Sisters of Sea View (On Devonshire Shores Book #1) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Julie Klassen

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252 pages

English

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Some guests have come for a holiday, others for hidden reasons of their own . . .When their father's death leaves them impoverished, Sarah Summers and her genteel sisters fear they will be forced to sell the house and separate to earn livelihoods as governesses or companions. Determined to stay together, Sarah convinces them to open their seaside home to guests to make ends meet and provide for their ailing mother. Instead of the elderly invalids they expect to receive, however, they find themselves hosting eligible gentlemen. Sarah is soon torn between a growing attraction to a mysterious Scottish widower and duty to her family. Viola Summers wears a veil to cover her scar. When forced to choose between helping in her family's new guest house and earning money to hire a maid to do her share, she chooses the latter. She reluctantly agrees to read to some of Sidmouth's many invalids, preferring the company of a few elders with failing eyesight to the fashionable guests staying in their home. But when her first client turns out to be a wounded officer in his thirties, Viola soon wishes she had chosen differently. Her new situation exposes her scars--both visible and those hidden deep within--and her cloistered heart will never be the same.Join the Summers sisters on the Devonshire coast, where they discover the power of friendship, loyalty, love, and new beginnings.

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Historical romance

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Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	06 décembre 2022
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781493439096
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	4 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0432€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Half Title Page
Books by Julie Klassen
F ROM B ETHANY H OUSE P UBLISHERS
Lady of Milkweed Manor
The Apothecary’s Daughter
The Silent Governess
The Girl in the Gatehouse
The Maid of Fairbourne Hall
The Tutor’s Daughter
The Dancing Master
The Secret of Pembrooke Park
The Painter’s Daughter
The Bridge to Belle Island
A Castaway in Cornwall
Shadows of Swanford Abbey
T ALES FROM I VY H ILL
The Innkeeper of Ivy Hill
The Ladies of Ivy Cottage
The Bride of Ivy Green
An Ivy Hill Christmas: A T ALES FROM I VY H ILL Novella
O N D EVONSHIRE S HORES
The Sisters of Sea View
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2022 by Julie Klassen
Published by Bethany House Publishers
Minneapolis, Minnesota
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2022
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-3909-6
The Scripture quote in chapter 1’s epigraph is taken from THE MESSAGE , copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress. All rights reserved. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
All other Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
The quotes in chapter 13 are adapted from Natural History and Antiquities of Selborne by Gilbert White (London: MacMillan and Co., 1875), 70, 231–232.
The quote in chapter 27 is from Belinda by Maria Edgeworth (London: MacMillan and Co., 1896), 67–68.
Cover design by Jennifer Parker
Cover photography by Todd Hafermann Photography, Inc
Victorian Bathing Machine photo by Mal Bray
Map illustration by Bek Cruddace Cartography & Illustration
This is a work of historical reconstruction; the appearances of certain historical figures are therefore inevitable. All other characters, however, are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Published in association with Books & Such Literary Management,
52 Mission Circle, Suite 122,
PMB 170, Santa Rosa, CA 95409-5370
www.booksandsuch.com
Baker Publishing Group publications use paper produced from sustainable forestry practices and post-consumer waste whenever possible.
Dedication
In memory of Walt McCoy, who shared with me his mother Viola’s story, which inspired a character in this book.
Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Julie Klassen
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Old Sidmouth (Map)
Epigraph
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
Author’s Note
Discussion Questions
An Excerpt from Julie’s Latest Romantic Historical Mystery
About the Author
Back Ads
Cover Flaps
Back Cover
Old Sidmouth (Map)
Epigraph

Sidmouth is celebrated for its mildness of climate. It agrees very well with me.
My cough is no cough now, and I grow fatter & stronger every day.
—Elizabeth Barrett (Browning)

O satisfy us early with thy mercy; that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.
—Psalm 90:14

The prospect of spending future summers by the sea . . . is very delightful.
—Jane Austen
1

G OD , pick up the pieces.
Put me back together again.
—Jeremiah 17:14
A PRIL 1819
S arah Summers carefully lifted the family heirloom, a warm mantle of nostalgia settling over her. The porcelain plate rimmed in gold had been painted with a colorful image of three sisters in Chinese robes, clustered close as a fourth read to them. Papa had given it to their mother long ago.
Sarah ran a gentle finger over the figures, a lump forming in her throat. Spying a streak of dust, she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and began wiping the plate.
At that moment, two of her sisters burst into the room, as different in looks as in temperament.
“Sarah, tell Vi to give back my straw bonnet.”
Viola scowled. “It’s not even yours. It belonged to—”
Realizing Viola was about to say the forbidden name, Sarah’s heart lurched and her hand with it, and there went the prized plate, crashing to the floor.
Oh no. Sarah knelt and began to frantically gather the scattered shards, inwardly chastising herself. Clumsy fool. . . . Sliding forward on bombazine-clad knees, she stretched to reach every last fragment.
Could the broken pieces ever be put back together?
Standing nearby, Emily berated her twin. “See what you did.”
Sarah murmured, “Not her fault. Mine.”
Emily huffed. “Right. Nothing is ever Viola’s fault. She can do as she pleases, and we are all to feel sorry for her.”
“That is quite enough. Ow!” Sarah raised a pricked finger to her lips, tasting blood. “Now, would you both go and do something useful while I clean this up?”
With another huff, Emily turned and strode from the room in a flutter of pale muslin, Viola in her wake.
Her younger sisters had laid aside mourning gowns late last year. Sarah, however, was mourning more than one loss. She had worn black for nearly two years, even though she had never been married, and their father had been gone for less than a year.
She carefully settled the pieces into a glove box, planning to try to arrange them back into place and glue them together. Most of the fragments were fairly large, except . . . Oh no. Three pieces had all but crumbled.
Pain knifed through her at the melancholy sight—a grim reminder that her family would never be whole again.
Retrieving a broom, she swept up the remaining dust. Then she went to confess to her mother.
Sarah found her in her room as usual, lying in a canopied, French sofa bed, her back propped with bolsters. Today, she was fully dressed in black crepe.
“I am so sorry, Mamma. I’ve done something clumsy and stupid.”
“What is all this fuss about?”
“I broke your plate.”
“My plate? Which?”
“The china plate, with the four girls?”
Sarah lay the box on her lap. Her mother’s soft eyes misted as she regarded its contents. “Oh, that is a shame.” She gingerly picked up a fragment.
“Careful,” Sarah warned. “I cut myself on one of those.”
Her mother didn’t seem to hear. “Your father was so proud of this. He found it in a shop in Bond Street. Said it reminded him of our four girls—before Georgiana came along, of course. He insisted we display it in the drawing room, although it matched none of the other furnishings.” She shook her head, a slight tilt to her lips. “Such a sentimental dear he was . . . then.”
Sarah’s throat thickened. “Yes.”
Her once-benign papa had become angry and bitter during the final two months of his life. Her fault as well, at least in part.
“What a pity.” Her mother replaced the piece with a sigh. “You really loved it, I know.”
“Me? I thought you treasured it.”
Eugenia Summers looked up at her. “Oh, I liked it well enough, because your father gave it to me. But I don’t break my heart over its loss, and neither should you.”
“Thank you, Mamma. You are very kind.”
“And you, my dear girl, take too much on yourself. Always have. Especially since . . . Well, we shan’t speak of that now.” Mamma forced a smile and changed the subject. “We expect Mr. Alford soon, do we not?”
“Yes. Tea will be ready in a few minutes. I hope he brings good news.”
Mamma pressed her hand. “Somehow, my dear, I doubt it.”
Since Papa’s death, their Gloucestershire estate, entailed through the male line as it was, had gone to a relative they barely knew.
Thankfully, their father had purchased this house with money inherited from a maternal uncle. Therefore Sea View was not included in the entail, and he was able to leave it to his wife in his will. He had also agreed to a jointure for her in the event of his death, although they had yet to learn the particulars. They hoped the funds would be enough to live on.
Since moving to Sidmouth six months before, they had been paying expenses from Mamma’s dress allowance and pin money, which she had saved for years. But that nest egg was rapidly dwindling.
Sarah glanced around her mother’s room. “Shall I bring in a few extra chairs, or . . . ?”
“No, let us meet him in the drawing room. I think I can manage it. I don’t want the man to see how weak I’ve become.”
“Very well.” Stepping from Mamma’s room into the nearby parlour, Sarah set the glove box on her worktable and then went belowstairs for the tea things.
While she poured the hot water, their cook added a plate of currant cakes to the tray. “Made these myself. That baker charges too much in my view.”
Sarah glanced at the plate. The thin icing did not quite conceal the burnt edges of the lopsided cakes. Baking had never been Mrs. Besley’s forte, but they would have to do.
She thanked the cook and returned to the main floor. There Sarah and Viola helped their mother into the drawing room just as the family solicitor, Nigel Alford, arrived as scheduled. They had seen the man shortly after Papa’s death, but this was his first visit to Sea View.
Emily and Georgiana joined them, and Sarah poured the tea while Emily passed the plate of cakes. The solicitor took one small bite, wrinkled his nose, and set the cake down.
After sipping his tea, Mr. Alford cleared his throat and addressed his former client’s wife.
“Your husband’s will has been proved and the bulk of the estate gone to his heir, as expected. I have paid the outstanding debts and am afraid I must tell you that your financial situation is rather bleak.” He focused on Mamma as though the girls were not even there. “The jointure agreed to in your marriage settlement is in the form of an annuity, the interest to be paid annually. Unfortunately, t