The Book of Hours by Davis Bunn

Author:Davis Bunn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2010-03-27T04:00:00+00:00

Cecilia had almost forgotten just how bad the fear could be.

The more crowded the meeting hall became, the louder the roar in her ears grew. Her entire midsection felt ground into a single huge knot, one so tight her heart had to hammer like mad just to force the blood through. When the mayor banged his gavel, she jerked like a rabbit caught in the crosshairs. She could not remember what she was going to say, even with the words written on the cards in her hands. It was just so much scrawl, written by another person speaking a foreign tongue. Someone who was not gripped by terror’s fist. Someone sane.

Even the mayor’s words seemed caught by the wind’s roar. She forced herself to look at him, to watch as he fielded questions and objections. She felt a battery of eyes upon her, many of them hostile. The vicar slipped into the chair beside her and patted her hand. Trevor’s touch seemed merely to scald her with all that was yet to come.

She tried to concentrate as first the tweedy Lavinia Winniskill and then the councilwoman rose and spoke to the crowd. All she could catch was how it seemed as though the entire audience applauded their every word. That and the way the pair loaded their speeches with vehement scorn. Although she could not catch the words, the tone came through loud and clear. Over and over the thought echoed through her mind, they hate me, and if they don’t hate me now, they soon will.

The second woman seated herself to what sounded like a thunderous ovation. Cecilia searched the room and saw only a few sympathetic faces. For some reason she latched onto Brian Blackstone, seated in a ridiculously tight navy jacket and tie, his hair carefully combed and his tan looking even darker than normal. He watched her with those calm gray eyes, his expression serious. Meeting his gaze left her able to take an almost steady breath and focus enough to hear when the mayor turned her way and said, “Our very own Dr. Cecilia Lyons will speak on behalf of the village church society.”

Her momentary gift of calm was washed away in another flood of terror. She wanted to turn and flee. But the vicar was there, standing now to applaud and offer her a hand, as much to help her up as to wish her well. The pale fear in his own features only added to her dismay. She started toward the podium, wishing for nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

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