Title: Disturbingly
Beautiful – A Paradox in Time
Author: J & L Wells
Genre: New Adult, Time
Travel/ Regency Romance
Release Date November 2014
The
premeditated ripping of her dress seals her fate, and an intricate family plot
slowly begins to unravel in which she finds herself centre stage. She was never
supposed to leave Haunchcroft estate … and he will do everything in his power
to keep her there.
Nell Dodsworth, a nineteenth-century
governess, is seeking alternative employment following the tragic passing of
her ward, Abigale. Her master, Mr Buchannan, suggests that she work for his
elder sister, and until such time as she is able to take up the position, he
insists that she remain at Haunchcroft Estate.
It is unheard of for a master to be so
familiar with a member of the household as Mr Buchannan is with Nell, and after
an uncomfortable encounter, he confuses her with his parting words … “My dear,
I find you disturbingly beautiful.”
For reasons known only to her, Nell is
anything but fond of Mr Buchannan and does everything in her power to avoid
him. However, her avoidance tactics are usually unsuccessful, for it always
seems that he has a way of seeking her out.
Upon overhearing a conversation between
Mr Buchannan and his bedridden father, the Earl of Dulverton, Nell is unnerved
by the revelation that her master intends to marry her. As the glass she is
holding slips from her fingers, the noise alerts Mr Buchannan and she is
discovered. While escorting her onto the landing, he requests that she join him
in his bedchamber.
Unnerved by a thief on the estate, Nell
gives chase and in so doing manages to travel forward in time, finding herself
in the 1960s. Having left her archaic existence far behind, her life is
suddenly enhanced as she finds friendship, egalitarianism and true love. But
complexities unfold, leaving her broken-hearted after finding the man with whom
she hopes to share the rest of her life….
On finding that there is no future for
her in that time period, Nell returns home, though all is not well. The ripping
of her dress seals her fate, and an intricate family plot slowly begins to
unravel in which she is centre stage….
It is all too much for Nell to
comprehend, and once again, she runs away, only this time she finds herself in
the twenty-first century. When she comes face to face with a broken family, she
discovers that many of their underlying problems are the result of her actions
from her visit to the 1960s. Where love flourishes it has the means of finding
a way, seemingly allowing Mr Buchannan to travel to this era to be with her.
When he finally meets up with Nell he
sets the record straight, leading to a night of passion under the watchful eye
of the stars. Wanting to be together but unable to settle in the twenty-first
century, they decide to travel home. When they return to the year 1813, a
paradox is created-
Nell sighed as she entered the little girl’s bedchamber. The crisp cotton
bedcovers were crumpled and misplaced from their usual perfection. Her long
strands of chestnut hair, an interwoven decorative remembrance, lay across the
pillowcases. The darkened room and its melancholic mood were now aglow as a
powdery light filtered between an opening in the drapes, eerie in appearance.
To her it looked as though minute crystals hung in a display of elegance.
Abigale was now a mere
memory, though one held ardently within the fabric of Nell’s heart. The empty
room, once filled with happiness and hours of laughter, was now an empty shroud
of yesterdays gone by.
Nell ruched up the
coarse material of her skirt between her fingers and knelt down, her knees
instantly chilled by the stone hearth as she warmed herself before the open
coals. She felt angered, for the winter months had been particularly harsh this
year. Cruel, she thought to herself.
She gave a sideways
glance and from the corner of her eye caught sight of winter’s first
snowflakes. Abigale adored the snow, and had done from a very early age.
Remembering that time, a shiver ran the length of Nell’s spine. Letting out a
despondent sigh, she rose to her feet and straightened her clothing. It was a
bittersweet emotion that surged inside her. In the next few days she would be
leaving her post of governess and the life she had known for the past five
years. She was touched by a pang of nostalgia as her eyes caught the black
crepe band she wore around her arm in mourning for her ward. She paused
momentarily to reminisce.
Abigale had been such a
bright, pleasurable child to teach, her art in needlecraft commendable. It was
such a pity that she had been a sickly soul, and from birth, Nell had been
told.
With Christmas just over
a month away, she was saddened by the realisation that Abigale would not be
here to share this year’s festivities. Nell had spent many hours preparing her
gift, but the embroidery would remain incomplete on the petite bodice of the
dress, and now the garment lay with no purpose. She could envisage Abigale
wearing it, the pretty little girl with a ribbon tied in her hair running
towards her. Nell could still recall the pallor of her skin, like the virgin
snowflake; it was long ago that the kiss of a rose had left her cheeks. The
bitter weather had served Abigale no favours; her chest was her overriding
weakness, and pneumonia her downfall. Even when the end was nigh and breaths were
hard to take, she was still able to offer Nell a paper-thin smile as she sat
holding her hand and watched her fade away. Words were not needed, for she knew
how much she was loved.
Her mourning brought
with it a cold reality that broke through the silence. How she would miss that
beautiful girl, snatched from life so cruelly at only twelve years of age.
Nell meandered towards
the window, and lifting her arm slightly pushed aside the heavy velvet drapes,
allowing in more light which danced around the walls of the bedchamber,
illuminating the bold wooden panelling and turning the numerous tapestries into
a rich display of artistry.
She folded her arms
neatly across her chest, pulling in her petite frame. A heavy sigh passed
between her lips as she cast her gaze far out across the fifty-acre gardens. A
three-tiered landscape opened up before her. Her eyes embraced an open fan of
evergreens, their branches kissed by the frost, leaving only the briefest of
imprints. Sporadic stepping stones weaved their way from one tier to the next,
and a small stream appeared to join their divide where snowflakes fell, their
individuality lost forever. Its dramatic incline gave the extensive gardens an
illusion of endlessness.
Nell was overwhelmed by
a sudden feeling of freedom. After all the heartache, how she relished the
thought of what a new beginning would bring. Perhaps she would find employment
as a teacher, a path she found to be most agreeable. In her opinion she needed
a change; her role of governess was all played out. The position had brought
with it much isolation; she was shunned by the servants, and not valued by her
employers, so she found herself to be neither fish nor fowl in the estate. She
was a middle-class lady, for all intents and purposes, and it was only due to
her parents’ lack of wealth that she had to seek employment; but this had
prevented her from being considered an equal alongside that echelon.
A warm glow inside
ignited her imagination, throwing her into a fictional world where words, lines
and chapters from the countless books she had read came to life, filling her
mind with hope. How different her life could be if she were to become a leading
lady in one of the novels she had read, how her dreams could lift her from the
monotony of the life she led. The picture she painted in her mind was herself
as a beautiful butterfly — a red admiral — hovering high above the world,
visiting flower gardens. She had no intention of outstaying her welcome, or
forming liaisons, remaining just long enough for her beauty to be admired, for
the briefest of moments, for then once again she would be free, at one with
herself and with nature. It was so very different from the constraints of
Haunchcroft, where the walls held her deep within. It was only Abigale’s
presence that had given the walls a warmth, allowing her to feel able to live
happily inside.
Nell snapped out of her
daydreams as footsteps entered the bedchamber, and she listened as they echoed
over the polished wooden floorboards. The reflections of the frosted gardens
were lost in an instant as her master stole up from behind. He was now the
reflection staring back at her.
“Mr Buchannan, you
startled me.” Nell breathed heavily.
A trickle of
condensation decorated the glass pane as Nell did her best to compose herself.
She did not turn to greet him, her backward stance hiding her unease.
“You rise early, sir,”
she stuttered, choking out her words.
Although she had seen
the gentleman at various times around the estate, she was not overly familiar
with Abigale’s father, and whenever their paths crossed she felt uncomfortable
in his presence. She took a breath, allowing her the courage to speak.
“I would just like to
take the time to express how very sorry I am for your loss.”
There was an awkward
silence as Nell’s eyes traced his reflection through the partially frozen
windowpane; his facial outline looked angular through the icy glass, giving his
distorted features a stern, unapproachable look.
Turning slightly, Nell
said, “You will no longer be requiring my services.” Exhaling, she continued,
“I shall send word to my father, who will arrange for my transportation home.
All I ask is if you could possibly supply me with a reference?”
“That will not be
necessary; my family do not wish you to leave.”
Nell was thrown off
guard by his response.
“You see, Miss
Dodsworth, my niece has outgrown her nanny, and my sister is seeking a
governess as we speak. You need not worry your father; I assume that his parish
requires his undivided attention. If you are agreeable to my sister’s offer,
then I will provide your transportation to her home in Gloucestershire; your
reference to her will be my word.”
“Thank you kindly, but
since your daughter’s death, I have had a change of heart.” Nell could feel a
pain rise within, and hurriedly blinked back her tears. “I cannot possibly put
myself in the position to grow as close to, and to love another child as I came
to love dear Abby.”
“My sister will be most
displeased, for you know not how I have sung your praises. Please do not be
hasty in your decision, and allow me to arrange a formal introduction. I have
it on good authority that Catherine will be arriving in the coming weeks.”
“Sir…”
She paused, his fallen
face showing the non-appreciation of her reply.
“Have I offended you,
sir?” she enquired, looking up sheepishly, for eye contact with Mr Buchannan
felt so demeaning.
Nell could not help but
notice the confusion etched on his face, the rise of his dark brow. How much
softer his features appeared in close proximity. Mr Buchannan was in his early
thirties, a good few years her senior. A peppering of light auburn streaks
highlighted his sideburns and deep-brown hair. She could feel his eyes as they
penetrated her own, and their softness ebbed. His eyes were like dark pools of
the most unusual colour, a gunmetal grey, deep set, cold and unfeeling. She
held his gaze, difficult though it was. A silence fell, broken only by the
constant tapping of Mr Buchannan’s shoe on the floorboards.
“No, my dear,” he said
abruptly, taking a step forwards. “I find it hard to comprehend that such a
handsome creature as yourself could be no more than a mere governess.”
Nell frowned; she felt
his words to be both belittling and complimentary, if that were possible. His
tone was harsh, and it held an annoyance that she was unable to read. His
offhandedness forced her to lower her eyes, immediately returning her to her
station. If anyone was capable of making her feel subservient, it was Mr
Buchannan, and he had managed to do just that with one short sentence. Her eyes
rose as she felt his hand brush against her face. She flinched at the feel of
his smooth skin against her own.
“Sir!” Blushing, she
gasped as his hand swept along her cheek, his index finger coming to rest
softly upon her lips.
“You, madam, are my
weakness. Believe me when I say that I did not seek you out, you just happened
upon me.” His eyes widened. “You have not the slightest idea how I have tried
to fight my desires long and hard, but I have to admit defeat; I have succumbed
to your charms.” His words faltered as he continued. “I … I find you
uncommonly…” With a shake of his head he corrected himself. “No, my dear, I
find you disturbingly beautiful.”
AUTHOR BIO –
J&L WELLS
Laura Wells is a swimming teacher, with a love of books,
animals and, of course, Jane Austen. Once a national swimmer, she now runs
three swim schools of her own. She enjoys spending her spare time with her
family and two mad Shiba Inus. She lives in Staffordshire, England.
Judy Wells works at a school; in her spare time she enjoys
writing poetry and novels, and spending time with her animals. She also lives
in Staffordshire, England.
Laura and Judy are a mother and daughter duo; with Judy's
love of poetry and writing and Laura's ideas, they work extremely well
together. Time-travel and historical romance novels are their passion, and they
hope that after you have read their books, you will feel the same.
Our website is: www.jandlwells.com
Why not come and say hello to us on Facebook - J & L
Wells -
and have a look at our novels on Goodreads:
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