In Name Only

Praise
for “In Name Only”

"If
you love romance but hate smut, pick up this beautiful story and let it carry
you away. The characters are believable, layered, human and humorous even in
the midst of tragedy. I was so very sorry when it ended!" 
Lisa
Mladinich
, author, "Be An Amazing Catechist: Inspire the Faith of Children"

"This
is the best book I've read in a long time. It has all the qualities that make
for an outstanding memorable novel – and it's Catholic as well.  I highly
recommend it"!

Therese Heckenkamp
, Traditional
Catholic Novels

"There
aren't too many historical romance novels that appeal equally to men and women,
but Ellen Gable pulls it off admirably with In Name Only. It's great to read a
Catholic novel that's not overly "sanitized," realistic enough to
make you wonder if it's really fiction, and yet not at all offensive.  HIGHLY
RECOMMENDED
!"
 
Gerard Webster
, author, "In Sight"

"Gable
has skillfully crafted this intriguing novel... which conveys the beautiful
Catholic teachings on conjugal love, and shares both a pro-life story and a
conversion story."

Jean Heimann
, Catholic Fire

"There
are so many things I love about this book. The book is a very enjoyable read,
neither predictable nor formulaic. The ending is both uplifting and realistic
."

Elizabeth Kathryn Gerold-Miller
,
The Divine Gift of Motherhood

Gold Medal Winner in Religious Fiction

2010 Independent Publisher Book Awards

Awarded the Catholic Writers’ Guild Seal of Approval 2009

In Name Only

a Novel

Ellen Gable

Kindle Edition

Full Quiver Publishing, Pakenham, Ontario

This book is a work of fiction. The setting for this novel takes
place in 19th century Philadelphia, but the names and characters are products
of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to actual persons living or dead is
entirely coincidental.  Events and settings are used fictitiously.

In Name Only

Copyright by Ellen Gable/Full Quiver Publishing

PO Box
244

Pakenham
, Ontario

K0A 2X0

Cover design by

James and Ellen Hrkach

Scripture texts are taken from the 1820 edition of the King James
Bible and the Douay Version of the Holy Bible

Gable, Ellen 1959 -

In Name Only/ Ellen Gable

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

This
e-book is licensed for your enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away
to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person,
please purchase an additional copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Copyright 2011 Ellen Gable/Full Quiver Publishing

a division of Innate Productions

For James

“To every thing
there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven: a time to be born
and a time to die...a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a
time to dance...a time to love and a time to hate
.”
 Ecclesiastes 3: 1-2, 4,8

“A
gentleman...submits to pain, because it is inevitable, to bereavement, because
it is irreparable, and to death, because it is his destiny
.” John Cardinal Newman 1852

Chapter 1

Death, Caroline’s
father had once told her, was a natural part of life, one that she did not
like, not in the least bit. This aversion was not based on the eventuality that
she would have to yield to it someday, but because losing someone so precious
took its emotional toll on one’s heart and often at a most inappropriate time.

Presently, she was
surrounded by more people than she had seen in five months, and it unnerved
her.  In fact, Caroline expected the other passengers to point their fingers
and urgently declare, “That woman ought to be traveling in the front cars with
the rest of the third-class passengers!”

It was a cloudy,
threatening-to-rain day, the 21st of April in the year of our Lord, 1876. 
Caroline stared blankly out the window of the train.  She attempted to take a
deep breath, then concluded that in the dictionary, there ought to be a new
definition beside the word corset: vexatious.  The horrid garment made her sit
so straight, she felt like one of those wax figures at the museum.

On the seat beside
her sat Mrs. Shepherd, who had been employed by her uncle to serve as
Caroline’s chaperone for the journey.  The elderly Mrs. Shepherd seemed like a
kind lady who had skin that was almost translucent, and gray hair that seemed a
shade of light blue under her indigo-colored hat. She sat rather straight and
unmoving which led Caroline to believe that the elderly woman’s own corset was
most likely the cause of her severe posture.

Caroline smoothed
out her black dress then folded her hands on her lap. Papa had often told her
that she was beautiful, but Caroline knew that her physical traits, namely, her
copper hair and pale, freckled skin, were not as sophisticated as the upper
class women she had seen in Boston, the ones with the finely-made dresses,
fashionable hairstyles and face paint.

With her father
now gone and her mother having already passed years before, Caroline had few
choices. One was to take a job as a kitchen servant at an upscale home in Boston.  The other was to move in with her Uncle Edward and her cousin, Elizabeth, in Philadelphia.  She knew that they lived in a grand mansion but couldn’t remember when, if
ever, she had met them.  Uncle had generously sent her money to remain in her
small row house in Boston, as it was her desire to spend the bulk of her
initial grief in private.  In the past few weeks, however, Uncle Edward had
been sending constant telegrams urging her to come to Philadelphia.  Since he
had been so kind, the least Caroline could do now was to yield to his request.

The train had not
yet begun to move as passengers were still boarding.  Glancing around the interior,
Caroline was in awe of the plush seats, freshly painted walls and sparkling
fixtures.  The pungent odor of smoke suggested that a man behind her had lit
his pipe.

“There aren’t very
many people on the train,” offered Mrs. Shepherd, in a faint British accent.  “In
a month, the Centennial Exhibition will open and there shall be many more
people traveling to Philadelphia. Perhaps you and your uncle and cousin might
attend, my dear.”

Caroline nodded
and smiled in the most polite fashion she could muster, but in actuality, she
wanted the woman to be quiet.  Right now, she only wished that life could
return to the way it had been, a simple life with her father.

When Papa was well
they were not penniless, by any means, and the two of them always had enough to
eat.  However, once he became ill, Caroline worked hard trying to make ends
meet mending for neighbors, although her father’s care occupied most of her
day.

“All aboard.” The
conductor stood on the platform of the train just below her closed window.  Behind
him, Caroline noticed a young man holding onto his hat and running toward the
train.

She glanced at the
man who had struggled to make it to the train on time.  He was sitting across
the aisle and one seat ahead. His hat now off, he was endeavoring to catch his
breath.  The train whistle blew and it began to move.

The elderly Mrs.
Shepherd leaned close to Caroline. “Isn’t this exciting, dear?  What a fine way
to travel to Philadelphia.  I remember years ago as a young girl traveling from
London to. . .”

The woman’s
nostalgic memories became background noise as Caroline loosened the tie on her
black bonnet.  She smiled at Mrs. Shepherd, then stared at the young man, now
seated calmly and reading a newspaper.  His shoulder length blond hair was
pulled back neatly and he had a short, well-kept beard.  As she studied him,
she concluded that, despite the facial hair, he couldn’t be much older than her
own 19 years.  He wore a dark blue coat and lighter blue breeches.  He reminded
Caroline of the Union officers who had played cards with her father back in the
latter days of the Civil War.

She again peered
out the window of the now fast-moving train, which was making its  way 
through  the city of Boston with  row houses, markets and other businesses
still the common sight.  Caroline had never traveled to the southern section of
the city and she found herself staring at the quaint shops and houses.

When Papa had
first spoken to her about the option of moving in with her relatives in Philadelphia, it had seemed like it would be many years before it happened.

“Dear Carrie,
listen to reason.  You have been taking care of an old man since you were 14. 
You’ve been taking part in activities a son ought to be doing.  You deserve to
have someone take care of you.  Please reconsider.”

“You’re not an
old man.”

“I am.  And
you’re a young lady in need of companionship.  Elizabeth is now, what? 17 years
old?”

“I suppose so.”

“I won’t be
around for much longer.”

“You mustn’t
say that.”

“It is true and
you must come to accept it when it happens.”

Caroline used her
handkerchief to wipe her eyes.

“Are you unwell,
dear?” the woman asked.

“No, I. . .” she
began.

“You must be
missing your father.”

“Yes, I am.”

“The first year is
most difficult when you’ve lost someone close.”

Caroline forced a
smile and stared out the window.  A few moments later, she turned to find the
elderly woman asleep.

Caroline
nonchalantly glanced at the young blond man across the aisle as he was reading
the newspaper. She studied him more closely and observed that he was impeccably
dressed, from his coat and breeches to his shiny shoes.  Definitely upper
class.

She turned her
attention to the countryside moving quickly beyond her window.  Caroline was
happy to see the green grass and spring flowers dotting the landscape, despite
the dullness of the day.  Lulled by the movement of the train, she began to
close her eyes.

“Excuse me, Miss?”

Caroline opened
her eyes to see a young man with dark hair and a mustache bending down close to
her.  She glared at him and, with her elbow, nudged her chaperone to wake up. 
The woman continued to breathe heavily beside her. 
Mrs. Shepherd sleeps so
soundly.

“Miss, haven’t we
met before?” the man whispered as he leaned ever closer to her ear.

Caroline’s eyes
narrowed and she sank back against the seat.

“Excuse me, sir,
may I help you?” she heard someone say.  As Caroline allowed herself to look
up, she could see that the blond man from across the aisle was standing next to
the stranger, almost leaning on him.