Название | A Bride Of Honor |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Ruth Axtell Morren |
Жанр | Зарубежная классика |
Серия | Mills & Boon Steeple Hill |
Издательство | Зарубежная классика |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472089373 |
Critical praise for
RUTH AXTELL MORREN
and her novels
THE MAKING OF A GENTLEMAN
“Engaging characters and a smooth, fast-paced story line make this a historical to be savored.”
— Publishers Weekly
THE ROGUE’S REDEMPTION
“A beautifully written Regency-era love story.”
— Romantic Times BOOKreviews
DAWN IN MY HEART
“Morren turns in a superior romantic historical.”
— Booklist
LILAC SPRING
“ Lilac Spring blooms with heartfelt yearning and genuine conflict as Cherish and Silas seek God’s will for their lives. Fascinating details about 19th-century shipbuilding…bring a historical feel to this faith-filled romance.”
—Bestselling author Liz Curtis Higgs
WILD ROSE
Selected as a Booklist Top 10
Christian Novel for 2005
“The charm of the story lies in Morren’s ability to portray real passion between her characters. Wild Rose is not so much a romance as an old-fashioned love story.”
— Booklist
A Bride of Honor
Ruth Axtell Morren
MILLS & BOON
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For Pastor Rafael Grey,
a man after God’s heart.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
London, April 1812
“‘I have found David, the son of Jesse, a man after mine own heart’.” Damien paused in the reading of the scripture and looked from the pulpit to the congregation below him.
St. George’s Chapel was filled to overflowing. Not due solely to his preaching, unfortunately, although his flock had been growing steadily in the last few years since he’d been curate there.
No, it was not the service or his preaching that brought most people out this Sunday to morning prayer, but scandal.
Damien’s glance strayed to the chancel where his sister sat beside her intended. Jonah Quinn, a man who’d escaped the gallows and been a fugitive from the law, had only last week received a royal pardon from the prince regent himself.
Overnight, Jonah, Damien and his sister had become objects of notoriety. The fashionable world from nearby Mayfair flocked to catch a glimpse of the man who’d escaped detection from the magistrates by hiding out in Damien’s own parsonage.
A rustle of someone’s prayer book pulled Damien’s thoughts back to the sermon at hand. His business was not what had brought people into the house of God that morning, but what they would take with them when they left.
“How is your heart with God today?” As he asked the question, his gaze roamed over the congregation once again, stopping here and there to make eye contact with a parishioner. Most quickly averted their eyes.
His attention was caught by a young lady in the front pew. For a few seconds, he lost his train of thought. She was looking at him as if drinking in each word.
Clearing his throat, he looked back down at his notes, wishing all his parishioners listened so attentively.
“Is your heart condemning you when you come before the Lord in prayer?”
Damien’s voice grew soft and there was little sound coming from the congregation. He continued to ask the probing questions, questions he himself had dealt with in his earlier life when he’d felt inadequate to fill the shoes of a preacher.
“God’s word tells us that there is no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus.” He grasped the sides of the pulpit, his voice rising. He no longer needed to look down at his notes as his words tumbled forth.
His attention returned time and again to the young lady. Her look never wavered. What had brought her this morning? She certainly didn’t behave like those interested in the latest scandal. Not once had her glance drifted toward Jonah, unlike so many of the congregation.
The young lady was sitting beside an older woman. Damien recognized neither. Both were fashionably dressed. Were they part of the Mayfair crowd squeezed into the pews that morning?
As soon as the service was over, Damien went into the vestry to remove his stole and surplice, then made his way to the church’s entry in his black cassock to greet the parishioners. Thinking of the moment he would face the young lady, he felt a brief qualm as he listened to the tap of his wooden leg against the hard floor. Would a flicker of distaste mar her pretty features? The worry was quickly gone. What did it matter what she thought? Chastising himself briefly for his vanity, he joined his sister and Jonah who were already at the door.
“Good morning, Reverend Hathaway. Wonderful sermon.” He returned handshakes and greetings, thanking those who commended him on the sermon.
Many of those who were strangers hardly gave him a nod before turning an eager eye to Florence and Jonah. Damien glanced their way but saw at once that his future brother-in-law didn’t need help from him. Jonah shook hands and smiled broadly at one and all, answering those who were bold enough to ask him about his pardon.
He chuckled, rubbing his muscular