Always In My Heart
Brenda Stuart returns to her late husband’s home devastated by his loss only to find herself accused of bestowing favours upon the Germans. Life has been difficult for her over the war, having been held in an internment camp in France simply because of her nationality. Thankful that her son at least was safe in the care of his grandmother, she now finds that she has lost him too, and her life is in turmoil.Prue, her beloved sister-in-law, is also a war widow but has now fallen in love with an Italian PoW who works on the family estate. Once the war ends they hope to marry but she has reckoned without the disapproval of her family, or the nation.The two friends support each other in an attempt to resolve their problems and rebuild their lives. They even try starting a business, but it does not prove easy.
Читать Always In My Heart онлайн беплатно
Historical Sagas
Lakeland Lily
The Bobbin Girls
The Favourite Child
Kitty Little
For All Our Tomorrows
Home is Where the Heart Is
Gracie’s Sin
Daisy’s Secret
Ruby McBride
Dancing on Deansgate
Watch for the Talleyman
Polly’s Pride
Polly’s War
House of Angels
Angels at War
The Promise
My Lady Deceiver
The Luckpenny Series
Luckypenny Land
Wishing Water
Larkrigg Fell
Poorhouse Lane Series
The Girl from Poorhouse Lane
The Woman from Heartbreak
House
Champion Street Market Series
Putting on the Style
Fools Fall in Love
That’ll Be the Day
Candy Kisses
Who’s Sorry Now
Lonely Teardrops
Women’s Contemporary Fiction
Trapped
Historical Romances
Madeiran Legacy
Whispering Shadows
Rhapsody Creek
Proud Alliance
Outrageous Fortune
Biographical Historical
Hostage Queen
Reluctant Queen
The Queen and the Courtesan
The Duchess of Drury Lane
Lady of Passion
Born in Lancashire, FREDA LIGHTFOOT has been a teacher and a bookseller, and in a mad moment even tried her hand at the ‘good life’. A prolific and much-loved saga writer, Freda’s work is inspired by memories of her Lancashire childhood and her passion for history. For more information about Freda, visit her website: www.fredalightfoot.co.uk
Contents
1944
Rain pounded upon the windows as the small bus wound its way along narrow lanes. The sound of its grinding gears as it lurched around a bend and began to climb steeply upwards stirred Brenda from a deep sleep. Blinking herself awake, she gazed out at the scramble of sharp peaks, jutting rocks and smooth green-humped hills, disappointed they were not lit by the warmth of September sunshine. Yet she felt some relief to have at last reached the Pennines. The journey had been long and difficult. She still shivered at the memory of being halted and searched by a German guard at the foot of the Pyrenees in Spain. A terrifying moment! Now, after years of danger she was at last safe; in a bus driving mile upon mile over beautiful open moors cloaked in purple heather.
Eventually the vehicle stopped and the driver called out, ‘Trowbridge Hall.’ Hitching her heavy bag high on to her shoulder, Brenda climbed out of the warmth of the bus into the chill damp of the valley. When first she’d set off from France she’d felt dizzy with anticipation, filled with hope. But much as she had longed to reach her destination, now a nervous tension was setting in. She could remember all too well the scowls, furious arguments and strong tone of disapproval on the day she’d been thrown out of the manor house all those years ago.
Today it felt strangely silent as Brenda walked down the rutted track, the only sound that of her boots squelching in the mud, a clogging mist swirling about her. Thankfully it had at last stopped raining. Turning a corner, she paused to gaze up at the tall chimneys, mullioned windows and grey stone walls of this grand house. For a moment her nervousness faded even if the mist did not. When at a low ebb during her recent troubles she would often bring to mind the majesty of these rolling hills, and the autumn glory of the scabious, goldenrod and blue harebells that clustered the verges. The memory of this place had at times helped to keep her sane.
Her heartbeat quickened as she recalled coming to work here back in the spring of 1939. That was the day she and Jack had first met, and despite her being no more than a mere scullery maid and he the son of a wealthy land owner, they’d fallen in love almost at first sight. At just seventeen she’d been young and eager for a new life, utterly captivated by his good looks, his gentle kindness, and the way his blue-grey eyes smiled at her. Whenever her day’s work ended and she’d take a walk for a breath of fresh air, Jack would be sitting on a wall or leaning against a tree waiting for her.
‘I thought I’d show you around,’ he’d said with a twinkling smile the first time she’d found him there. The thought had thrilled her.
‘Oh, that would be lovely.’ She’d felt herself blushing even as her insides tingled with excitement.
They’d stepped out along the path into the wood, the dog at his heels as Jack explained how he didn’t want her to get lost. ‘It’s not a good idea to venture too far on your own as it’s all too easy to lose your way in these woods,’ he’d warned.
‘I confess I am more accustomed to the busy streets of Manchester,’ Brenda had admitted, gazing in wonder at the bluebells in bloom. It was May and she could hear the rippling chatter of fieldfares celebrating the coming of warmer weather. ‘Or at least the Castlefield part of the city. I’m more used to walking along canal towpaths than in woodlands. Never really been out much in the countryside before, but it is so beautiful here I’d love to explore it.’
