A Castle for Christmas by Stephenia H. McGee

Author:Stephenia H. McGee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian Fiction, Time Travel Romance, Historical Romance, Clean and Wholesome Romance, Time Travel, Religious Fiction, Inspirational Romance
ISBN: 9781635640618
Publisher: By The Vine Press
Published: 2021-10-28T00:00:00+00:00

Ten

Now what was she supposed to do? Avery’s pulse fluttered like a hummingbird trapped in a cage. She’d prayed, considered, and prayed some more. The answer pressing on her heart remained unmovable.

She wouldn’t be going home.

Not that she had much to go back to. In her own time, she would live less than a year, her brain casting off bits of her memory like a bath bomb dissolving in water until nothing remained. That fact didn’t negate the worry quivering through her. Living life outside of one’s own time brought very real fears, even if she had been healed from her CJD. What this era lacked in modern conveniences it made up for in difficulties. And not simply because they lacked basic sanitation.

Why would God send her here? She’d gladly take the healing. Maybe even be on board with a life in the past. But here? Early nineteen hundreds she could have lived with. They had electricity. Decent bathrooms.

This place was…barbaric.

Beatrice tugged a comb through her hair, trying to work through the knots Avery’s night of tossing and turning had produced. She’d risen early, washed as best as she could with lukewarm water and a rag, and scrubbed a cloth against her teeth in an effort to gain at least a measure of cleanliness. Apparently these people chewed on a twig until it frayed and then used that to scrub at their teeth. No thanks.

Today she would see the baron again. After his declaration two nights before that he needed to pray, he’d spent the entire next day out on a winter hunt with the visiting nobility. Her maids had asked if she wanted to spend the day in the hall with the other women, but she’d declined, opting to stay in her room.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. But she’d needed the time. They didn’t have any Bibles, but Beatrice had brought her a copy of Lady Gwenllian’s psalter, a small book with the Psalms. But the entire thing was written in Latin. Still, Avery enjoyed looking at the beautiful artwork as her heart recalled verses of God’s protection that she’d long ago memorized.

“I am pleased you are feeling better today, milady.” Beatrice tugged on a particularly difficult knot, snatching Avery’s head backward.

She withheld a groan. “I think my situation was more to blame than any illness. Too many new things and no chance of going home.”

Beatrice patted her shoulder. “I’ve been praying you will be happy here.” Another few tugs. “And that you and the lord will find joy in your arrangement.”

“You’ve been praying that?”

“Aye, milady.” She pulled up a lock of hair and twisted it toward the back of Avery’s head. “And Agnes says that Lady Sarah has gone to chapel every morn, praying for a love to grow between you and her brother.”

People had been praying for some kind of spark to happen between her and Robert? Could that be why she felt this unexplainable draw to a man she barely knew? She pushed the thought aside.

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