Reason and Romance (The Jane Austen Series)

White Smith Debra

Description

"Smith shows her expertise with Jane Austen's work. . . . A fun and well-crafted romance through and through."--RT Book Reviews on Reason and RomanceReason and Romance: A Contemporary Retelling of Sense and SensibilitySisters Elaina and Anna Woods find themselves caught up in whirlwind romances. But when both are confronted with heartbreaking revelations, can their bond withstand the strain as they hold out for happily-ever-after?

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 05 juin 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781493414185
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2004 by Debra White Smith
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Bethany House edition published 2018
Previously published by Harvest House Publishers.
Ebook edition created 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-1418-5
Quotes from Sense and Sensibility are taken from Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility, in The Complete Novels of Jane Austen, vol. 1 (New York: Modern Library, 1992).
Cover design by Connie Gabbert
Author is represented by Alive Literary Agency
Contents

Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Cast
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
Dedication
For my wonderful Vietnamese princess, my daughter, Brooke Debra Smith.
Cast

Anna Woods: Based on Marianne Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility. Flighty yet innocent, Anna is Elaina Woods’ younger sister.
Bryan Brixby: Based on Colonel Brandon from Sense and Sensibility. Bryan is a medical doctor and harbors a mysterious past.
Pearl Farris: Based on Mrs. Ferrars from Sense and Sensibility, Pearl is Ted Farris’s mother.
Elaina Woods: Based on Elinor Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility. A recent PhD graduate, Elaina begins her teaching career at Southern Christian University in Lakeland, Oklahoma. She is Margaret Woods’ daughter and Anna’s elder sister.
Faye Woods: Based on Fanny Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility. Faye is Elaina and Anna Woods’ sister-in-law.
Joseph Woods: Based on John Dashwood Sr. from Sense and Sensibility. Joseph is Elaina and Anna’s father and Margaret Woods’ husband.
Jake Woods: Based on John Dashwood Jr. from Sense and Sensibility. Jake is Elaina and Anna Woods’ half brother.
Jeanna Harley: Based on Mrs. Jennings from Sense and Sensibility. Jeanna is a wealthy and fun-loving cousin to Margaret Woods.
Lorna Starr: Based on Lucy Steele from Sense and Sensibility. Lorna is Ted Farris’s fiancée.
Margaret Woods: Based on Mrs. John Dashwood Sr. from Sense and Sensibility. Margaret is Elaina and Anna Woods’ mother.
Noah Harley: Based on Sir John Middleton from Sense and Sensibility. Noah is as merry as his wife, Jeanna.
Robert Farris: Based on Charles Ferrars from Sense and Sensibility. Robert is Ted Farris’s elder brother and president of the family aviation business.
Ted Farris: Based on Edward Ferrars from Sense and Sensibility. Ted is a concert pianist and Elaina’s student.
Willis Kenney: Based upon Willoughby from Sense and Sensibility. Willis is a handsome model who enchants Anna Woods.
One

Elaina stepped into her father’s ICU room. The smell of antiseptic did little to assure her that her dad had awakened from the coma for good. She paused before approaching the white-swathed bed. A haunting precognition insisted this would be the last time she spoke with her childhood hero. He struggled for every breath with a rasp and wheeze that nearly took Elaina under. Two days ago, Joseph Woods Sr. had slipped into a coma after a massive heart attack. This morning, the doctor hinted that Joseph wouldn’t survive the night.
By a divine miracle, her father burst from the dark an hour ago. The initial report elated Elaina and her family. Optimism flared, and for the first time in two days she hoped her father might recover. Soon after the doctor announced his consciousness, Joseph insisted upon talking to Margaret Woods, his second wife and Elaina’s mother.
Margaret came from the brief conference, settled in the waiting room’s corner, and gently wept. She shared no news with either of her daughters, only choked tears and the claim, “He’s going . . . he’s going.”
Elaina’s hopes disappeared.
Then Joseph summoned his first child, Elaina’s half brother, Jake. The forty-five-year-old man returned from the visit, his face white and stony, as if he were a marble statue filled with a bilious brew that could find no release.
“He wants you next.” Jake had dropped the tightly spoken words in front of Elaina as if he were choking on them.
Now Elaina moved farther into the room. She stepped to the bedside, gripped the cool, metal rail, and stared into the graying face of the man she called Daddy. Her eyes stinging, Elaina wadded the hem of her cotton blouse. She placed her unsteady fingers on his forehead and whispered, “Daddy?”
His head tilted toward her voice, then his eyes slid open. “My favorite redhead,” he mumbled with the shadow of an adoring smile.
“Hey there, you gave us all a terrible scare,” Elaina chided.
“I’m leaving, Elaina,” he whispered.
“But—”
“No, l-listen,” he continued, and barely lifted his wrinkled index finger off the bedspread.
Elaina covered his hand, as weak as a newborn’s, and smiled through a veil of tears that threatened to fog her glasses. “Always the one in charge, aren’t you?” she teased as the hiss of oxygen in plastic tubing testified to his frailty. You’re being bossy, even on your deathbed, she thought. Her smile vanished.
“I-I saw the c-city,” he said, his hazy gaze taking on an uncanny sharpness. “H-He was there, hold-holding out His hands.” Joseph reached forward, as if he still saw the vision. “I was about . . . about to step over.” He coughed and wheezed. “But I asked to come . . . to come back and say . . . say good-bye.” The final words slurred out. His gaze dimmed. His thin gray brows twitched.
As Joseph’s eyes shut, Elaina felt as if the walls were pressing all the oxygen from her lungs. Finally she understood her brother and mother’s reactions.
In her mind, the limp man before her was replaced by the vigorous father from her youth. Joseph had been fifty when Elaina was born, but that didn’t stop him from jumping into fatherhood with the zeal of a twenty-year-old. He had coached her Little League ball team, took her to Girl Scouts, and treated her and her friends to every kids’ movie that released. He had cheered her through high school tennis, urged her into college, and thought a PhD was the only natural choice. Last month, when she’d secured an assistant professorship at Southern Christian University, her father had wrapped her in his lanky embrace and promised to visit her first class this fall. Even then Elaina had been stricken with his growing frailty.
Joseph stirred. The crumpled sheets murmured about his imminent death, and Elaina was almost certain she heard the brush of angel wings. He swallowed and frowned as if his every move were an unforgiving leech sucking the life from him.
Joseph’s eyes drooped open. “Do you . . . remember what I t-told you last year about the . . . prenuptial agreement?” he rasped, his purplish lips crinkling like crepe paper.
“Yes, I remember.” As Elaina squeezed his hand, she recalled the day he’d insisted on explaining the existence of the legal agreement between him and her mother. Elaina never knew of the document and was grieved by her father’s regret of it.
“It’s okay, Daddy,” she now assured. “I understand. I know you would have never intentionally deprived Mother and Anna and me.”
A shroud of relief swept his pinched features. “I would have never pr-promised my first wife if I’d—if I’d known . . .”
“I know. I know.” Elaina rubbed her thumb across the back of his wrinkled hand, spotted with age. When Joseph’s first wife, Angela, died of a rare liver disease, she made him pledge to leave the family estate and import business to their son—no matter what. At the time, Joseph had been so distraught at losing his wife, he never imagined marrying again, let alone having more children.
“But really, I can’t blame her for making you promise, and I can’t blame you for agreeing,” she said with as much calm assurance as she could feign. Elaina would do anything to bring her father peace—even pretending to have no resentment for a first wife she’d never met.
“It was her—her money—” he broke off.
“Yes, I understand.” Elaina prepared to repeat the facts, as if by restating them she could validate the merit of her half brother inheriting the mansion, millions of dollars, and a thriving import business. Her mother didn’t receive half as much. “It was her family inheritance that started your business and bought the estate,” Elaina said. “Daddy, please don’t let that worry you now. N-not now,” she choked over the last words and wiped her clammy hand along the side of her shorts. All at once the will’s unfairness meant nothing to her.
“Do you—do you remember what I told you about the private account for your—for your mother—where it is and how to get to it . . . and what—what lawyer to use in case . . . so no one will . . .”
“Y-yes.” Elaina sniffled. She had tried to resist her father’s information last year because she dreaded the thought of his death. Elaina stroked the gray wisp of straw-like hair near his temple and bit back a sob.
“I told—I told Jake about it all . . . all . . . and that—that he needs to—to make sure Margaret and—and you and—and Anna are taken care of.”
“But I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
“He—he promised. He promised to do—do more than the will ev-even. But I don’t trust—” A gurgled cough wracked his body, and his hospital gown sagged across his shoulders. “I don’t trust her ,” he finished.
She understood all too well whom he referred to. Her half brother’s wife, Faye, had proven