Whisper Always PDF
Preview Whisper Always
DEAR READER, I remember the day I discovered the Hapsburgs. After reading all of Mary Stewart's, Victoria Holt's, Phillippa Carr's, and Catherine Gaskin's books I discovered Evelyn Anthony. I was searching the stacks of the public library for more of her wonderful romantic suspense when I came across a book that changed my life. That book, The Archduke by Michael Arnold, was a historical novel written in the form of a diary kept by Crown Prince Rudolf of Austria- Hungary during the last year of his life, documenting the events leading to the tragedy at Mayerling. I was ten years old and that wonderful discovery was the start of my lifelong romance with Rudolf and all things Hapsburg. I read everything I could find on the Hapsburgs, especially Rudolf and his parents, Emperor Franz Josef and Empress Elisabeth. But the Austro-Hungarian Empire was a distant memory and reading material was hard to come by. I persisted, learning to painstakingly translate German and French word for word with French-English and German- English dictionaries because the only material on the Hapsburgs I hadn't read hadn't been translated into English. Three years after college graduation and marriage, I pulled out a notebook and began to write one. My first romance novel, Whisper Always, was born. I've written five other romance novels since I wrote Whisper Always --all set in the American West during the 1870s and I sold all five of them before I sold Whisper Always. I built a reputation as an Americana writer, but I never forgot my love for the Hapsburgs or European royalty and history. My fascination with the Hapsburgs and my writing of Whisper Always made my American books possible. And now it's enabling me to tell the stories I want to tell--stories that take place in other times and settings on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean. In Whisper Always, I wanted to tell the story of a man and a woman who fell in love and made mistakes in and unforgiving society. I wanted Rudolf to be part of that story because history has always regarded him as weak instead of a world- weary and disillusioned crown prince forced to wait until his father's death in order to do the job he'd been born to do. I wanted to show the human side of the crown prince. I used Rudolf to bring my hero and heroine together and he provided the opportunity for them to risk everything for love and to learn how to trust. I like to think that had they actually lived, Blake and Cristina would have trust. I like to think that had they actually lived, Blake and Cristina would have done the same for him. Had he lived, Rudolf would have ascended the throne in 1916 at the age of fifty- eight, and World Wars I and II might have been avoided. Rudolf's misfortune was to be heir to an absolute monarch who lived to be eighty-six and whose reign lasted sixty-eight years. Rudolf tired of the wait on January 30, 1889, at the age of thirty. A small portrait of Rudolf sits on my desk and looks down on me as I write this. I hope Whisper Always has treated him fairly. He wasn't much for displays of sentimentality, but I think he would have liked Blake and Cristina and enjoyed the role he played in bringing them together. I hope you do, too. REBECCA HAGAN LEE June 1999 Titles by Rebecca Hagan Lee SOMETHING BORROWED GOSSAMER WHISPER ALWAYS WHISPER ALWAYS Rebecca Hagan Lee JOVE BOOKS. NEW YORK ISBN: 0-515-12712-4 Copyright (c) 1999 by Rebecca Hagan Lee. For enduring and understanding my lifelong obsession with the Hapsburgs, for taking me to see the Lipizzaners every time they're touring nearby, and for watching Mayerling over and over again without complaint. For always believing I could do it and for making it possible, I dedicate this book to you, Steve. With love. Part One Avarice, ambition, lust, etc., are nothing but species of madness. --BENEDICT [BARUCH] DE SPINOZA 1632-1677 --BENEDICT [BARUCH] DE SPINOZA 1632-1677 Prologue Winter 1854 Everleigh, Sussex, England The black-haired waif huddled closer inside the blanket, staring out the window of her bedroom at the shimmering gabled roof and chimneys of the magnificent country house across the way. She often sat there in the early morning hours, dreaming of the day when she would live at Willow Wood. She hadn't yet worked out the way she intended to catch the eye of the heir to Willow Wood, but she would. She must. It wasn't enough to be the daughter of a country squire, she had to be something--someone--more. She moved back from the window so she could see her face reflected in the glass. At ten years of age, she already showed the promise of great beauty. A beauty she didn't intend to see wasted on a farmer or the son of a squire or any of the lower branches of the aristocracy. She was destined for greater things. One day she would be the marchioness of Everleigh. And her beauty would be her most valuable tool. She tightened her grip on the blanket. She shivered in the chilly air, but that couldn't be helped. Her bedroom was freezing cold in the winter and suffocatingly hot in the summer. Her father strutted around the village, pretending to be a powerful man, a force with whom to be reckoned in the district, but she knew better. Her father was a mere country squire. A country squire with a pitifully small income. Lord Everleigh was the real power. Everleigh, whose only son was a couple of years her elder. Everleigh, who had given refuge to his younger brother's widow and his nephew. She watched them from her perch in the window, watched as the two boys raced across the fields on finely bred horseflesh. She'd already met the nephew and begun weaving her spell around him. But at ten, she hadn't yet learned enough to control him. That's why she often sneaked out of her bedroom and carefully spied on the occupants of the room across the hall where her governess entertained her father occupants of the room across the hall where her governess entertained her father every Thursday night. It thrilled her to watch and listen as plain Miss Franklin wheedled and cajoled her father into submission. He might rule the other rooms of the house with a beefy fist and a leather strap, but her father was just a quivering mass of groans, grunts, and sighs in the bedroom across the hall. And the fact that he surrendered his will to a governess every Thursday night gave her hope. She could see all the opportunities, the possibilities out of such weakness. There was sweet satisfaction in knowing her father could be so easily controlled. And if her father could be controlled, so could other men--richer men, more powerful men. She stared at the boys. One day, she promised herself--one day she would have everything they had. One day she would own them both. She simply had to bide her time and watch and learn. Manipulation was the way of the world. The strong manipulated the weak. She was strong and she intended to do more with her life. She had no intention of being meek and mild like her mother, turning the other cheek while her husband fornicated with the governess beneath her very nose, or of bowing and scraping to ladies of the peerage. Her aspirations went far beyond that. She intended to rule. And she was willing to hide in the wardrobe in a cold, dark bedroom every Thursday night to learn the necessary talents that would give her power over men. She had already learned a great deal, and she regularly practiced what she'd learned on Everleigh's nephew. Every day Jack surrendered more of his will to her. Eventually his cousin would, too. She thrived on the thrill, the exquisite power of conquest. If the heart of a man is depress'd with cares The mist is dispelled when a woman appears. --JOHN GAY 1685-1732 Chapter One
The list of books you might like
