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She couldn’t believe he would force her to do anything. He had never done so before.
She had made up her mind that she would not go to England and she would definitely not be sent into the past.
“No, Mom. I’m not going. I’m not doing this. I will handle papa,” she answered. None of this made sense to her.
Her mother frowned, and suddenly surprised her as she ‘poofed’ off in a cloud of white mist.
Here’s a sneak peek at Claudy’s newest paranormal romance,
Netherby Halls (unedited)
~ Prologue ~
Sutton Village, England
1815
SASSY WALKED THE short distance from the livery, where she left her cob horse and curricle, and made her way to the curio shop that also served as their village bookshop.
The avenue was wide, and it was a busy time of the morning, nearly lunch. The road was bustling with people, horse-drawn wagons, and quite an impressive number of carriages of all sizes, age, and styles for their quaint village.
The dust they kicked up didn’t do her well worn blue cloak any good. With a grimace she brushed and shook off some of the offending dirt as she made her way to the lead-paned window of Mrs. Plummet’s Curio Shop and stepped beneath the awning.
A little bell announced her arrival, and a tall buxom woman looked up from the counter where she was arranging a stack of the new and latest novel that had only just come in. The woman smiled and welcomed Sassy. “Hallo, m’dear, and how is the vicar today?”
Sassy pushed a stray hair away from her ear, adjusted her chip hat, and sighed as she gave Mrs. Plummet a warm smile. She had known her forever. “Papa is cranky today, I am afraid. He shooed me off and told me to come into town and purchase a book to keep me busy. He says I am always fussing about him, and he won’t have it.”
Mrs. Plummet laughed and said, “Good then, Sassy love. If he is feeling feisty, perhaps we will have a small miracle and he will take a turn for the better.”
Sassy almost released her pent-up emotion, but fought back the urge to dive into Mrs. Plummet’s arms and cry. She held herself in check and unconsciously rubbed the ring on her right hand beneath her glove.
She couldn’t very well tell Mrs. Plummet the guilt she felt because, once again, she felt useless. She hadn’t been able to save her mother two years ago when she had suddenly fell ill and died within a week. What good was the power if she couldn’t rid the ones she loved of disease?
Now her father was not getting any better, and not all the tisanes in the world were helping, not even those her mother had taught her to concoct had worked to do more than ease his discomfort.
She picked up the latest novel by an author whose name she did not recognize and looked it over. “What do you think?”
“I started reading it last evening … very … absorbing”
“Right then, I’ll give it a try,” Sassy answered and fished in her knit purse for a coin. She shouldn’t be wasting her
father’s money on a book, but he had insisted, and she didn’t want him to worry about her. It was all he talked about these last few days—her future.
She knew she was going to lose him … and her heart was being ripped to shreds at the thought. How could she do without him and his guidance, especially now?
When her mother had passed, she was left to carry the burden of what she was alone, except for her father. He kept her secret even as he had kept her mother’s.
Now that she had reached her majority, she was experiencing the ‘transition’; without her mother to advise her, only her father could help her.
There was, of course, her mother’s family, but they had disowned her when she married her father so she could not turn to them, although, like her, they had the ‘power’.
She set these disturbing thoughts aside as she took up the package Mrs. Plummet handed her and made her way outdoors.
Before crossing the avenue, she meandered down the walkway, stopping to look in the window of the village dress shop. It was still there—a gown that had caught her eye the week before. It was breathtaking. Yellow and in the fashionable A-line, low cut, trimmed with Belgium lace, and much too expensive for her. She sighed as she turned away from it.
Her own ensemble beneath the aged cloak though once a pretty shade of blue was becoming threadbare. She hadn’t thought much about refurbishing her wardrobe in the last two years. She had been devastated at her mother’s death, and then this year her father’s health had been dwindling … thus, socializing had been out of the question.
The sound of laughter across the street caught her attention, and she glanced in the direction of the hearty noise.
