Daughter of the House: A Novel
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Bestselling author and two-time winner of the Romantic Novel of the Year Award Rosie Thomas delivers yet again with the captivating story of Nancy Wix in Daughter of the House
In Daughter of the House, Rosie Thomas, "a master storyteller" (Cosmopolitan) returns to the marvelous Wix family.
Nancy Wix, daughter of the stage impresarios Eliza and Devil, must find a way to keep London’s Palmyra theatre afloat, and to entertain audiences who have lost husbands and sons in the first World War. Nancy is a born performer, but she is set apart―even from her beloved brothers―by her psychic gifts. She must harness her troubling powers to keep her family and the theatre intact.
It is a dangerous path and a lonely one, but Nancy’s bold choices lead her to love, and beyond that to the recognition of what it takes to become a modern woman. As another war begins to threaten the world, she is forced into a final, fateful confrontation with her demons, and must marshal both her ingenuity and her mysterious talents to fight for the survival of friendship, independence, and family.
directly at her. ‘I am sorry for what happened to you at my camp.’ ‘Did you intend it?’ ‘That you should be half-blinded? No, I did not. Please, won’t you sit?’ Two chairs were drawn up to a table covered with a greasy oilcloth. It was a long way from the opulent Victorian rooms overlooking Gower Street. She sat down and placed her hands flat on the cloth. He asked in a low voice, ‘Why have you come here?’ ‘I want you to tell me what happened that night and before it. You sent that little
Cornelius mumbled to Nancy. ‘Urchins?’ Arthur stood with his back to the fireplace, out of uniform today but always with the impression of red-tabbed khaki about him. He was now a major, working in a capacity that could never be discussed and which involved prolonged absences overseas. ‘It’s quite a tribute to you, Pa, that Arthur’s with us today and not riding his camel in the Empty Quarter.’ Bella was a little plumper, which suited her. She was an excellent army wife. ‘Don’t listen to her,’
nothing so exotic to tell.’ Nancy had never thought of her background as anything of the kind, and the notion was surprising. All in all Gil Maitland was a surprising person. ‘I am just a businessman,’ he added. ‘No, that’s not fair. You let me babble on for ages so you should tell me your story in return.’ Was she being rude? Nancy wasn’t sure. She just wanted to go on sitting here, looking at him and talking. There was the cleft in the cheek again. ‘I am afraid of boring you. What would
although the war itself was becoming an unpopular memory the men who had fought it were admired everywhere. She felt a tick of fear for Arthur. ‘Don’t get hurt, will you?’ she begged, made vocal by the whisky. Arthur didn’t respond directly. ‘Do you remember that night at Aunt Faith’s, before I went to school?’ ‘I was just thinking about it.’ ‘Were you really? Rowland and Edwin are so often in my mind.’ Abbreviated young lives were familiar to Arthur and he moved smoothly on. ‘And the Schools
interfere. The parlour was not an inviting place, but she did what she could to make it look homely. When she was straightening the cushion on her mother’s chair her fingers encountered something smooth tucked out of sight between the seat and the arm. It was a small brown phial, empty, of the sort that had held Eliza’s medicine long ago when she was recovering from influenza. Nancy stared at it, wondering why an empty bottle had found its way from Islington to Waterloo Street. She put it in her