Prologue

      Gilbert Messmer frowned as he put down the copy of Much Ado About Nothing he had finished reading and looked out the window to where his niece, Emmaline Carstairs, was gathering herbs from the garden. Tomorrow would mark the twenty-fifth anniversary of the day his dying sister, Danielle, had asked him to care for Emmaline as his own, so, why was he worrying about Emma’s fate now?

      At twenty-nine, she was already grown up. But something had happened lately that had made him wonder if he had really kept his promise to Danielle as well as he should have.

      “Of course I did. I fed Emma, I clothed her, I gave her a place to stay and I cared about her.”

      Gilbert grimaced. Did you really? Ever since his wife had died giving birth to his daughter Holly soon after Emma had arrived, he had been a different man, divorced from much of life, married to his business.

      He’d been a good businessman, but hiding from his grief at losing his wife, he’d given most of what little affection he had left to Holly. What had been left for Emma, and why was he worrying about that now?

      “You know why,” he whispered. It was because Holly had fallen in love and gotten engaged to one of his two new business associates, and she was blissfully happy. Her excitement reminded him of how deeply he had loved his wife, of how he and Lila had once laughed every day.

      Watching his daughter come alive with love had been a gift, pulling him from the fog he had lived in for years.

      While Holly awakened each morning these days with stars in her eyes, here was Emmaline quietly laboring in his garden as she so often did. For the first time ever, Gilbert wondered if she actually liked working in the garden.

      He had never asked. Instead he’d just allowed her to take care of necessary tasks here at the Messmer’s mansion and at his hotel. She always seemed to be working or taking classes related to her work. Had she ever felt the kind of joy that Holly was feeling? If Danielle’s spirit visited him today could he tell her that he had done all he could for her child?

      No, but what could he do now?

      “Something. I promise you, Danielle, that I’ll make amends.” But how?

      Gilbert glanced down at his book. “Maybe Shakespeare would have had some good ideas about what a penitent and neglectful uncle should do to make sure his niece is happy,” Gilbert muttered. Shakespeare certainly seemed to have a fascination with the human condition.

      Gilbert stared at the gilt lettering on the cover. He loved the comedic tale he had just finished for the tenth time. Shakespeare had filled the pages with romantic heroes returning from war, a young couple in the throes of new love, a dastardly villain, another couple who couldn’t keep from verbally sparring with one another, and of course, lots of matchmaking.

      “Hmm,” he said and looked out the window again.

      Emmaline glanced up just then and gave him a small, sunny smile, waving at him before returning to her task.

      She really did resemble her mother with that dark hair and those solemn gray eyes. “Twenty-five years,” he whispered. “How selfish you’ve been, Gilbert. How blind.”

      But now his eyes were opening, and he would begin again if it wasn’t too late. All he needed was a plan. All he needed was to start doing what he hadn’t done for years—placing his daughter’s and niece’s needs first. Before business.

      How to begin? What to do? What would make Emmaline happy?

      “Maybe…” he mumbled. Maybe if Emmaline found the same kind of happiness that had set Holly aglow these days…

      Foolish, desperate thought. Emmaline had made it clear she didn’t want to marry. He didn’t even know why.

      Still, Holly hadn’t planned to marry yet, either, and now that she was engaged, she was ecstatically happy.

      It could happen to Emmaline.

      Maybe it could happen to Emmaline. But how when she was so determined never to look for love?

      Gilbert picked up his book. He lovingly rubbed his thumb over the dark green leather. Fanning the pages, he breathed in the scent of the paper and remembered the fates of the characters. The matchmaking…

      “No. This is Shakespeare. It’s fiction,” he told himself.

      But Emmaline toiled on, alone. She would be more alone still once Holly was gone. And if there was a chance that she could have a happily ever after, that he could redeem himself for the mistakes he’d made with her over the years?

      Gilbert sighed. “If only I could find the right man…surely there must be one man made for Emmaline.”

      The thought sank in. It took hold and filled him with hope and impulsive joy. Suddenly Gilbert wanted to laugh and kick up his heels. He felt younger than he had in decades.

      If there was a perfect man for Emmaline, he intended to find him. He was pretty sure he might know one who would do, someone that Emma had already met, a former military man just like one of the heroes in the play. And when he did, he would take a page from William Shakespeare’s tale. If there was the slightest chance that Emmaline could find love, then he was going to make it happen.