The Most Eligible Bachelor Romance Collection: Nine Historical Romances Celebrate Marrying for All the Right Reasons by Gina Welborn and Kathleen Y’Barbo Erica Vetsch Connie Stevens Gabrielle Meyer Shannon McNear Cynthia Hickey Susanne Dietze Amanda Barratt
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sorry.”
Disappointment speared her stomach. “But we need you.”
“I’m involved in two competitions. The cycle race against Wilson might be foolish, I know, but cycling clears my head, and I need that right now, because the other competition is the most significant thing I’ve done in my career. May ever do.”
“You’re a finalist, too? Mrs. Humphries’s contest? Congratulations.” Although calling the International Architecture Prize a mere contest was like referring to a White House luncheon as a box social. The reward for designing California University’s new campus was global acclaim, cash, and the expectation of numerous contracts.
Theodora Humphries, the competition’s sponsor, was the state’s wealthiest woman, rich off silver like Daniel’s father. Her collection of European art was incomparable, according to Mother. And Mother knew art better than anyone.
Josie’s lips twitched. Had no one thought to invite Theodora Humphries to a Ladies’ Aid Society meeting?
Meanwhile, other, poorer women needed attention. “It’s an honor to be a finalist, but the plans for the university are due, when, June fifth? You have plenty of time.”
“Josie.” He rolled back his head.
“A paupers’ home won’t gild your name the way a university will, true, but the rewards are far sweeter.”
“That’s not fair. I’m trying to put Whitstone & Blair on the map, something I’ve poured years into with far less fruit than I’d like. Far less than my father would like—not that it would gain his favor.”
She sighed. Congressman Roger Scoville Blair had given Daniel a terrible time since Mrs. Blair died a few years ago, pressuring him to run for public office. “God didn’t create you to be a politician like your father. He made you to design things. Like homes.” She stressed the last word.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” His gaze probed hers.
She couldn’t meet it, after a moment. It was too discomfiting, looking into those long-lashed eyes. “I shouldn’t pressure you. I apologize.”
“You’re doing something admirable. I appreciate your tenacity.” At his soft tone, she lifted her gaze. “Why not ask Wilson?”
“He’s ‘too busy,’ too, at the drafting board and training for your race. Except he claims his new bride takes time away from those things. He shouldn’t say that. Nora’s a dear.”
“Of course she is. But perhaps he’s found matrimony a bit of a distraction—” His eyes widened. “Wilson placed the ad.”
“Mercy, no.” But now that Daniel said it, she knew it was true. Her brother made a competition out of everything he and Daniel did. And he liked to win.
“Scurrilous, outrageous.” Words bubbled up her throat on a boiling sea of fury.
“He’s wanted my head on a silver platter.” Daniel’s tone was neutral, but there was a firm set to his jaw. “I just didn’t expect him to be so literal about it. This deserves a call.” He stood.
“You can’t. He and Nora are in Sacramento until Saturday while their house is being finished.” Her parents wouldn’t be any help, of course, so she’d have to handle this. “I’ll be waiting for him when he gets back.”
“No need. I’ll set things right.” A tiny smile pulled at his lips. “Nice of you to protect me, though.”
“Wilson will be the one requiring protection.” A high-pitched cry reached her ear. “What’s that?”
He sighed. Then he gestured to his lunch. “Careful. It’s got teeth.”
Josie unlatched the basket. A white fur ball with bright blue eyes strained to leap over the side. She caught it in her hands and cooed. “If you aren’t the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Why did mean old Daniel lock you up?”
“Mean old Daniel can’t have cats at Mrs. Beake’s.”
“Then where did it come from?” She nuzzled its bitty neck.
“Estelle York.” He ruffled his hair, mussing it so a lock fell over his brow. “I think—this sounds arrogant, but I think
Disappointment speared her stomach. “But we need you.”
“I’m involved in two competitions. The cycle race against Wilson might be foolish, I know, but cycling clears my head, and I need that right now, because the other competition is the most significant thing I’ve done in my career. May ever do.”
“You’re a finalist, too? Mrs. Humphries’s contest? Congratulations.” Although calling the International Architecture Prize a mere contest was like referring to a White House luncheon as a box social. The reward for designing California University’s new campus was global acclaim, cash, and the expectation of numerous contracts.
Theodora Humphries, the competition’s sponsor, was the state’s wealthiest woman, rich off silver like Daniel’s father. Her collection of European art was incomparable, according to Mother. And Mother knew art better than anyone.
Josie’s lips twitched. Had no one thought to invite Theodora Humphries to a Ladies’ Aid Society meeting?
Meanwhile, other, poorer women needed attention. “It’s an honor to be a finalist, but the plans for the university are due, when, June fifth? You have plenty of time.”
“Josie.” He rolled back his head.
“A paupers’ home won’t gild your name the way a university will, true, but the rewards are far sweeter.”
“That’s not fair. I’m trying to put Whitstone & Blair on the map, something I’ve poured years into with far less fruit than I’d like. Far less than my father would like—not that it would gain his favor.”
She sighed. Congressman Roger Scoville Blair had given Daniel a terrible time since Mrs. Blair died a few years ago, pressuring him to run for public office. “God didn’t create you to be a politician like your father. He made you to design things. Like homes.” She stressed the last word.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” His gaze probed hers.
She couldn’t meet it, after a moment. It was too discomfiting, looking into those long-lashed eyes. “I shouldn’t pressure you. I apologize.”
“You’re doing something admirable. I appreciate your tenacity.” At his soft tone, she lifted her gaze. “Why not ask Wilson?”
“He’s ‘too busy,’ too, at the drafting board and training for your race. Except he claims his new bride takes time away from those things. He shouldn’t say that. Nora’s a dear.”
“Of course she is. But perhaps he’s found matrimony a bit of a distraction—” His eyes widened. “Wilson placed the ad.”
“Mercy, no.” But now that Daniel said it, she knew it was true. Her brother made a competition out of everything he and Daniel did. And he liked to win.
“Scurrilous, outrageous.” Words bubbled up her throat on a boiling sea of fury.
“He’s wanted my head on a silver platter.” Daniel’s tone was neutral, but there was a firm set to his jaw. “I just didn’t expect him to be so literal about it. This deserves a call.” He stood.
“You can’t. He and Nora are in Sacramento until Saturday while their house is being finished.” Her parents wouldn’t be any help, of course, so she’d have to handle this. “I’ll be waiting for him when he gets back.”
“No need. I’ll set things right.” A tiny smile pulled at his lips. “Nice of you to protect me, though.”
“Wilson will be the one requiring protection.” A high-pitched cry reached her ear. “What’s that?”
He sighed. Then he gestured to his lunch. “Careful. It’s got teeth.”
Josie unlatched the basket. A white fur ball with bright blue eyes strained to leap over the side. She caught it in her hands and cooed. “If you aren’t the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Why did mean old Daniel lock you up?”
“Mean old Daniel can’t have cats at Mrs. Beake’s.”
“Then where did it come from?” She nuzzled its bitty neck.
“Estelle York.” He ruffled his hair, mussing it so a lock fell over his brow. “I think—this sounds arrogant, but I think
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