Mail Order Miriam Read online

  Mail Order Miriam

  Widows, Brides, and Secret Babies

  Jenna Brandt

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Locale and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events, or actual locations is purely coincidental. All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email [email protected].

  Text copyright © Jenna Brandt 2020.

  Cover design by V. McKevitt

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peak of Mail Order Miranda

  Sneak Peak of Mail Order Misfit

  Sneak Peak of Lawfully Loved

  A Note from the Author

  Also by Jenna Brandt

  Join My Mailing List and Reader’s Groups

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Praise for Jenna Brandt

  Jenna Brandt knows what her readers like and delivers it.

  Lenda Burns, Longtime Reader

  I am always excited when I see a new book by Jenna Brandt.

  Lori Dykes, Amazon Customer

  Jenna Brandt is, in my estimation, the most gifted author of Christian fiction in this generation!

  Paula Rose Michelson, Fellow Author

  Ms. Brandt writes from the heart and you can feel it in every page turned.

  Sandra Sewell White, Longtime Reader

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  Mail Order Miriam

  A runaway Russian princess, a copper mine owner, and a secret baby that could ruin their chance at a happy marriage.

  Miriam Novikoff leads a sheltered life as a princess until her husband is killed and she is blamed for his death. In order to keep from losing her head, she flees to America, with only a handful of jewels to pay her way to freedom. On her trip out West, she realizes she’s pregnant, a complication she never planned on.

  Mark Bennett owns half of the largest copper mine in all of Arizona. He enjoys running the family mine and spending time with friends when he isn’t working. However, that isn’t enough for his matching-making aunt, who insists he needs to settle down and find a wife. He doesn’t want any of the women she’s been throwing at him lately, so he decides to take matters into his own hands and places a mail order bride advert.

  Can Miriam find a way to trust Mark with her big secret? What will Mark do when he finds out Miriam is pregnant? And what happens when Miriam’s past catches up with her?

  -To Connie-

  Readers like you make it worth writing.

  1

  Early Spring 1884

  St. Petersburg, Russia

  Princess Miriam Novikoff tried to focus on the feeling of freedom she felt when she rode her stallion, Ilari, at full gallop. She knew it was unladylike to ride astride with full abandonment as she did that morning, but she needed a way to release the frustration she felt over her husband’s latest indiscretion.

  She held her arms wide from her body, her chest thrust out over the horn of the saddle in a determined manner. Tightly, she gripped the reins, urging her four-legged friend to carry her as far away from the palace as possible. The more anger that crept into her heart, the harder she pushed her horse, not caring that it made it impossible for her riding companions and imperial guards to keep up with her. The palace staff insisted that she take a legion of servants with her wherever she went, but it didn’t mean she had to like it.

  “Your Imperial Highness, please, slow down,” she heard one of the men call out from behind her. “You aren’t safe riding like this.”

  Miriam was tempted to ignore the man’s plea, but she knew the edge of the bluffs was fast approaching. Even though she wished for a way out of her miserable marriage, she refused to find it by giving up on her life. Her death would suit her husband’s purposes too well, and she refused to give him the satisfaction.

  With practiced ease, she slowed Ilari down from a gallop, to a canter, and finally, a slow trot. Her head lady-in-waiting, Karine, arrived by her side first, her face pinched tight from exhaustion. “Are you ready to return to the palace, your Imperial Highness?”

  Miriam pulled out a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and wiped the sweat from her brow, dreading the thought of heading back to the gilded cage where she would have to resume playing her role of the Grand Princess of the Imperial Russian court. When her uncle, her only living relative, arranged her marriage to Grand Prince Nicholas, Emperor Alexander III’s firstborn son and heir, Miriam thought a whole new world would open up for her. She imagined spending a life with a loving husband while enjoying beautiful balls and state dinners. Little did she know, what actually awaited her was being subjected to the maniacal whims of a spoiled, egotistical brute. For a year, she’d been forced to live with a husband who cared so little for her, that he regularly spent his nights out drinking, gambling, and carousing with other women. In hindsight, she knew it had been naïve to expect him to be faithful to her, but at the minimum, she wished he could at least be discreet. On a daily basis, she dealt with members of the imperial court, as well as the staff, giving her looks of pity. It was never discussed, but everyone knew how poorly he treated her.

  “Let’s stay out here a bit more, Karine. The fresh air does us both good.”

  “As you wish, your Imperial Highness,” Karine deferred, refraining from pointing out that they needed to return within the next hour. Miriam was required to return in time to get ready for her mandatory duties.

  Miriam dismounted from her horse, handing the reins to one of the guards. She meandered along the edge of the recently thawed creek, wondering what it would be like to stick her toes in the cold water. She didn’t dare lift up her riding skirt and kick off her boots to do it. Oh, wouldn’t it be nice to not have to worry about how her decisions reflected on her position.

  “Your Imperial Highness, it’s time we return to the palace,” Ivan, her head guard stated firmly in a deep voice. “We have been out longer than intended.”

  Miriam glanced over at the burly dark-haired man. He had a worried look on his face. She suspected he was concerned about getting into trouble for not returning her promptly. Even though she didn’t want to go back, it wasn’t in her to cause someone else to get into trouble because she wanted to avoid her husband.

  “I suppose you are right, Ivan. We wouldn’t want to keep his Imperial Highness waiting.” She took the reins of the horse and placed her foot in the stirrup, then pulled herself up and into the saddle. She ignored the footman that offered her the steps most noblewomen used to moun
t their steeds.

  After returning their horses to the stables, Miriam made her way inside the ostentatious St. Petersburg residence of the imperial family. Between the dramatic use of columns and gold, there wasn’t an inch of the place that didn’t scream opulence. With hundreds of rooms varying from massive dining rooms to great halls, the palace could easily accommodate thousands of guests at a time. Tonight was no exception. The imperial family was hosting a masquerade ball for her husband’s thirtieth birthday, and every one of note was invited.

  Her ladies-in-waiting hurried her to her suite of rooms where they energetically worked to make sure her golden gown, made from the finest lace, was cinched perfectly at her waist. The layers of the skirt cascaded down and around her feet, as if it was part of a masterful waterfall designed just for her.

  “Your gown looks spectacular,” Karine gushed, adding several pieces of the imperial family jewels to accent her outfit. “You don’t need these gems, but I know his Imperial Highness will want you to wear them.”

  Karine was too afraid to say it out loud, but they both knew the Grand Prince only wanted Miriam to wear the jewels so he could show them off. Her husband didn’t think of her as anything more than a reflection of himself.

  The ladies placed Miriam’s dark hair into an elaborate updo, weaving pearls into the curls to match the ones around her neck. As a final touch, they added some rouge to her cheeks and lips, causing her alabaster skin to stand out strongly against her facial features.

  As Miriam stared at herself in the mirror, she noted she looked every bit the princess she was expected to be. She just wished she could find a way to reconcile the person she hid beneath the surface with the woman she pretended to be for everyone else.

  “Are you ready to go downstairs and take your place in the receiving line, your Imperial Highness?” Maria, her newest lady-in-waiting, asked with an eager smile on her face.

  “I suppose it’s that time, isn’t it?” Miriam put on a brave face and headed towards the door. Before she reached it though, the door flew open from the other side.

  Her husband’s furious brown eyes glared at her as he marched into the room. “Out, all of you,” he shouted at the other women, gesturing towards the exit behind him. “I need a moment alone with the Imperial Highness.”

  Miriam sucked in a deep breath and held it, her stomach clenching with dread as her ladies-in-waiting scurried from the room. Her husband rarely visited her chambers, usually only when he was drunk and in the mood to try to make an heir, or when he was upset with something she did. Neither reason ever bode well for her.

  “Is something the matter, your Imperial Highness?” she asked as she moved over to her vanity and picked up her gold-dusted lace mask. She was hoping if she just let him yell at her without resisting, he would move on faster. She kept her gaze averted as she secured the mask over her eyes and across her cheeks, tying it firmly at the back of her head.

  “Yes, there is. I thought we agreed you would visit me in my chambers last night,” he barked out as he scraped his hand through his black hair. “I waited all evening for you.”

  “I’m sorry that I displeased you, but I didn’t feel well last night.” It wasn’t a lie. Miriam had been so distraught over his last dalliance that she’d spent a restless night tossing and turning, to the point that she even felt physically ill.

  “It doesn’t matter; when I give you an order, I expect you to follow it,” he growled in anger. “Not only am I your husband, but I’m the Grand Prince of Russia. I could have your head for not doing what I tell you.”

  The threat didn’t surprise her. It wasn’t the first time he made it, and part of her wondered if one day, he would carry it out. The Novikoffs were known for dealing harshly with anyone that chose to defy them.

  “If you want, you can make it up to me now,” he commanded, his hand snaking out and grabbing her roughly by the arm. “You’ll have to be very, very convincing that you’re sorry, though.”

  As he pulled her close, she could smell the alcohol on his breath. Apparently, he’d already started drinking for the evening, which meant he could prove to be even more noxious to deal with than she first thought.

  Yanking her arm away from him, she snapped, “I’m already dressed for the evening, and we have guests waiting for us downstairs.”

  “They can wait a little while longer,” he snarled, reaching out for her, but she shrank away, stumbling backwards in the process. As she continued to move away from him, he kept pace with her, until her back smacked against the wall. She slid against the wallpaper until she reached the door that led to the balcony. She twisted the handle, and slipped through, hoping that the cool air might sober him up.

  “You should know by now, there’s nowhere to go,” he warned. “I own you.”

  He pounced on her so quickly, she barely had time to blink before it happened. A yelp escaped her lips; the pain from where his hands were digging into her arms caused tears to fill her eyes.

  Frantically, her gaze darted around, looking for anything that might help her escape. From the corner of her eye, she saw a flower pot. She squirmed free, not caring that his nails tore at her tender flesh as she pried herself loose. Without thinking, she picked up the ceramic pottery and slammed it against his head. His eyes widened in stunned shock for a brief moment before he crumpled to the ground.

  Gathering up her skirts, she hurried from the balcony, hoping she could hide at the party until he found someone else to take his anger out on. She only made it down three corridors before she panicked and turned back around, fearing what would happen once he woke, or worse, if someone found him before he did. No one struck the Grand Prince and got away with it, not even his wife. No matter what happened, he would be furious. At least if she returned and begged his forgiveness, her punishment would be less.

  Miriam entered her chambers and made her way back through the room, preparing herself for the verbal lashing she was sure to receive. As she approached the balcony, she stopped just shy of the door when she overheard the familiar voice of not only her husband, but his brother. They were arguing heatedly, causing her to pause. If she made her presence known, it would only make the situation worse. Instead, she peeked through the crack and listened.

  “If you can’t even control your wife, how are you going to rule this country, Nicholas? You’re the Grand Prince of Russia, for heaven’s sake, yet, you got pummeled by a girl a third of your size.”

  “I’ll deal with my wife,” her husband bellowed, the rage clear in his voice. “And once I do, she’ll never challenge me again.”

  Miriam shivered, knowing that he planned to punish her in the most severe of ways. She suspected he might even have her whipped privately for her transgression.

  “Wait until the nobles hear about this; you’ll be the laughingstock of the entire court,” Constantine cautioned.

  “You won’t dare tell them,” Nicholas ordered, the fear clear in his voice. “As your sovereign, I command you to shut your mouth.”

  “You aren’t my sovereign yet,” his brother pointed out, “and you never will be if I have anything to say about it. You are a disgrace to the Novikoff name; between your philandering and your drunkenness, you are going to end up destroying this family. I won’t give you the chance, just like I’m not going to give you the chance to have our family deposed. You’re not fit to rule this country.”

  “How dare you speak to me in such a way. I have a good mind to have you exiled for it,” her husband threatened in his consistent style.

  “You don’t have the backbone; you never have.”

  “I told you not to speak to me that way.” Nicholas lifted his hand to strike his brother, but Constantine grabbed his hand mid-air. There was a struggle between the two men, and to Miriam’s utter disbelief, Nicholas went tumbling over the side of the balcony.

  Miriam screamed, traumatized by what she just saw. Constantine’s attention shifted from the railing to her, his eyes narrowing into slits of
hate.

  Immediately, fear seized her heart, prompting her to slam the door shut and lock it before fleeing her chambers. She just witnessed the murder of the Grand Prince by his own brother. If she didn’t escape now, she’d be the next to follow her husband over the balcony.

  Miriam ran through the corridors of the palace, making her way down the staircase at the front of the residence, hoping she could blend in with the other guests dressed for the masquerade. She weaved through the crowd, keeping her gaze averted to avoid recognition until she could make her getaway.

  Just as she reached the back doors that led to the veranda, she heard Constantine shout from the top of the stairs, “Someone find the Grand Princess; she’s pushed the Grand Prince from her balcony.”

  Complete chaos erupted around her; everyone scurrying about as women screamed and cried and men cursed under their breath. Miriam took advantage of the pandemonium and slipped through the doors, rushing through the maze of garden paths. Lucky for her, she knew the paths well after spending countless evenings in them praying for her husband to stop having a wandering eye.

  At the edge of the gardens, she found the gate unlatched. Before she could slip through though, she heard Ivan’s familiar voice behind her. “Stop right there, your Imperial Highness.”