Vexing the Viscount by Allie Kensington EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Allie Kensington
- Language: English
- Genre: Religious Historical Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.2 MB
- Price: Free
Lady Elizabeth Berkeley sat in her favorite window seat and kept her
nose behind her book—a book she’d read a hundred times and
committed the most enjoyable parts to memory.
The winter sun peeked out between the clouds in the early
afternoon. Lizzie turned the pages without reading a word, her mind off in
adventures of her own making. Everyone knew she loved to read, but only
one person had known she wanted to write. And her late father, the Duke of
Cheshire, had promised absolute secrecy on the subject.
“Miss you, Papa,” she whispered, as she plotted her next novel in her
mind. She turned another page. With her beloved book in her hand, she let
her mind run wild on the story that was in her brain. The ritual of holding a
book while creating a story in her head had become second nature over the
years. No one suspected that she wasn’t reading every word on the page,
and that left her ample time to create stories without anyone knowing. She
still loved reading and often read a considerable amount of pages every
time she opened a book; but the guise of reading had also opened up the
world of her imagination, even if there was no one else around to take
notice.
She wrote her first story when she was six. It was a lovely little tale
about a barn cat who had wandered through the world looking for a home.
One day, the cat had found a beautiful little girl, with dark brown ringlets,
named Lizzie. Lizzie had a beautiful stable, and the barn cat lived in it and
was happy.
Her father had praised Lizzie’s beautiful story, and had even written the
words for her on the page, although he was a busy duke. She’d drawn the
pictures of the brown-eyed girl holding and playing with the animal to go
along with the short story; and as luck would have it, the little story had
convinced her father to let Lizzie keep the beautiful cat that her story was
based on.
Lizzie sighed happily. Yes, from a very young age, she had learned
without a doubt there was power in words and magic in stories.
That was the start of her weekly writing with her father. She would tell
him a story, and he would set quill and ink to parchment and write all of her
words.
She’d added her drawings in the margins and the blank pages in
between her father’s beautiful hand.
Memories flooded her, words swimming together as her eyes blurred
out the sentences and soaked back into the past.
“Never stop reading, my Lizzie,” her father had said. It was one of the
last things he’d said to her. He drew her close, and Lizzie remembered the
distinct scent of her father—cedar wood and soap. “And never stop writing.
You, my girl, have more stories inside of you.”
Tears had filled her eyes, and her voice had felt small. “I cannot do this
without you, Papa.”
He’d patted her hand. “Nonsense, child. You keep writing and one day
your books will fill libraries.”
Lizzie shook her head. “There are very few writers who are women,
Papa.”
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