Summerset Abbey Read Online Free PDF

the hollow, tight feeling that meant she was about to lose her breath completely. She gasped, fighting for air. The black spots knitted together, becoming a tunnel, and she knew she would faint if she couldn’t get a breath of air soon. Katie backed her up against the brick wall of a millinery shop and she leaned against it gratefully. She pressed her lips together and counted, one, two, three, and took a little breath.
    “Miss! Do you need your nebulizer, miss?”
    Victoria heard Katie’s panicked voice as if it were traveling from a great distance. She shook her head and continued counting. One, two, three, little breaths. One, two, three . . . bit by bit her pulse slowed and her chest opened.
    “Is everything all right, miss? Is this girl bothering you?” A man dressed in a posh flannel jacket and waistcoat hastily approached them.
    Victoria’s eyes flew open, aghast at the man’s assumption that Katie, in her worn woolen uniform, was accosting her. “Certainly not. Mind your own business,” she gasped. “How dare you make such presumptions based on our attire. You should be ashamed of yourself!”
    The man’s eyes widened as he tipped his bowler and backed away.
    “Are you all right now? Was it something I said, miss?”
    Victoria shook her head. “No. Of course not. It was just . . . just an episode . The same as always.” Though her new doctor called her an asthmatic, Victoria hated the word “asthma” and refused to use it or any variation of it. It sounded so . . . sickly.
    Katie’s face scrunched up, but she said nothing as she helped Victoria stand upright and they began walking slowly down the street.
    Victoria’s fingers and toes tingled and she wasn’t sure if it was the aftereffects of her experience or the anger building at her core.
    So that was what Rowena was hiding from her. They were selling her home! Their lovely house with its countless windows, bright, clean lines, and years of treasured memories. How could Rowena let it happen?
    *   *   *
    Prudence kept her eyes closed. Each little jolt of the carriage grated against both her bones and her nerves. When they had started out yesterday, she’d felt a stirring of excitement underlying the grief that still lingered on her skin like a film of powder. But that had been early in the day, before the endless green fields and autumn-lit trees had lost their novelty. By the time they’d stopped at the inn in Bedford last night, she’d been stiff and more than a little sore. Now every muscle screamed at her enforced confinement. She wished they’d waited to come down until the next week, when the driver would be delivering Sir Philip’s new motorcar to Summerset, but the Earl had insisted on a traditional funeral procession. He rode in the carriage in front of them, while the black mahogany coach carrying Sir Philip’s coffin led the way.
    Often, when they met a motorcar, the coaches had to stop to settle the horses, which made her want to scream. It felt as if they’d never reach Summerset.
    Rowena and Victoria had barely said two words to each other since their quarrel the other day. Victoria had been in such a huff, she’d had to be put on the nebulizer on and off for the rest of that afternoon. For Prudence, the sulky silence between the sisters made the never-ending ride even more unbearable.
    Her mind still reeled from the revelation that Rowena’s uncle was going to sell their home. Rowena promised she wouldn’t let it happen. Prudence had no idea what she could do to stop it, but she had to trust Rowena.
    Next to her Victoria stretched. “How long now, Ro?” Her voice sounded contrite and Rowena answered in kind.
    “It shouldn’t be too long. Look, we’re going past the kissing mill.”
    “Why do you call it that?” Prudence asked as both she and Victoria craned their heads to look out the carriage window.
    “The locals have a legend that if you ask your girl to marry you by the water wheel, she can’t say