Before the Kiss: A Book Club Belles Society novella by Jayne Fresina

Author:Jayne Fresina [Fresina, Jayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2014-05-05T12:00:00+00:00

Read on for a sneak peek at

Once Upon a Kiss

The Book Club Belles Society

Available June 2014

One

End of Summer, 1815

“Well, someone has to go first, and since you’re all a bunch of dainty blossoms, I daresay it will have to be me.”

So declared Miss Justina Penny who, despite being one of the youngest in the group, saw herself as a fearless adventurer and hoped one day to see a statue erected in her honor on the village green.

“Without risk,” she was fond of saying, “there is nothing gained.”

The five young ladies of the Book Club Belles Society, rounding the bend together while involved in lively debate, had not seen the wide brown puddle lying in wait for them until it was at their feet. While the other ladies still pondered the best route around it, Justina made up her mind with the reckless aplomb for which she was notorious. Ignoring any words of caution uttered by her companions, she gathered up her skirts, reversed a good distance, and took a running leap.

Her walking boots left the earth, goose bumps fluttered across her skin, and she exhaled a joyful gust of triumphant laughter.

It turned out to be premature, which was also by no means unusual for her.

The first part of her journey proceeded well enough, even—it was admitted later by her sister—with a spectacular sort of style, if one could overlook the abundant display of leg and stocking. But where her flight failed most was at its end.

Justina felt herself descending far too quickly and several feet short of dry lane. In fact, she was headed directly for the deepest, brownest center of what now appeared to be a lake, rather than a puddle.

Compounding her misfortune, here came Mrs. Dockley, at that same moment, innocently opening her gate. The tidy, fragile old lady stepped out into the lane in her Sunday best, oblivious to the unstoppable airborne menace descending rapidly toward her with the speed and grace of a cannon ball.

***

August 29th, 1815 A.D.

Today I splashed Mrs. Dockley from head to toe, broke a china plate, and failed to heed Mama. Thrice. All these things, but for the last, were quite accidental. I was quarrelsome on four occasions and fibbed regarding the china plate, pieces of which will one day be found buried in the herb garden and not in the possession of a wild-eyed, knife-wielding gypsy with a wart and a wooden foot. Although I think my version of events is better.

Sometimes real life is very dull, or simply inconvenient, and things never turn out quite the way one expects or hopes. I have heard it said that challenges are sent to try us. I would like to know who is sending so many to me, for I believe they have been misaddressed. I am quite tried enough, and I suspect that someone, somewhere, is completely light since I have all their calamities as well as my own.

Speaking of which, today I thought of the Wrong Man again.

I know not why he continues to plague me, unless it is a developing, chronic case of Maiden’s Palsy.

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