Undone by Virginia Henley EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Virginia Henley
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.6 MB
- Price: Free
County Roscommon,
Ireland—1751
A brilliant beam of sunlight reflecting on the water momentarily blinded
him, then, in the blink of an eye, a radiant vision appeared before him. Is
she real, or is she a wood sprite? he mused. After all, this is Ireland.
The girl was slim and delicate, with an ethereal quality about her. As he
stared, a sunbeam touched her, forming a glorious halo about her head, and
her shining hair, falling in ringlets below her waist, turned the color of purespun gold. She stood amidst the tall grasses of the riverbank while
dragonflies and tiny insects with transparent wings flitted about her, rising
like motes of dust from the myriad wildflowers. He had the distinct
impression that if he moved or spoke, he would break the magic spell and
she would vanish into thin air.
John Campbell, unable to help himself, couldn’t resist quoting A
Midsummer Night’s Dream. “Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.”
The queen of fairies turned her head to gaze at him. “What, jealous
Oberon?” She raised a dismissive hand to the dragon-flies. “Fairies, skip
hence.” She lifted a proud chin and glanced away from him with disdain. “I
have forsworn his bed and company.”
The tall, dark young man took a step toward her and delivered Oberon’s
line. “Tarry, rash wanton! Am not I thy lord?”
Titania smiled and sank into a curtsy. “Then I must be thy lady.”
He closed the distance between them in two strides and, laughing, took
her hands and raised her. “What on earth is a beautiful English lady doing
unattended in a meadow in the wilds of Ireland?”
He looked compellingly dark and dangerous, but her glance traveled over
the fishing basket and the rod slung casually across his back. “I live here.
I’ve come to the River Suck for salmon, just as you have, sir. Come, I’ll
show you a good spot.”
He followed her as if mesmerized to a place where the willows hung low
on the riverbank to dip their weeping branches into the water, then sat down
beside her and cast his line. The enchanting creature was a mystery he could
not fathom. Though barefoot and wearing a threadbare smock that
shamelessly revealed her ankles, she spoke in a cultured English voice and
was obviously well-read. “You have no trace of Irish dialect in your
speech.”
Pretending a confidence she did not quite feel, she crossed her legs,
cocked her head to one side and launched into a ditty:
“In Dublin’s fair city, where the girls are so pretty,
I first set me eyes on sweet Molly Mallone;
Through streets broad an’ narrow, she wheeled her
wheelbarrow,
Cryin’ cockles an’ muscles, alive, alive-o!”
Her Irish brogue was rich and authentic; her singing sweet and
melodious. Her accent changed from Irish to Scots in a heartbeat as she
decided to trust him. “I detect a wee burr in yer own speech, laddie. I’d
guess ye’ve spent time in Scotland.”
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