Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
With a wife he loves and an exciting London-based career, architect Charles Waterston's life seems in perfect balance. Nothing in his comfortable existence prepares him for the sudden end to his ten-year marriage—or his unwanted transfer to his firm's New York office. With nothing left to lose, Charlie takes a leave of absence from his job to drive through New England, hoping to make peace with himself.
Christmas is approaching when Charlie leaves New York, heading to Vermont to ski. But a sudden, blinding snowstorm strands him in a small Massachusetts town. There, as if by chance, Charlie meets an elderly widow who offers to rent him her most precious possession: a remote, exquisite lakeside chateau. Hidden deep in the woods, it once belonged to a woman who lived and died there two centuries before. Her name was Sarah Ferguson. And from the moment Charlie sets foot inside the chateau's graceful depths, he feels her presence, and longs to know more about the life she led.
It is Christmas Eve when Charlie first glimpses her, a beautiful young woman with jet black hair. He thinks it is a neighbor playing a joke on him, until he finds her diaries hidden away in an old trunk. As he begins to turn the brittle, dusty pages, Sarah Ferguson comes alive. Intrigued and unafraid, Charlie immerses himself in the diaries, eager to learn more about the woman for whom the house was built. Sarah's first entry is dated 1789, the year she arrived in America. Without self-pity or sentiment, she writes of her harrowing journey from her native England, having fled the brutality of her aristocratic husband. Settling in Massachusetts, Sarah finds an unfamiliar land seething with the turbulence of the Indian wars. Determined to start a new life in the vast new world, Sarah finds freedom—and danger—as she builds her home in the wilderness and meets a man who will transform her life. His name is François de Pellerin, a French nobleman adopted by Indians and drawn into the battle for the growing nation. Their fateful union is a testament to a love so powerful it reaches across the centuries. And for Charlie Waterston, caught between Sarah's world and his own, their story is a gift—one that gives him the courage to let go of his past, and the freedom to grasp a future that is right before his eyes.
back to her, and he was grinning broadly, but she scolded him when he dismounted. “That was very foolish of you. What if he’d had a gun? He would have shot you!” “I’d have killed him,” François said bluntly. “His guide said he came to do something bad to you, but he didn’t know exactly what. I hope he didn’t have the chance.” He looked concerned. “I’m sorry I didn’t get home sooner.” “It’s just as well you didn’t,” she said with a smile, still somewhat amused at his performance. It had been
spent a month in the south of France. She said her dad was a sportscaster on TV, and he was very famous. “Do you look like him?” Charlie asked casually, admiring the soft gold curls and the big blue eyes, as he had since they met that morning. “My mom says I do.” But he suspected that that also made her mother unhappy. If he was an Olympic ski champion and a sportscaster, and had a girlfriend named Marie-Lise, there was always the possibility that Monique’s mother had gotten a bum deal, or
blanketing everything. He loved watching it, and sat for hours in his den, which had been Sarah’s boudoir, reading and glancing up from time to time to see the snow still falling outside. He thought of the little girl he had met in Charlemont, and her life with the mother who was at the same time so angry and so sad. He would have liked to see the child again, but it was obvious that he and her mother were not destined to be bosom companions. And as he thought of her, he remembered the two books
fingers. It was amazing that he had so much strength after having been so deeply unconscious. She imagined that his wickedness must fuel it. “No one wishes you any ill, Edward,” she said, lowering her eyes as he released her, and then she moved slowly to the door, on the pretext of getting him some gruel for breakfast. “I won’t get my strength back on that slop,” he complained, but from what she could see, and had just felt, he had regained quite enough strength already to suit her. “I’ll see
left Falmouth for the new world. He closed the journal carefully, looking at it as the precious thing that it was. He felt as though he were sharing a remarkable secret, and as he went upstairs to her room, he longed to see her. He knew so much more about her now, knew who she was, where she had been. He could only imagine what the trip over on the ship had been like. He was tempted to stay up all night and read about it, but he knew he had to get some sleep before morning. He lay in bed that