almost two years and has made many friends along the way. Life isn't exactly what she once pictured for herself, but it was enough. Or at least, she thought it was until the new matron arrives and opens her eyes to the possibilities that still exist out there for her.

 

Can Josephine gather the courage to leave what's comfortable in order to find happiness?

 

Edward Shaw grew up in a home where he knew fear and pain from a young age and he's been on the run from his past ever since. But when the opportunity arises to order a bride from the papers, everything he thought he wanted for his life, suddenly changes.

 

Will Edward be able to prove to himself that he's not the man his father was? And can he be honest to those closest to him about the wounds on his heart?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Morgan Dawson
• Release date: Oct 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215917343

Book preview

Chapter 1

Josephine

The constant clatter and hum of the machines that had been running all morning finally ceased and a faint ringing remained in her ears. Reaching up to wipe her forehead with the sleeve of her dress, Josephine let out a long breath, grateful to have made it to lunch.

Around her the other women that had been operating the looms that filled much of the room, filed out the door, all eager for some fresh air.

That felt like the longest morning of my life.

Turning her head toward her cousin, who hurried to fall into step alongside her, Josephine let out a small laugh. "You say that every morning."

And every morning I mean it.

Looping her arm through Rebecca’s, they made their way outside with the rest of the girls and the warm breeze instantly brought her relief.

It was a warm May day and spending the entire morning in a room with no windows allowed to be opened, was almost enough to suffocate a person.

Ahead of them were the rows of tall, brick buildings and among them, was the place she called home for most of the year.

Josephine had been at the Millshore textile mill for three years now. Sometimes it felt like the crowded room she shared with her five friends, was more of a home than she’d ever had with her own family.

Did you get a chance to talk to the new keeper this morning? Rebecca asked, her round, green eyes filled with a curiosity that Josephine knew often got her cousin in to trouble.

No, but I hope she’s nicer than Miss Crawley. That lady’s stare was enough to make me want to fall to my knees and cry.

Me too. I’m glad she finally left. Hopefully we’ll get a chance to talk to her during lunch. I’m curious to know who she is.

The front door of their boardinghouse was open as a few other girls went in ahead of them. They walked in, and quickly went upstairs to their room to wash up for lunch.

The other girls she and her cousin shared a room with were already inside, laughing and talking as they took their turns at the basin. Grace and Sadie were sitting beside Cecelia on one of the beds, eagerly looking over her shoulders.

Oh, Josephine! Rebecca! I was just telling the girls what a wonderful poem I read last night. I’ve written it down here, and I think I’ll pin it to my loom this afternoon, so I can work on memorizing it. Cecelia grinned, a small piece of paper held in her hand.

Josephine smiled and moved to sit down on the bed beside her friend, reaching to take the neatly written poem. Ever since arriving in Millshore, her love for poetry had bloomed as the other girls had welcomed her and Rebecca into the little club they had amongst themselves. Every Wednesday, after the workday was done, she and her roommates would sit in their room and share a new piece of poetry they’d discovered that week or read a writing they’d composed of their own.

Quickly skimming through the slanted lines that told of a great love story, Josephine rested her hand atop her heart. The words were constructed in such a way that one couldn’t help but feel the love that radiated off them. The first section stood out to her among the rest, and it almost took her breath away.

---

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

---

Oh, this is lovely indeed. Who wrote this one?

"Lord Byron. Isn’t it just beautiful? Can you imagine having a love like that someday?" Cecelia let out a long, happy sigh, lying back on the bed dramatically with a contented smile on her face.

Josephine stood to take her turn at the basin, splashing the warm water on her face. She could feel the thick layer of dust all over her, and she knew this mere amount of water would never rid her of it entirely.

I don’t think there are actually men out there like that, Cecelia. Audrey spoke up from where she’d been quietly standing by the door.

Like what?

Romantic. The days of gentlemen writing passion-filled poetry like that are gone I’m afraid.

Josephine couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her friend’s comment. Oh, Audrey, you don’t have to be so down on love all the time. Let the rest of us have hope that true love exists.

Well, you’ll be painfully disappointed. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Audrey said dryly, turning to head out to the hall.

As the girls made their way downstairs and into the narrow dining room, Josephine’s eyes were drawn to the far end of the table where the new keeper was already sitting. A few other girls were sitting quietly, poking at their bowls of steaming soup, clearly unsure what the new matron’s toleration of gossip and conversation would be.

Pulling one of the chairs out from under the table, Josephine sat down and hesitantly looked up toward their new keeper.

Josephine knew that the female guardians of each boardinghouse had to be strict because they needed to make sure the women under her wing were behaving accordingly.

Still, after working at the mill for three years, she was tired of Miss Crawley’s piercing gaze and way of speaking that was always laced with a touch of anger. She hoped that their new keeper would at least be of a kinder temperament.

Eventually, when the long, wooden table was full and each girl was looking up at their new keeper expectantly, the older woman stood and cleared her throat.

Good afternoon, girls. I hope you had a good morning. There’s no need for you to feel nervous about me being here. Go ahead and eat your lunches and converse amongst yourselves like you normally would. And in case you’ve forgotten from this morning, my name is Mrs. Durant.

Good afternoon, Mrs. Durant, they all mumbled more or less in unison.

A few moments of silence followed, until the first girl dared to speak to her friend beside her, and it wasn’t long until the room was filled with conversation.

Josephine raised a spoonful of the steaming vegetable soup to her mouth and softly blew on it, wishing it would cool off because her stomach was grumbling with anticipation. Just as she was about to take a bite, she paused, lifting her eyes from her spoon. She felt as though someone was watching her and sure enough, she soon located the source of this uneasy feeling.

Mrs. Durant had her hands folded atop the table and was looking at her with her head tilted slightly. The woman smiled in a way that was so unfamiliar in this usually strict environment, that she suddenly felt like tears were threatening to spring to her eyes.

That warm gaze and smile was the opposite of Miss Crawley’s, and it stirred a remembrance of her own mother that Josephine hadn’t felt in a long time.

Mrs. Durant stood and slowly made her way around the table until she was standing behind her, one hand resting on the back of her chair. Josephine craned her neck to look up at her, unsure why the keeper had approached her out of everyone else in the room.

Yes, ma’am? she asked, afraid for a moment she might be in trouble.

I was just sitting over there and admiring your lovely, red hair. It reminds me of my sweet Priscilla.

Oh, thank you very much, Mrs. Durant.

It’s been nearly two years since I’ve seen her. I helped arrange a marriage between her and a young man and then he stole her away from me. But then again, he treats her well, so I ought not complain.

Josephine nodded, unsure why Mrs. Durant was sharing all of this, especially since all she wanted was to eat her lunch before the bell sounded and she would have to hurry off back to work. It must be difficult to be parted from her for so long.

Yes, but they’re building a nice life for themselves. They moved out West and he started farming out there. You look just like her. Only she has brown eyes and yours are a beautiful, emerald green.

She sounds like a lovely girl, Josephine said, casting a glance toward her cousin who was looking between the two of them with wide eyes.

Rebecca gave her a questioning look, eyebrows raised.

What’s your name? Mrs. Durant asked.

Josephine Lewis. And this is my cousin, Rebecca.

It’s lovely to meet you both. I can’t wait to get to know each of you girls. I’ll let you get back to your lunch now.

Once Mrs. Durant was a safe distance away, Josephine leaned toward her cousin and whispered, Well, she seems friendly. Perhaps she will be better than wicked Miss Crawley.

Or she’s just friendly to people with beautiful, red locks like you. Rebecca smirked, before taking a steaming