The Queen's Ball by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: victorian romance, regency romance, Historical Romance, Clean & Wholesome Romance, christian romance
Publisher: Mirror Press, LLC
Published: 2018-10-09T04:00:00+00:00

About the Rebecca Connolly

Rebecca Connolly writes romances, both period and contemporary, because she absolutely loves a good love story. She has been creating stories since childhood, and there are home videos to prove it! She started writing them down in elementary school and has never looked back. She currently lives in Minnesota, spends every spare moment away from her day job absorbed in her writing, and is a hot cocoa addict.

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Jennifer Moore

Chapter One

Spring 1890

Isle of Wight, UK

Grant Mason frowned, pulling away as his mother’s elbow poked into his arm.

“Do you hear that?” she hissed. “Right behind us.”

The instant the hymn had begun, the unknown woman’s voice sounded clearly among the others in the congregation. Of course he’d heard. It was impossible not to when she sat directly behind them, only a few pews back. Grant did not consider himself an expert on music by any stretch of the imagination, but even he could tell her singing was remarkable.

His mother continued to squirm. “Have you ever? That voice. Such perfect pitch.” The feathers on her wide hat brushed his face as she turned her head for a better view. “Who is she?”

“Mother.” Grant’s whisper was rather loud, but he had no choice if he wanted to be heard with the congregation singing on all sides. “Turn around.”

The woman’s voice stopped, though the hymn continued.

Grant rolled his eyes. Obviously Mother’s backward glances had not been discreet.

“She is sitting with the Wickershams,” his mother whispered. “Do you suppose she is a relative?”

He shrugged, hoping his mother would imitate his silence. Her not-so-quiet whispers were drawing glances from other parishioners.

“I have never heard them speak of extended family, and surely they would have told me if a relative was coming for a visit,” she continued.

“We can ask them after the service.” Grant cocked his head, listening, but the woman’s singing had not resumed.

“How long is she here, do you suppose?”

He touched his forefinger to his lips, then pointed down at his mother’s hymnal, indicating for her to stop talking and sing.

“The choir festival—”

“I know, Mother.” He put a hand on hers. “But we can do nothing about it until after the service.”

She nodded and sat back, finding her place in the song just in time to sing the last words, and then closed the hymnal with a sigh.

Grant knew she must be disappointed. “It Is Well With My Soul” was one of her favorite hymns, but she had naught to blame but her own snooping for the missed opportunity. He wondered if the woman behind him felt the same regret. From the resounding sound of her voice, she must be a person who enjoyed singing. If only his mother’s curiosity had not embarrassed her into silence.

Throughout the sermon, Grant’s thoughts returned to the mystery singer. He had been enchanted by her voice and, though he’d not admit it to his mother, or anyone else for that matter, he was curious. His mother was right; he’d never known the Wickershams to have relatives visit.

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