A Stranger at Fellsworth
by Sarah E. Ladd
Series: A Treasures of Surrey Novel
Paperback: 336 pages
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
On Sale: May 16, 2017
Could losing everything be the best thing to happen to Annabelle Thorley?
In the fallout of her deceased father’s financial ruin, Annabelle’s prospects are looking bleak. Her fiancé has called off their betrothal, and now she remains at the mercy of her controlling and often cruel brother. Annabelle soon faces the fact that her only hope for a better life is to do the unthinkable and run away to Fellsworth, the home of her long-estranged aunt and uncle, where a teaching position awaits her. Working for a wage for the first time in her life forces Annabelle to adapt to often unpleasant situations as friendships and roles she’s taken for granted are called into question.
Owen Locke is unswerving in his commitments. As a widower and father, he is fiercely protective of his only daughter. As an industrious gamekeeper, he is intent on keeping poachers at bay even though his ambition has always been to eventually purchase land that he can call his own. When a chance encounter introduces him to the lovely Annabelle Thorley, his steady life is shaken. For the first time since his wife’s tragic death, Owen begins to dream of a second chance at love.
As Owen and Annabelle grow closer, ominous forces threaten the peace they thought they’d found. Poachers, mysterious strangers, and murderers converge at Fellsworth, forcing Annabelle and Owen to a test of fortitude and bravery to stop the shadow of the past from ruining their hopes for the future.
Amazon | Books-A-Million | Barnes & Noble
EXCERPT:
How I dread this ball tonight.” Annabelle squinted in the bright early afternoon sunlight and groaned as she adjusted the red feather on her straw bonnet to keep it from bouncing against her face with each step.
Crosley, Annabelle’s lady’s maid, shifted the brown package in her arms and lengthened her stride to match her mistress’s. “Do not fret, miss. Tomorrow this time it will just be a memory. ’Twill be over soon enough.”
“That’s just it.” Annabelle lifted her lace handkerchief to her nose to avoid the unpleasant, pungent scents as they passed two vagabonds near an alley. “I don’t think it will be over anytime soon. Thomas is determined that I should marry Mr. Bartrell, and he’ll not soon forget it. I am determined that I should not marry him. You can see the predicament.”
“It will work out in the end, I am sure of it.”
Crosley’s confident tone did little to squelch the escalating apprehension building within Annabelle. “You are always optimistic.”
The lady’s maid shrugged. “It can always be worse, miss. Always. As long as you remember that, anything is bearable.”
Annabelle raised her voice to be heard above the clatter of a passing carriage and horses’ hooves. “I suppose you are right. But in the meantime, if I must attend this ball, it would be more tolerable if I had a new gown to wear. Everyone will be there, and I have attended ever so many events in the yellow silk.”
Crosley nodded at the package she was carrying. “I’ll sew a lace overlay on the bodice, and these new gloves will breathe new life into it. Just wait and see.”
Annabelle opened her mouth to respond, but a sudden, sharp tug on her right wrist jerked her entire body. Someone—or something—pulled the silk reticule looped on her gloved wrist, the force of the action nearly wrenching her from her feet.
The ribbon securing the small bag gave way, and her reticule snapped free. A cry escaped her lips, and she whirled her head around to assess the source.
A haggard beggar woman clad in a frayed, dingy gown with wild auburn hair clutched Annabelle’s reticule to her chest and turned to run, but the man next to her captured Annabelle’s attention. He must have witnessed the act of thievery, for within seconds he had a firm grip on the woman’s arm. His much larger size easily prevented her escape.
Annabelle’s heart raced as the scene unfolded before her. The woman thrashed and kicked in an attempt to free herself. The man remained steady. Onlookers paused to watch the spectacle, but no one intervened.
The man’s broad back was to Annabelle. Their positions shifted, and the man seized the reticule from the woman with his available hand. After several minutes the woman ceased her squirming, and once he could free his hand, he extended the bag to Annabelle. “I believe this belongs to you.”
She stared at the reticule in his hand with hesitation, as if it were a snake that might strike. She reached out and accepted it.
“Yes, it does. Thank you.”
Taken from “A Stranger at Fellsworth” by Sarah Ladd Copyright © 2017 by Sarah Ladd. Used by permission of http://www.thomasnelson.com/.
Connect with Sarah
Website | Facebook | Twitter
Thank you for the review. A new author and book for me.
ReplyDeleteI grabbed the books in her Whispers on the Moors series when they were on sale. Just have to find the time to read them!
DeleteThanks for being a part of the tour!
ReplyDelete