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Back Sisters of Gold
Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. Title page
  3. Dedication page
  4. A Week’s Work in Birmingham
  5. I
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Ten
  16. Eleven
  17. Twelve
  18. Thirteen
  19. Fourteen
  20. Fifteen
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-One
  27. Twenty-Two
  28. Twenty-Three
  29. Twenty-Four
  30. II
  31. Twenty-Five
  32. Twenty-Six
  33. Twenty-Seven
  34. Twenty-Eight
  35. Twenty-Nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-One
  38. Thirty-Two
  39. Thirty-Three
  40. Thirty-Four
  41. Thirty-Five
  42. Thirty-Six
  43. Thirty-Seven
  44. Thirty-Eight
  45. Thirty-Nine
  46. III
  47. Forty
  48. Forty-One
  49. Forty-Two
  50. Forty-Three
  51. Forty-Four
  52. Forty-Five
  53. Forty-Six
  54. Forty-Seven
  55. Forty-Eight
  56. Forty-Nine
  57. Fifty
  58. Fifty-One
  59. Fifty-Two
  60. Fifty-Three
  61. Acknowledgements
  62. Further Reading
  63. About the Author
  64. By the Same Author

Charles kept to his word for the next few weeks. The two of them still visited in the village together, walked and talked, though she was aware of a certain strain between them. He did not seem to open his heart to her in the warm, confiding way that he had done before. She wondered if Charles was angry with her. He was often moody and curt.

‘Is there anything wrong, Charles?’ she asked nervously a number of times, willing him to come back to her.

‘Not in the least,’ he would say politely, giving a forced smile that hardly reassured her. Just when they were promised to each other, when they could be at their closest and most loving, he had become cold and impossible to understand, almost as if he was punishing her for something. Miserably, she searched her memory for anything she might have done wrong.

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Four

That warm Sunday, the first in August, they had been to the evening service.

William Hanson had conducted it, but Charles was there. Margaret, sitting beside Annie, watched him uneasily for the hour they were in the chapel as the day reached a gentle, summer end. He sat very still, looking forward. She sat wretchedly, wondering what he was thinking. She was so anxious to make things right with him.

The light outside was mellow, the sun sinking as the service ended. Charles stayed long on his knees after the congregation left. The farmers among them paused for a while in the balmy evening, catching up on local news before collecting their mounts from the stable. Their low voices drifted in through the open door and the air was sweet with the smells of harvest.

Margaret waited, her troubled heart making it hard to sit still. Charles remained in prayer, a lone, fraught figure, his face tilted back so that the copper light of evening bathed his features. The sight of him put her in turmoil. She remembered his kiss, the force of him, his body tense against her. Her feelings were a mixture of tenderness and disquiet that she could not make sense of. All she knew was that this man affected her like no one else.