Seeds of Sorrow , livre ebook

First Edition Design Publishing - Lisa Brown

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

264 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

In "The Porter's Wife," Sarah Berry, and her five young children, survived the helplessness and despair of 1901 Manchester, England, after the death of their beloved husband and father before embarking on an arduous and life changing journey. We saw Sarah as a strong woman, steadfast and fiercely determined to see her family right at all cost. Time softened Sarah, as it often does many, but not before her indomitable spirit left an indelible mark on those closest to her.______In "The Seeds of Sorrow," it is now the Twenties and Thirties and their world is mired in Prohibition and the Great Depression. It is a tumultuous time, one of upheaval and devastating loss made worse by the lingering effects of the First World War. Few families are left untouched and Sarah's is no exception.______Sarah's daughter Agnes is now married and is similarly fighting for her own family through difficult circumstances. She is as steadfast as her mother, and as relentless in her determination to see her family through their struggles. But a devastating accident, an irreversible singular moment in time, turns Agnes's world upside down and threatens to tear apart all that she holds dear.______Agnes's own spirit, born from the echoes of generations past, holds strong as she fights to keep her family together, but she learns the hard way that happiness can be fleeting and no matter how hard you love, sometimes love isn't enough.______

Sujets

Historical romance

Historical fiction

Informations

Publié par	First Edition Design Publishing
Date de parution	15 juillet 2014
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781622876679
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0540€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

The Seeds of Sorrow
Lisa Brown

First Edition Design Publishing
The Seeds of Sorrow

First Edition Design Publishing
The Seeds of Sorrow
Copyright ©2014 Lisa Brown

ISBN 978-1622-876-68-6 PRINT
ISBN 978-1622-876-67-9 EBOOK

LCCN 2014944290

July 2014

Published and Distributed by
First Edition Design Publishing, Inc.
P.O. Box 20217, Sarasota, FL 34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com

ALL R I G H T S R E S E R V E D. No p a r t o f t h i s b oo k pub li ca t i o n m a y b e r e p r o du ce d, s t o r e d i n a r e t r i e v a l s y s t e m , o r t r a n s mit t e d i n a ny f o r m o r by a ny m e a ns ─ e l e c t r o n i c , m e c h a n i c a l , p h o t o - c o p y , r ec o r d i n g, or a ny o t h e r ─ e x ce pt b r i e f qu ot a t i o n i n r e v i e w s , w i t h o ut t h e p r i o r p e r mi ss i on o f t h e a u t h o r or publisher .
This book is dedicated to the women who fill its pages, the strong and determined women whose lives moulded each generation that came after—including that of this author. Agnes and Sarah died before my time, but their indelible spirit continues to live on. I was blessed to know my Grandma Dorothy, an incredibly special woman who gracefully endured her own difficulties in life … perhaps this story is not quite finished yet!
The Seeds of Sorrow

By
Lisa Brown
Prologue
1944

The breeze announced itself with a whisper, infusing the stale air with the sweet smell of rain. It was one of Dorothy’s favourites, but today the scent went unnoticed. Today the breeze offered only a damp chill that she felt deep within her bones.
It was a day like any other, a day in which certainty and uncertainty were bound together in an unbreakable bond. All that had come before weighed heavily, like a ghost whose constant presence was undeniable and inescapable. And yet, in the moment’s circumstance, there was a glimmer of hope, hope for a life that was deserved, but had long been denied.
Mary bent down and kissed her niece on the cheek. Dorothy’s smile was broad and her excitement undeniable, but there was a lingering sadness in her eyes. Dorothy’s sadness became Mary’s. It always had. She loved Dorothy as her own daughter, and the helplessness she felt over her life’s circumstance was overwhelming.
“Where is your mother?” Mary asked.
“I’m not certain,” Dorothy answered. Her face dropped slightly as she toyed with a button on her jacket. Its silky covering felt good on her fingers and provided some of the comfort that she so desperately needed.
“Soon you will be a beautiful bride, and you will start your life anew with the man you love. I couldn’t be happier for you both.” Mary rested her hand on Dorothy’s shoulder, squeezing it ever so slightly.
“Thank you, Aunty Mary.”
Dorothy looked up at her aunt and cousin in the mirror and did her best to release them of their concern, but they did not oblige. How could they? Dorothy’s existence had been fractured and the pieces that weren’t broken were missing. They created a void that could not be filled, not even by the man she was about to marry.
“Do not be nervous, my dear girl. Your groom awaits. That is all you need occupy your mind with.”
But it was of no use. Trepidation was as woven into the fibres of Dorothy’s being as was the constancy of her countenance.
“There, all done,” Margaret said as she finished spraying Dorothy’s hair in place. Dorothy’s chestnut curls were swept back loosely behind her head, revealing her exquisite, porcelain skin.
“Absolutely perfect. Just like you,” Mary said as she winked at her niece.
Dorothy glanced at the open door before her eyes moved to the clock on the wall. The second hand swept around its face, turning and turning and slowing for nothing.
“I need to find Mum,” Dorothy said anxiously. “We must get to City Hall. Tom will be waiting.”
“I will find her. Finish getting yourself ready, my dear. We will leave in five minutes.”
Mary left the room in search of her sister. She tried so desperately to understand her, but it was not possible. How could she? Mary had only been an observer of her sister’s life, and now Agnes was buried in a deep and unending darkness and could not find her way out.
Mary came upon her quickly. She stood at the living room window, enraptured by the sole focus of her attention. At that moment nothing else existed for her but that tiny bird.
“There you are. It is time to leave. Dorothy is ready.”
“Art loved birds,” Agnes said, her gaze unaffected and unmoved. “He loved the sounds they made. He used to say it was nature’s symphony.”
“I know, Agnes,” Mary said, sighing deeply. “We must leave now. It is time to go.”
Agnes turned and walked toward Mary’s outstretched hand and took it in hers. Together they went to the front door where the others were waiting.
“You look lovely, darling,” Agnes said to her daughter.
Agnes’s smile was warm, but she embodied a childlike innocence that was incapable of acknowledging the importance of the occasion. She truly loved her daughter, but she could only mother her as well as she was capable, and it wasn’t nearly as much as Dorothy needed.
“Thank you, Mum. So do you. Are you ready to go?”
Dorothy was relieved to see her mother, and her expression revealed as much.
“Dorothy, you need only think of yourself. This is your wedding day,” Mary said. Mary was looking at her sister as she spoke, hopeful for some spark of acknowledgement and understanding. There was none.
Mary tensed as she thought of all that could go wrong. But in her prayers she had bargained some of her happiness for her niece’s. She only hoped that God had listened.
Chapter 1
1919

October had always been a glum month for Agnes. It heralded in a sombre transition, bringing chilling arctic winds to assault the last of the Winnipeg summer, and it thrust wide open the door to another long and arduous winter. Bright, beautiful flowers became a mess of wilted, rotting stems, and trees, dressed with a thick blanket of foliage, suddenly found themselves naked, barren, and exposed. Summer suited Agnes, with its outdoor picnics and parties, sunshine, and laughter. It suited her infinitely better.
October typically brought unwelcome changes for Agnes, but not so far that year. That year early October held winter at bay, giving all that lived in its midst an unexpected gift. Winter would soon come, but until then it was nowhere to be seen.
“Agnes! Stop fidgeting, would you? How do you expect me to finish your hair if you keep moving about in your seat like a two year old?”
“Mary, you sound like a grumpy old woman. Relax.”
Mary was exasperated. “And, you … you, Agnes, should act your age. You are getting married in an hour’s time. Does Art know he is marrying a child?”
“You both sound like children,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes and sighing heavily as she entered the room. “How are we coming along?”
“I am almost done with Agnes’s hair, Mum. It is perfect, if I do say so myself.” Agnes turned to look in the mirror but was promptly stopped by Mary’s hand. “Not until I am finished.”
Agnes grunted but obeyed her sister.
“Agnes, your dress is on my bed. It is all ready for you. You are going to be the most beautiful bride,” Sarah said, beaming with pride.
“Thank you, Mum.” Agnes blushed. “Has Art arrived yet?”
In her daughter’s tone, Sarah caught a glimpse of nervousness. “Do not fret. He is downstairs and looking as handsome as has ever been seen. Percy is right at his side, as any good best man should be. And your sister and John are handling the food brilliantly.”
The warm, autumn breeze continued to fill the room, carrying with it the joyous sounds of pending celebration from the yard outside. Chatter and laughter filled the air, as did a grand feast’s assembly.
“My, my, this weather is simply outstanding,” Sarah exclaimed as she looked toward the window. “I imagined a church wedding and reception indoors, away from the cold. This is lovely. I’d say it is a very good sign.”
Sarah held her hand out for her daughter. “Come, Agnes, you must dress for your groom.” Agnes accepted her mother’s hand with every bit of the excitement she felt.
As Agnes approached her mother’s bed, she stopped and took a deep breath. She became overwhelmed by the magnitude of the moment, by the sheer oneness of the life experience. It had not come before, and God willing, it would not come again.
Agnes stepped into her dress and Sarah was overcome with emotion. She was not one to give in to the overdramatic fancies of women. She was of a more practical nature, and despite that she fully surrendered.
“Come now, I am not the first of your daughters to be married. You are well practiced. You stood in this position a few short years ago with Margaret.”
Sarah nodded but did not speak for she feared the consequences. It was true. Sarah had been through this experience before, but this time it was different.
When Agnes was born, she was named Sarah Agnes, but she was always more than just her mother’s namesake. She was Sarah. She was practical, hard headed, driven to make rules, and even more driven to follow them.
“Yes, I did. But a mother loves her daughters equally. How could I be any less affected by this?” Sarah said as she touched her daughter’s dress. “One day you will have a daughter and you will understand. You will cherish her as I cherish you.”
Agnes kissed her mother softly on the cheek. “Thank you, Mum.”
A knock on the door brought an abrupt end to the tender exchange. Sam opened the door but did not enter. He kept his eyes focused elsewhere.
“Am I free to gaze upon the beauty of the bride or is it still a work in progress?”
Agnes giggled. “Yes, I believe I am as good as I will ever be.”
Sam walked out from behind the door and took a deep breath. He became overwhelmed at the sight of her. Agnes was not his flesh and blood, but she was his daughter in every way that m