ANN WAS DEEP in the pages of a novel by Mrs. Radcliffe. Her father would answer; he was out there reading to her sisters in the sitting room. The visitor was probably John Simon, who had been back to the house once already to collect a few small items after settling Clara in the little cabin. The bar on the front door clunked, and a murmur of male voices seeped over the threshold of her bedroom. She hoped her father would not call for her help. Her candlelight time alone with her books was precious. Her reading gave her food for thought for the next day, keeping her mind alive through hours of repetitious chores. “Ann.” Her father raised his voice from its previous low rumbling so it carried clearly to her. She sighed. Perhaps her father’s request would be quick and she could return to her novel in just a minute or two. She marked her place in the book with one finger and clutched it to her bosom with one hand. With the other hand, she cleared her skirt from its tangles around her feet, then rose from her chair and brushed through her bedroom doorway.
What do You think about Fairer Than Morning (2011)?
