The Rail Specter by Vennessa Robertson (Arcane Adventuress #3)
English | 2019 | Fantasy | ePUB | 606 Kb
The Rail Specter : Into the American West, 1901. Queen Victoria is dead and all of Britain, even the land, is mourning.
Now married a year, Vivian Valentine and her canithrope husband, Nate, seem cursed and their historically prosperous estate fails to keep their tenants fed. In order to provide for the people who look to them for protection, something must be done.
Vivian and Nate set off for America to oversee a troubled investment in the railroad. But in this beautiful, wild land of opportunity they also find terrible darkness and signs of an old enemy thought long defeated.
Vivian and Nate will need all of their abilities, mundane and supernatural, to fight man and magic alike as they head down a path no living being is meant to travel. Will their love be able to withstand another harrowing battle against evil men and magic?
“Please,” I repeated, motioning. The collar of his suit was wet from the rain. His wife curtsied quickly, then sat on the corner of our sofa as though she did not want to dirty it. Her braided hair had been carefully tucked up under her cap. They wore their Sunday best.
Helen brought in a tea tray with milk from our cow and small ginger biscuits. It was far from a grand treat, but the least I could offer, given the circumstances. They were chilled to the bone.
Papa came in and muffled a cough in his handkerchief. “Excuse me. I was in the conservatory. It took me a moment longer than I thought.”
“Sir.” Mr. Goslan bobbed his head nervously and cleared his throat.
“How can I help you today?” I poured four cups of tea and served everyone a ginger biscuit. I usually let Helen serve, but I needed something to do with my hands.
“Well, you see, it’s like this—” Mr. Goslan trailed off then flushed, worrying his hat again. “We owe on our rent.” He looked up at me nervously. “And I know we owe,” he added quickly.
“We plan to pay,” Mrs. Goslan interjected.
“We just need a little more time to pay the full quarter‘s rent,” Mr. Goslan said quickly. “We have part of it.” He dug into his pocket for a few coins. “Coal has been so expensive, and we’ve had no money for meat. We eat what our garden provides.”
The front door opened and Hiram hurried from his corner of the solar to attend to the master of the house’s needs. A moment later, Nate strode into the solar, clomping in wet boots, rubbing a linen towel through his hair. His collar was soaked, and he had already exchanged his waistcoat for a dry one as Hiram had been ready with fresh clothing.”