Are you afraid?"Įlizabeth shook her head ever so slightly, and just as slightly, her grasp on Alexandra's hands increased. But now she understood the odd light in the room, and the equally strange warmth. Father needed her, too-though he was locked in the library with his gin. Her mother needed her, as did her two sisters, who were only seven and nine. "Can you see them?"Īlexandra felt the tears rise. What can I get you? Do you want a sip of water?"Įlizabeth smiled wanly, lying prone on the large bed, dwarfed by the pillows behind her, the blankets over her. "Father said you wished to see me, Mother. She was only thirty-eight years old now, but she looked ninety.Īlexandra sat, reaching for her thin, frail hands. Elizabeth had been so beautiful, so lively, so alive. Being the eldest-all of seventeen-meant she had to hold the family together now in this crisis.Īlexandra rushed to her mother's side, her heart clenching as she looked at her gaunt, unrecognizable face and frame.
Elizabeth had been fading away before Alexandra and her younger sisters' eyes for months. She hadn't cried, not even once, not even when her father had told her that her mother had a terrible and fatal disease. "I am here, Mother," she whispered back.Īnd then, because Elizabeth Bolton was dying and would not last another night, because she had wasted away from the cancer eating at her, because she was so frail and weak now that she could barely see, much less hear, Alexandra hurried forward. The room's single armchair was a dark, intense red.
The bureau was a dark, rich mahogany, as was the bed, and the bedding was wine and gold. Gold-and-burgundy wallpaper adorned the walls, and dark draperies were closed over the bedroom's two windows. "Alex.andra?" her mother whispered from the bed. There was so much light, and Alexandra hesitated, confused. If she isn’t on the back of a reining horse, she can be found madly at work in her office, penning her latest romance novel. She lives on a ranch in Arizona with her dogs, broodmares and the year’s current crop of foals. Brenda Joyce is a New York Times bestselling author of more than 50 novels and novellas, including the popular and critically acclaimed de Warenne Dynasty Saga, a series of novels set in Regency and Victorian England.
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