Hey there happy reader,
I’m currently on the west coast, visiting my older grandson (oh yes – my son and daughter-in-law live here too, lol!) and it’s a wonderful respite from the cold temperatures in New York.
It does always seem, however, that when I come to California, it rains! Not that I’m complaining. They absolutely need rain here to prevent the kind of fires that leveled Altadena last winter. But I’m holding out for a little bit of sunshine during my stay…
My older grandson turns three on Monday.
He loves airplanes, so we’re spending the day on Saturday at a small, regional airport so that he and some of his friends can watch the planes land and take off. It’s amazing the things that toddlers like to do. As an adult, I dread the airport and the expectation that it will be a crowded, germ-filled, chaotic mess. Children have a much better way of looking at life…
This is the book that is being read on repeat while I’m here. We’re all about big trucks and airplanes right now!
Valentine’s Day is Saturday, so I thought that it might be nice to share a little excerpt from my work-in-progress, “From Below the Horizon,” with you!
As you know, this book moves forward and backward in time. The following piece focuses on our modern-day protagonist, Miriam, and her search for the truth about the people of Stonehenge.
She’s studying at Oxford, trying to establish a link between some of the jewelry found at the site and the women who lived there centuries ago. She’s met a man – a professor – who is linked to the history of the University and has offered her access to a private library filled with rarely viewed papers, stored there for academic research…
Watching Spencer approach, Miriam couldn’t imagine that he could look more like a British college professor. He was wearing thick brown corduroy slacks, a tweed blazer with an open collared, starched white shirt and an oversized Burberry raincoat. She felt severely undressed in her simple black leggings and bulky grey cable-knit sweater, but she didn’t come here to win any fashion awards. As he approached, he smiled broadly.
“How’s the head this morning, Miriam? Feeling well, I hope?”
“If you’re asking if I’m hung over, the answer is no. I was drinking tonic water, remember. I’m not sure how you and your friends did this morning, however.”
“Well, there’s always tonight for you to try that G and T,” he said with a wink.
“There’ll be no tonight if I don’t get some work done today,” she said in a serious tone. “Now, what’s this ‘secret’ library you were telling me about?”
“Secret? I never said it was a secret. I said it was private. You need a key to gain entrance.”
“Can I see your key?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he smirked, causing a blush to rise across her cheeks.
The way he replied sounded more intimate than she expected and she hadn’t been prepared for it. Get a grip, would you please? she admonished herself. She watched as he reached into the front pocket of his pants and pulled out what looked like an ancient gold key. It was longer than a modern key, with an ornate head of swirls of gold, tapering down to what looked like two weird hooks on the bottom.
“That’s unique,” she quipped. “How many of those are there?”
“A few dozen, I suppose. No matter, though. We have this one, and that’s all we need. Let’s carry on.” He put his hand on the small of her back to guide her further down the path and even through her thick sweater, it heated the skin beneath. It made her feel both uncomfortable and turned on all at the same time.
At the main library steps, he stopped. “By the way,” he said. “If the librarian asks, just say you’re my fiancé. This section of the building that I taking you to is off limits to the public.”
Her eyes widened. “Your fiancé? That’s a stretch.”
“Do you want to see these old books or not?” he asked.
She nodded her head. “Fine. But if she asks when we’re getting married, please do me a favor and tell her we haven’t set a date. I don’t want to feel pressured to walk down the aisle just yet.”
“Oh, so you do have a sense of humor,” he smiled. “I was beginning to think that you were a humorless Manhattanite.”
“I am. I have a deadline, and it can’t be moved. My entire future career depends on me proving this theory I have about Stonehenge. I know that I’m right, that women had an enormous role in that place. I just have to figure out what it was.”
“Oh, so then, an easy task then, right?” he asked sarcastically. “I mean, just because you think it, doesn’t make it true.”
“Alright, if you’re so smart, tell me why recent digs at the site have turned up so many ornate pieces of jewelry. Why would ordinary women own elaborate gemstones?”
“Are you truly basing your entire dissertation argument on the discovery of some jewelry? Please tell me you have more. Here at Oxford the committee would rip you to shreds with that flimsy theory.”
“No, I’m hoping to find more,” she said, her anxiety rising. “That’s why we’re here.”
“Right.” He raised an eyebrow as if to question whether they were wasting their time or not. “Let’s go.”
They continued to climb the stairs, but his doubt was gnawing at her. She really didn’t have much to go on, and she did have a lot to prove. She shook her head as if to clear it of the panic that was beginning to rise. C’mon, Miriam, the voice inside her head said in a shaky voice. You’ve got this. She repeated those words over again in her mind as he led her through the main reading room, with its elaborately carved deep wood bookcases lined with titles, some stamped in gold leaf, to a wrought iron spiral staircase off to one side down an aisle. They stopped in front of an archway with a heavy door at its center. He lifted the key and fit it inside the lock, then turned the handle. With the sound of a latch being undone, Spencer opened the door, leading her into a world that time had seemed to ignore.
The first thing Miriam noticed was the smell; it was a combination of musty paper and worn leather. The entrance was dim, but as her eyes adjusted, she could see an older woman, hair in an elaborate bun on the top of her head, sitting at a large desk in the center of the space. As they approached, she looked up from whatever it was she was reading, removed her cat-eyed shaped glasses and smiled at Spencer.
“Why Mr. Aldworth. I haven’t seen you here in quite some time. How can I help you today?”
“Well, Mrs. Brighamton, I’m here with my fiancé, Miriam. She’s from America, teaching here for Michaelmas and researching the origins of Stonehenge. I was hoping you’d extend her the courtesy of using this section of the library while she’s visiting with us.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged, Mr. Aldworth, if you’ll be bringing her by. You know that the key is not transferrable, I’m sure.”
“Of course. I’ll be with her when she’s working.”
Miriam stared at him. She didn’t need a study buddy. And it was too much of a time commitment to expect that he’d accompany her to this place for hours on end. “Oh,” she began. “Thank you, Mrs. Brighamton, but would it be alright if I came in on my own. I don’t want Spencer to have to give up his free time to sit with me.”
The older woman looked at Miriam, as if she was deciding if the American was a security risk. “Well, if he lets you in, I might be able to look the other way if you’re quiet and tidy. And no food in here. It’s a strict policy.”
Miriam nodded, even though she noticed a cup of steaming tea on the woman’s desk. “I promise to be respectful of the materials I use. You won’t have any trouble from me.”
The librarian softened. “When’s the wedding?” she asked, as if she was going to note it on her personal calendar.
Miriam opened her mouth to reply when Spencer chimed in. “We’re looking at a few dates in May and June, Mrs. Brighamton. We’ll let you know once it’s set.”
The woman smiled at that news. “And do tell your father that he’s stayed away too long, Mr. Aldworth. I’d love to see him and catch up.”
“Of course. I will tell him.”
“There’s a quiet corner in the back. I suppose you should sit there, Miss…”
“Buckley. Miriam Buckley.” She put out her hand for the older woman to shake.
“It’s a pleasure,” Mrs. Brighamton said. “Any woman marrying Mr. Aldworth is welcome here. I’ve known his family for a long time. Ask if you need anything.”
Spencer placed his hand in Miriam’s and led her over to the table the librarian had indicated they should use. Once out of hearing distance, Miriam whispered, “May or June? What happened to not mentioning a date?”
He looked directly into her eyes and replied, “A man can dream, can’t he?”
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