BooksBarbecue
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

‘Oh –’ She brushed it off with a laugh. ‘Only when I was very young. A lad mooning about who almost persuaded me. But then I met Eb. This other feller didn’t stand a chance after that!’

Margaret smiled, but she could see it was not the same. Already fragile, she had lost herself to him. He was like the smoke and fire that descended on Mount Sinai; like the rushing wind of Pentecost, bearing her along.

The door opened suddenly and Uncle Eb’s cheerful face appeared. ‘All right, ladies?’ he asked.

‘Eb,’ Harriet said in a warning tone. ‘Just give us a few more moments, will you?’

Eb looked from one to the other of them, suddenly solemn. ‘Right you are,’ he said, closing the door behind him.

But the mood had been broken. Margaret could not bear to go on, to put these things into words to Aunt Harriet. Not even about how it began, the afternoon when she and Charles had been alone in the house. Even this was not the beginning of how her feelings first caught light, because she had been fascinated by him from the moment he arrived on their doorstep in that sweeping black coat. But that day they were alone in the parlour was when he captured her, hungry and innocent as she was.

Charles was standing with his back to the fire as if deeply lost in thought, his gaze fixed on the trees beyond the window. Margaret had been about to ask him if he would care for some tea, but she sat respectfully, not wanting to interrupt. She ached for him to share his thoughts with her.

Suddenly seeming to come back to the room, he looked across at her and smiled.

‘May I sit with you a moment, Margaret?’

She was on a stiff-backed couch on which there was only room for two and she was startled by this. Was it quite correct for them to sit so close, side by side? But of course, such a pure and holy man could not mean any harm – and in her father’s house.

‘Of course,’ she said, shifting as far towards one end as she could. ‘Please make yourself comfortable. Shall we have some tea?’

‘Oh, in a moment,’ he said. He gave a quick smile. ‘That would be nice, yes.’

He moved the tails of his jacket aside with a delicate gesture and sat lightly beside her, on her right. Margaret’s heart felt like a piston inside her, so loud she thought he must hear it. Blood thundered through her veins.

He turned and gave her that smile, looking carefully at her.