Two homicide detectives must separate the truth from a web of puzzling lies while investigating a murder victim’s friends and lovers in Lost Beach, Texas.
Detective Nicole Lawson is fed up with her job and nonexistent love life. Her first date in months gets cut short by an urgent call from the chief of police. A body has been discovered at Lighthouse Point, and the medical examiner finds an array of strange clues. When the death is ruled a homicide, the news quickly reverberates through Nicole’s beachside hometown.
The Lost Beach police department swings into high gear. Leading the investigation is Emmet Davis, a veteran detective who is Nicole’s fiercest rival at work and also the man she has secretly harbored feelings toward for years. With Emmet calling the shots, Nicole sets out to search for leads, starting with the enigmatic yoga instructor who first discovered the body. Nicole is certain the witness knows more than she’s revealing and may even hold the key to unlocking the case.
When another person turns up dead under suspicious circumstances, Nicole sees a bizarre pattern, but no one believes her theory. Under the gun to solve the case, Nicole must put aside her tumultuous feelings and work closely with Emmet to figure out who is targeting her beloved hometown… before she becomes a target herself.
Review
Nicole has been called to a murder scene at Lighthouse Point. But there are quite a few strange clues. The Lost Beach Police department is pulling out all stops. Nicole’s adversary has been put in charge of the investigation. These two must work together to get this murder solved.
I have not read a book by this author in a while…WHY? I just don’t know how I have let her slip through the cracks.
This story had me absorbed in all the twists and turns. I enjoy a good guessing game and this one will definitely intrigue you till the end!
I love a good romantic suspense! Nicole and Emmet start out as rivals but then the attraction is too strong to ignore. And the way they have each others backs…
The narrator, Teri Clark Linden, did a great job with all the intensity and the characters.
Need a good mystery with great characters and fabulous twists…THIS IS IT! Grab your copy today.
I received this novel from this publisher for a honest review.
Finding family is a journey of love, risk, secrets, and healing in a powerful novel by the bestselling author of A Brighter Flame, The Passing Storm, and The Road She Left Behind.
When Nova Doubeck is asked to foster two children, she can’t say no. With her own childhood wounds healed by adoptive parents, Nova understands the rewards of a caring guardian—even an impermanent one. But nine-year-old Henry and his seven-year-old sister, Bella, are more than Nova bargained for.
Combative Henry is at risk of becoming like his abusive father, Egan Croy. Timid Bella, clutching a tin box of treasures, cowers at the slightest noise. Yet Nova gradually earns their trust and affection as they bring unexpected love and joy to her guarded life. Now she can’t help but wonder: How will she stop her heart from breaking when the time comes to say goodbye?
As Egan aggressively battles to regain control over the children, Nova’s protective instincts prove just as fierce. In fighting to save Henry and Bella, she’ll unlock the secrets hidden in their past—and learn more about herself and the true meaning of family than anyone imagined.
Review
Nova owns her on landscaping business. She also is a foster mom. She has only fostered teenagers. So, when she is asked to take two young siblings in for an emergency placing, she hedges a little bit. She has never fostered young kids.
Henry is the older of the two at 9 years old. When he shows up at Nova’s, he is a tough, combative little boy. His little sister, Bella, is just as sweet as she can be but so timid. Nova knows she has her work cut out for her.
Nova is a character I adored. She is exactly what these two abused children need, a loving heart and home. Nova begins to crack each child’s shell with her patience. And soon Nova loses her heart as well. She knows she is not supposed to get close to these children. She knows she is going to lose them.
This story takes you through all the emotions. Egan, the children’s father, has my anger up in a snap. And the way he manipulates his children…I wanted to come through these pages. Then there is a secret about Nova no one knew…but it comes out. And it just takes her on an emotional roller coaster.
Need a heartfelt story which will have you hugging everyone in your family…THIS IS IT! Grab your copy today!
I received this novel from the author for a honest review.
Evocative and transportive, filled with nuance and spiked with the violence of war, Darkness Calls the Tiger is a story of redemption in the midst of hopelessness.” –Tosca Lee, New York Times best-selling author
After the attack on Pearl Harbor, Imperial Japan devours the southern portion of Burma, intent on taking over mainland Asia. Unaware of the coming darkness, Kailyn Moran drifts in her role as the only daughter of a widowed missionary.
As whispers of war snake through the Kachin mountains, Kai’s father is convinced God will protect the mission. He entrusts the village to her and the kind yet inexperienced new missionary, Ryan McDonough, while he makes routine visits to neighboring villages.
War descends like a tempest upon the mountain peaks, and an unbreakable bond forms between Kailyn and Ryan as they unite to provide solace to both villagers and the flood of refugees. Despite their tireless efforts, a brutal enemy shatters almost everything they love, pushing Kailyn to embark on a path of unrestrained vengeance.
Afraid he’s losing the woman he loves, Ryan fights to protect Kai from the deadly consequences of her choices. But in the face of destruction, can he convince her of the power and freedom of forgiveness?
Review
Kai is a daughter of a missionary. She killed a tiger when she was very young so she has a stigma that follows her. Kai’s father just knows the Lord will protect the village from Japanese invaders. But, this is not the case. Kai does everything she can but it is enough?!?
What a fabulous character is Kai! She just goes through so much in her young life. But, she never gives up. Did she possibly make some bad choices, yes, but there were reasons. I cannot imagine going through what this girl goes through in this novel and survive.
This is a unique tale set in Burma during WWII. I had no idea about what happened on this side of the world during this time period. So, to say I learned a lot is an understatement! This author did amazing research and some wonderful writing to bring this story to life!
Need a different tale about WWII…THIS IS IT! Grab your copy today.
Based on true events, Tomorrow Is for the Brave is a gripping World War II page‑turner about a courageous woman who risks it all for what is right—perfect for fans of Natasha Lester and Kristen Harmel.
1939, France: Lavish parties, fast cars, and a closet full of the latest fashion—to the average eye, socialite Violet St. Croix seemingly has it all. But what she truly wants is a life full of meaning and purpose. So when France falls to Germany, Violet defies her parents’ wishes and joins the war effort. With her impeccable skill for driving under pressure, she is soon sent to North Africa to shepherd French Foreign Legion officers carrying valuable intelligence through dangerous territory.
But as the Allies encounter one mishap after another, Violet becomes convinced there is a spy in their ranks. And when her commanding officer is murdered, Violet realizes she might be the only one who can uncover the traitor and save the lives of countless soldiers on the front lines. Convincing others to believe her is difficult enough. Finding someone she can trust just might be impossible.
Review
Violet is a socialite on the cusp of WWII. She soon realizes that she knows nothing about the world. She breaks off her engagement, signs up to be a nurse, and gets disowned by her parents all in one swoop!
It does not take Violet long to realize nursing is not for her. Luckily a bomb raid saved her from this situation when she drove an ambulance. No one expected a woman to know how to drive. This changed her roll in the French Foreign Legion.
First off, I do not think I have ever read a book about the FFL during WWII. Where have I been??? This story is well researched and the characters are amazing. When Violet comes out of her shell, she takes no prisoners. Talk about strong and brave!
I read this book in a day and a half. I cannot tell y’all how good this book is. You MUST read it for yourself!
Need a book which will have you gasping for air…THIS IS IT! Grab your copy today.
I received this novel from the publisher for a honest review.
One man is about to have a midlife crisis like no man has ever had before. But for his wife, the nightmare is just beginning… Manhattan Assistant District Attorney Linda Haley is awakened early one morning by two police officers at the door. She has no idea that her husband has been living a secret life during his daily commute from Scarsdale into the city. Now Guy is the prime suspect in a brutal murder that could derail Linda’s high-powered career and may be connected to a cold case.
And Guy has disappeared.
With a warrant out for her husband’s arrest, Linda sets out to prove his innocence accompanied by an ex-cop who harbors a secret affection for her. Together, they travel to the scene of a forty-year-old unsolved murder and a night of violence that shattered the serenity of a small fishing hamlet just past the Hamptons.
But as the manhunt intensifies and she begins to uncover the shocking truth—and the past Guy has buried deep—Linda must decide if the stranger she married is innocent or guilty. And if he truly deserves to be saved.
Featuring tense, atmospheric suspense that moves at breakneck speed, this Hitchcockian thriller careens from a bedroom community just north of New York City to the picturesque beaches of eastern Long Island to a suburban train station, where a killer hiding in plain sight waits to exact a final revenge.
Review
Guy has met a gorgeous woman on the commuter train to and from work. He becomes entangled in her drama. Her boyfriend is beating her. He is sure of that. He will not tolerate that because of his Mom and past trauma. Now, Guy is the prime suspect in a murder.
When this book began, I almost DNFed it. I hated Guy almost from the get go! I thought, I am not reading this if he is going to be as bad as I think! But then…it got better and better and better!
I became completely captivated in the mystery of this tale. I will try not to give anything away, but the more this tale unfolds the more of a guessing game it is! And Linda! She is rock solid for her husband from start to finish. She never gives up!
Need a fast paced thriller with a twist…THIS IS IT! Grab your copy today.
I received this novel from the publisher for a honest review.
A historical drama based on the Battle of Blair Mountain, pitting a multi-ethnic army of 10,000 coal miners against mine owners, state militia, and the United States government in the largest labor uprising in American history.
Rednecks is a tour de force, big canvas historical novel that dramatizes the 1920 to 1921 events of the West Virginia Mine Wars—from the Matewan Massacre through the Battle of Blair Mountain, the largest armed conflict on American soil since the Civil War, when some one million rounds were fired, bombs were dropped on Appalachia, and the term “redneck” would come to have an unexpected origin story.
Brimming with the high stakes drama of America’s buried history, Rednecks tells a powerful story of rebellion against oppression. In a land where the coal companies use violence and intimidation to keep miners from organizing, “Doc Moo” Muhanna, a Lebanese-American doctor (inspired by the author’s own great-grandfather), toils amid the blood and injustice of the mining camps. When Frank Hugham, a Black World War One veteran and coal miner, takes dramatic steps to lead a miners’ revolt with a band of fellow veterans, Doc Moo risks his life and career to treat sick and wounded miners, while Frank’s grandmother, Beulah, fights her own battle to save her home and grandson. Real-life historical figures burn bright among the hills: the fiery Mother Jones, an Irish-born labor organizer once known as “The Most Dangerous Woman in America,” struggles to maintain the ear of the miners (“her boys”) amid the tide of rebellion, while the sharp-shooting police chief “Smilin” Sid Hatfield dares to stand up to the “gun thugs” of the coal companies, becoming a folk hero of the mine wars.
Award-winning novelist Taylor Brown brings to life one of the most compelling events in 20th century American history, reminding us of the hard-won origins of today’s unions. Rednecks is a propulsive, character-driven tale that’s both a century old and blisteringly contemporary: a story of unexpected friendship, heroism in the face of injustice, and the power of love and community against all odds.
Review
This is the story of the Battle on Blair Mountain. This is where an army of 10,000 coal miners battle mine owners, state militia, and the United States government in the largest labor uprising in American history. A powerful story of rebellion against oppression.
This tale is full of great historical detail and unique characters! I knew some of how the redneck term came about, but I did not know all. What these coal miners went through to get safe practices and fair wages is mind boggling.
I did find the tale a bit redundant and repetitive in places. This is a minor issue, I learned such a great deal!
Need a well researched novel about a tale most of us have forgotten about…THIS IS IT! Grab your copy today!
I received this novel from the publisher for a honest review.
Historical fiction of the highest order . . . an absolute joy of a book, warm and romantic, and with so much to say about the lives of women in the years following World War I.”—Ann Napolitano, bestselling author of Hello Beautiful
A timeless comedy of manners—refreshing as a summer breeze and bracing as the British seaside—about a generation of young women facing the seismic changes brought on by war and dreaming of the boundless possibilities of their future, from the bestselling author of Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand
It is the summer of 1919 and Constance Haverhill is without prospects. Now that all the men have returned from the front, she has been asked to give up her cottage and her job at the estate she helped run during the war. While she looks for a position as a bookkeeper or—horror—a governess, she’s sent as a lady’s companion to an old family friend who is convalescing at a seaside hotel. Despite having only weeks to find a permanent home, Constance is swept up in the social whirl of Hazelbourne-on-Sea after she rescues the local baronet’s daughter, Poppy Wirrall, from a social faux pas.
Poppy wears trousers, operates a taxi and delivery service to employ local women, and runs a ladies’ motorcycle club (to which she plans to add flying lessons). She and her friends enthusiastically welcome Constance into their circle. And then there is Harris, Poppy’s recalcitrant but handsome brother—a fighter pilot recently wounded in battle—who warms in Constance’s presence. But things are more complicated than they seem in this sunny pocket of English high society. As the country prepares to celebrate its hard-won peace, Constance and the women of the club are forced to confront the fact that the freedoms they gained during the war are being revoked.
Whip-smart and utterly transportive, The Hazelbourne Ladies Motorcycle and Flying Club is historical fiction of the highest order: an unforgettable coming-of-age story, a tender romance, and a portrait of a nation on the brink of change
Review
Poppy runs a taxi and delivery service and hopes to add flying lessons soon. She employs local women. But now that the men are home from the Great War, everyone expects women to go back to worrying about manners and clothes. But, Poppy refuses to relinquish what little freedom she has uncovered.
Oh! These characters are so great! I just love Poppy! But honestly, it takes all of these young characters to make this story entertaining. Each character, Poppy, Iris, Constance and Harris, have a great story surrounding them. The way these people learn to ignore the noise, so to speak, just made this book so wonderful! Talk about non-conformity!
Need an adorable tale about strong women…THIS IS IT! Grab your copy today.
I received this novel from the publisher for a honest review.
New York Times bestselling author Caroline Leavitt returns with a tantalizing, courageous story about mothers and daughters, guilt and innocence, and the lengths we go for love.
As a teenager, for a moment, Ella Fitchburg found love—yearning, breathless love—that consumed both her and her boyfriend, Jude, as they wandered the streets of New York City together. But her glorious life was pulled out from beneath her after she was accused of trying to murder Jude’s father, an imperious superior court judge. When she learns she’s pregnant shortly after receiving a long prison sentence, she reluctantly decides to give up the child.
Ella is released from prison after serving only six years and is desperate to turn the page on a new life, but she can’t seem to let go of her past. With only an address as a possible lead, she moves to Ann Arbor, Michigan, determined to get her daughter back. Hiding her identity and living in a constant state of deception, she finds that what she’s been searching for all along is a way to uncover—and live with—the truth. Yet a central mystery endures: neither Jude nor Ella can remember the events leading up to the attempted murder—that fateful night which led to Ella’s conviction.
For fans of Miranda Cowley Heller’s The Paper Palace and Allegra Goodman’s Sam, Caroline Leavitt’s Days of Wonder is a gripping high-drama page-turner about the elusive nature of redemption and the profound reach of love.
Review
Ella has been accused of attempted murder and put in prison as a teenager. She has lost her boyfriend and her child. Luckily someone found her case and discovered how railroaded she was during her interrogation by the police. So, she has been released early. She moves to Ann Arbor, MI to start her new life. Things do not go as well as she plans.
There are places in this story where you know what is about to happen so you have to stop a minute and catch your breath. Ella is so mistreated by life and her struggles are so real it will rip your heart out.
Now, did I know what actually occurred during her murder confession…YES! Did I also know who caused all of this before the author told me…YES! This is the only reason for the 4 star rating. I saw everything coming a mile away. Plus, the ending is a bit “tied up in a pretty bow” But dang! This tale is good!
Need a story which will take your heart from top to bottom and back again…THIS IS IT!
I received this novel from the author for a honest review.
Disturbing the Dead is the latest in a unique series with one foot in the 1860s and the other in the present day. The Rip Through Time crime novels are a genre-blending, atmospheric romp from New York Times bestselling author Kelley Armstrong.
Victorian Scotland is becoming less strange to modern-day homicide detective Mallory Atkinson. Though inhabiting someone else’s body will always be unsettling, even if her employers know that she’s not actually housemaid Catriona Mitchell, ever since the night both of them were attacked in the same dark alley 150 years apart. Mallory likes her job as assistant to undertaker/medical examiner Dr. Duncan Gray, and is developing true friends—and feelings—in this century.
So, understanding the Victorian fascination with death, Mallory isn’t that surprised when she and her friends are invited to a mummy unwrapping at the home of Sir Alastair Christie. When their host is missing when it comes time to unwrap the mummy, Gray and Mallory are asked to step in. And upon closer inspection, it’s not a mummy they’ve unwrapped, but a much more modern body.
A Macmillan Audio production from Minotaur Books.
Review
Mallory Atkinson, a modern day detective, has found herself in 1860s Scotland. She has been invited to a mummy unwrapping party. Only to discover it is not a mummy…but a recently murdered body!
Let me preface this with I have been extremely sick this week. And I believe this is why I could not get into this book as well as I did with The Poisoner’s Ring. I kept zoning out during this one.
There is no better place to time travel to than 1800 Scotland. I love reading about the idiosyncrasies in this time period. I also enjoyed all the different situations Mallory found herself in. She would have to remind herself exactly where she was. But, she is on the case and she IS going to find the murderer!
The narrator, Kate Handford, did a very good job with all the voices.
Need a good time travel novel…THIS IS IT! Grab your copy today.
I received this novel from the publisher for a honest review.
THE LIBRARY THIEF Author: Kuchenga Shenjé Publication Date: May 6, 2024 ISBN: 9781335909695 Hardcover Publisher: Hanover Square Press Price $29.99
Book Summary: The library is under lock and key. But its secrets can’t be contained. A strikingly original and absorbing mystery about a white-passing bookbinder in Victorian England and the secrets lurking on the estate where she works, for fans of Fingersmith and The Confessions of Frannie Langton
After he brought her home from Jamaica as a baby, Florence’s father had her hair hot- combed to make her look like the other girls. But as a young woman, Florence is not so easy to tame—and when she brings scandal to his door, the bookbinder throws her onto the streets of Manchester. Intercepting her father’s latest commission, Florence talks her way into the remote, forbidding Rose Hall to restore its collection of rare books. Lord Francis Belfield’s library is old and full of secrets—but none so intriguing as the whispers about his late wife. Then one night, the library is broken into. Strangely, all the priceless tomes remain untouched. Florence is puzzled, until she discovers a half-burned book in the fireplace. She realizes with horror that someone has found and set fire to the secret diary of Lord Belfield’s wife–which may hold the clue to her fate… Evocative, arresting and tightly plotted, The Library Thief is at once a propulsive Gothic mystery and a striking exploration of race, gender and self-discovery in Victorian England.
Author Bio:
KUCHENGA SHENJÉ is a writer, journalist, and speaker with work on many media platforms, including gal-dem, British Vogue and Netflix. She has contributed short stories and essays to several anthologies, most notably It’s Not OK to Feel Blue (and Other Lies), Who’s Loving You and Loud Black Girls. Owing to a lifelong obsession with books and the written word, Kuchenga studied creative writing at the Open University. Her work is focused on the perils of loving, being loved and women living out loud throughout the ages. The Library Thief is the ultimate marriage of her passions for history, mystery and rebels. She currently resides in Manchester, where she is determined to continue living a life worth writing about.
The story starts with a scandal that I thought would end my life. Fortunately, my scandal didn’t kill anyone. In fact, it pales in comparison with what I went on to discover at Rose Hall.
Thus far, the way I see it, in any good life you need to die several times to really lead a life worth living. There are little deaths and there are big deaths. My tale has both—and the real tragedy would be if this story were to die with me.
I was lying when I swore I would take this secret to my grave. I had no right to promise that.
*
Granger’s Bookbinders,
143 Long Millgate,
Manchester,
Rose Hall,
Lancashire,
November 20, 1896
Dear Mr. Granger,
I trust this note finds you in good health and that business is as steady as when last we met some years ago.
I write to you with an unusual commission. I will not trouble you here with the details of my current circumstances. Since the untimely death of my beloved wife, Lady Persephone, it seems the fates are in conspiracy against me. Suffice it to say that I find myself now in need of your excellent services and on a far grander scale than before.
The library at Rose Hall is, as you are aware, extensive. I am proud of the rarity and quality of the books it now houses, a collection that I have painstakingly curated over many years. I now find myself in the unhappy position of seeking a buyer for my collection. Many of the books, due to their age and mishandling by less cautious owners, are badly in need of restoration. There are perhaps some two hundred such artifacts. The nature of my circumstances make it necessary that this work be carried out to the highest quality and with the greatest rapidity. Since no bookbinder in the North West possesses skills equal to yours, I thought of you at once.
Please inform me as soon as you are able whether it is within your means to accept such a commission.
Your obliged and affectionate friend,
Lord F. Belfield
1
I fell in love with the feel of the cotton before I fell in love with the books. Leather felt too masculine and reptilian. Cloth was so much warmer and didn’t slip out of my hands as easily. As a child I played underneath the tables and made toy families from the scraps that fell at my father’s boots.
He would never talk to me about where the cloth we used came from, nor the contents of the books we worked on. There were a lot of things my father wouldn’t tell me, and rather than keeping me ignorant, his silence made me more curious. And fortunately, I was surrounded by the means to nourish that curiosity.
Most of the time we spent together as I grew up was in silence, folding, beveling and smoothing. I sometimes wished my fingers could be as thick as his; he didn’t grimace when schooling leather and cloth into precise lines under his digital tutelage. I tried to be like my father, but all the books he left lying around gave me opinions.
* * *
I arrived at the front door of Rose Hall looking more ragged than I would have liked. My breath was far from fresh, and the hair pins and clips I had used to imprison the frizzier strands had been loosened by the bumps of the rickety carriage. I had been dropped at the top of a tree-lined drive that was at least a quarter mile long, if not more. The December mists obscured my vision, and I could only just make out the shape of a grand house, the likes of which I had only really seen on biscuit tins in the windows of Manchester’s new department store, though I had imagined them as I read Brontë, Austen and Radcliffe. Even with the curls of mist in the air, I could tell this was a very English dwelling. As I approached it my feet slipped and shifted on the gravel, unused to navigating such terrain after only walking on cobbled streets and across wooden floors.
Lord Francis Belfield of Rose Hall had been my father’s long-standing customer. He was the only man I’d ever seen look luxurious without any air of pomposity. The men of Manchester were not known for wearing velvet, so the sheen of his jackets always marked him out as distinguished. It felt completely fitting that Rose Hall was an ode to symmetry and a more tasteful example of the grandiosity of the mid-eighteenth century. It was an early Georgian home of Lancashire sandstone. Even though my father hadn’t mentioned it, the period of the building’s erection and the mercantile success of Lord Francis Belfield were all I needed to know to deduce that the building and its grounds had been purchased with plantation wealth.
I knocked on the forest-green door and left my suitcases on the ground, hoping that looked more elegant than being strained down by the weight of my clothes, books and binding tools. In my pocket, my fingers found the folds of Lord Belfield’s letter. I inhaled, recalling once more the story I had so carefully rehearsed.
The door opened and a pair of prominent blue eyes glared at me through the crack. “Well?”
“Miss Florence Granger for Lord Francis Belfield, please.”
I took in the lines, too many for the face of someone who was still clearly a young man. The hand holding the door open was rough and calloused.
“He is expecting me,” I added.
“No ’e is not.”
I blinked, having not expected resistance this soon.
“I assure you I arrive here at the request of Lord Belfield himself. I am from Granger’s of Manchester.”
The door widened and there stood a long-limbed boy of no more than twenty. His movements were almost feline. The way he handled the door without effort despite its apparent heaviness was quite a marvel.
“We are bookbinders. I’ve been sent to care for your master’s collection.” I retrieved the letter from the pocket of my coat and held it out.
He made no move to take it, but instead chewed his bottom lip, realizing there was truth to my words but clearly unconvinced by me. A female tradesperson at the door to Rose Hall was probably not a common occurrence.
“Young man, I excuse you of your impertinence, but I have been traveling for some hours and would like to rest,” I told him, trying a sterner approach. “Please fetch your master.”
“’E don’t rise before midday most days anymore. You can wait in the kitchens, if you like.”
Now it was my turn to falter. I had no way of assessing how appropriate this was. Should I be seated in the parlor? If I allowed myself to be taken to the kitchens, was I aligning myself with the downstairs staff? I was an artisan, not a servant. But a sharp ripple through my stomach made the decision for me.
“Very well, so long as your offer comes with a cup of tea.” I sighed and crouched down to pick up my suitcases.
“No, m’lady. I’ll tek those.”
He ushered me into the reception hall, lifting my bags up to his sides as if they weighed nothing at all. The door chuffed itself closed behind us with a low groan. The darkness of the perimeter indicated that there was no draft coming through, nor a single sliver of light. A curtain hung to the right of it and the man gave it a sharp tug. It concealed the entrance entirely once pulled across, an odd choice. It gave the sense of being sealed into the house somehow—not being able to see where one could escape.
Stepping into the hall, I was compelled to look up. It was a huge atrium, with dark green textured walls and candles placed at regular intervals which gave the illusion of a warm, close space. He led me over a black-tiled floor, underneath a vast yet delicate brass chandelier aglow with coppery bulbs. At the back of the hall, under the bifurcated staircase, he opened a hidden door which led down to the kitchen. Before I had reached the bottom the herbaceous and deeply woody smells of the kitchen came wafting up to greet me. It was divine. But when we reached the flagstoned room I saw there was nothing on the stove; I could only imagine that months of cooking in a room with such small windows had baked the scent into the walls.
I was seated at a wooden table facing an array of copper pans and white jugs with the high windows behind me. It was clearly a kitchen intended for many staff, but there was none of the expected bustle. Where was everyone? I shifted uncomfortably as I cast about for something to say, before realizing that I didn’t know the young man’s name.
“What is your name?”
“Wesley.”
“Wesley what?”
He gave me a strange look. “Bacchus. Wesley Bacchus. I’m the footman.”
He was telling me that as a footman, his surname did not matter. Of course there was no reason that I, as a craftswoman, should know the intricacies of these hierarchies, but I sat in silence, not wanting to betray myself further by speaking again.
I was grateful when the cook came in some minutes later—from a pantry, I imagined—but she barely looked in my direction, merely banging a pan of water onto the stove. My stomach growled something fierce when she entered, almost as if my belly knew that I was meeting the person in charge of feeding the house.
I waited for her to acknowledge me, while Wesley continued to look on with a smile playing about his lips. But she only retrieved a mug and a caddy, before placing a steaming tea in front of me with a snort. My shoulders slumped. I hadn’t expected to be treated as a lady, but had hoped for at least some respect. Would my father have received such a poor greeting? I sipped the tea, grateful for its sweetness and warmth as the cook clattered about with her back to me. As I finished, she returned to the table with a thick slice of ham sandwiched between two slices of bread. There was also a large apple on the plate and in her other hand was a pewter cup of water. She’d clearly heard my stomach. But her face showed no compassion as she laid the blessed offering on the table.
With one last assessing glance at me, Wesley left, and the cook returned to the stove, making it clear she had no intention of speaking to me. I decided I could forget my manners just as she had hers, and devoured the most delicious meal I’d had in weeks. Salty ham on pillowy bread, with a delightfully sour apple and water that tasted like it came from the purest spring to cleanse my palate. After greedily wiping the crumbs off the plate with one of my fingers, I took out A Christmas Carol from my coat pocket and started reading until the words on the page began to blur. The beast of a carriage I had traveled in overnight had creaked with the strain of being drawn up even the slightest incline. Combined with the cold that jolted me from slumber, I had only been able to sleep in fits and bursts.
I awoke, suddenly, with my head on my crossed arms in front of me and my wrist soaking wet from my dribble. The plate and pewter cup had been taken away and Wesley was standing above me, a mocking smile about his thickish lips.
“I’m sorry to wake you, Miss. Lord Belfield says he’ll see you now.”
Wesley led me back upstairs, and down a corridor. As we passed a tall, gilded mirror, I stopped, horrified by my reflection. My hair, after only days left to its own devices, was now once again completely untamed. My eyes were bloodshot with fatigue and my skin was pale, making my freckles stand out. Hastily, I tried to force my frizzed hair back beneath its pins as Wesley stopped too. He watched me with amusement until I had done the best I could, and we continued on our way.
I thought back to the last time I had seen Lord Francis Belfield. His best features were his long fingers, which were always encased in tight kid gloves that he never took off. Oh, and the smell of him! Rich pepper with a botanical soapy undertone, which always impressed me. Not in a way that would make me swoon. He’s not the kind of man a girl like me is meant to fall in love with. No, what I felt was awe. A man of his fortune had surely seen more of the world than most. He’d have tales of Saint Petersburg, Constantinople and Siam. If only I could ask him. The need to convince him of my employability made doing so inappropriate.
The door opened onto the parlor, and immediately I could see that the man I remembered from our shop was very different from the man who sat in front of me. He was wearing a turmeric-colored silk waistcoat embroidered with indigo plants, paired with dark trousers. He had clearly dressed hastily, and a thread toward the bottom of his trousers was loose and trailing on the floor by his feet. I inhaled deeply but could not catch the spiced vegetal scent that usually accompanied his presence. He was much thinner than when I had last seen him, and his eyes drooped as if he had suffered many a sleepless night. He stood up from his seat to shake my hand but returned to it quickly as if he couldn’t bear to hold himself up for too long.
“My name is Florence Granger, sir,” I began, but he waved a hand.
“Yes, yes, I remember you. But why has your father sent you all this way without an escort? It must have been a frightful journey.”
“Oh, no, Lord Belfield. The journey was fine.” I cleared my throat to make space for the bigger lie. “My father sent me to complete the work on your collection that you requested.”
He looked at me aggrieved. Offended, even. The way his forehead crumpled made me more aware of the thinning hair at his temples. Even disheveled, he was no less handsome. However, I pondered whether he might feel a sense of loss for the way he used to look. On my previous viewings of him, he looked like someone who was used to being seen and spoken of as a very handsome “young” man. Although he wasn’t superbly weathered, he now had the face of a man who had endured. A sad wisdom brought the tops of his eyelids a little lower. His jawline was a bit less tenderly set because his teeth were more used to being gritted together from stress. I supposed it was grief. He had lost his wife less than a year before, after all, leaving him with only his son.
“Why on earth would he do that? This hasn’t even been discussed. Had he accepted the commission, I would have had the books sent to Manchester.”
Ah. This I had not considered. I remembered the words on the letter. I was sure that it was an invitation to stay and restore the library. My mouth was dry as I prepared my next lie.
reecaspieces 