Strands of Bronze and Gold, page 28
“Oh, yes. I thought you already knew. If you’ll wait a while. Because I have all this business to attend to first—the servants and the property, not to mention I’m only seventeen and three-quarters, you know. Or perhaps you didn’t know that is my age? In any case, nineteen and three-quarters is much older, I think, much more ready for marriage.” I smiled at my beloved. “In the meantime Anne and Junius will live with me at the abbey, and I’m going to help my brother Harry get an appointment to West Point Academy. Also, I—I want to be certain I’ve recovered as much as I ever will from all that’s happened. It was so—so horrible, Gideon. There’s not a word for how ghastly it was.”
“I’m so sorry for all that, Sophie. I’ll wait as long as you want.” He put his arms around me, and they trembled as he kept himself from crushing me to him. And then he did crush me to him. It was the most perfect thing I’ve ever felt in my life. We didn’t speak for some time. There were a few things I had learned from Bernard that I could teach Gideon. (None of my “missish pecks,” for instance.) Perhaps I didn’t want to wait two years to marry my darling preacher after all.
Gideon gave a sudden gasp. I turned and followed his eyes. The misty shade of a redheaded woman in a primrose gown stood among the daffodils. For a moment she watched us, smiling. Then the world seemed all of light, she was gone, and I thought I heard a far-off, soft rush of wings.
I leaned back against Gideon, and all sorts of beautiful futures with him flashed through my mind. Because, you see, anything was possible for us.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I wish to thank the Brothers Grimm and Charles Perrault, who told versions of the tale of Bluebeard, which I read (and was disturbed by) when I was a child.
I’m very grateful to my wonderful agent, Wendy Schmalz, and my discerning editor, Allison Wortche, because they recognized the value of this story and were willing to help me make it what it could be.
I am indebted to Ellen Anson, Monica Webster, Carol Trost, Emily VanYperen, Bethany Bailey, and James, Phillip, and Stella Nickerson, all of whom read early drafts of this book and offered encouragement and suggestions.
Finally I express my love and gratitude to my husband, Ted, who allows me to take over the computer, helps with word-processor mysteries, and always lets me spread my wings.
JANE NICKERSON
For many years Jane Nickerson and her family lived in a big old house in Aberdeen, Mississippi, where she was the children’s librarian. She has always loved the South, “the olden days,” Gothic tales, houses, kids, writing, and interesting villains. She and her husband now make their home in Ontario, Canada. Please visit her on the Web at jane-nickerson.com.
Jane Nickerson, Strands of Bronze and Gold
