By Margaret Frazer
Don't be discouraged through a complicated hawk-hunting scene introducing various characters before everything of Frazer's 14th Dame Frevisse secret (after 2004's The Hunter's Tale), simply because what follows is a delicate and soaking up saga of conspiracy and treachery in 15th-century England. In 1449, landowner Edward Helyngton lies on his deathbed whereas his jealous cousin Laurence waits raptor-like to swoop down and grab his property. quickly after Edward's dying, his widow, Cristiana, is banished to St. Frideswide's nunnery, the place she's compelled to do penance face down at the chilly chapel flooring for unspecified sins alleged by way of Laurence's brokers. dwelling on bread and water, the embittered Cristiana ultimately tells her unhappy story to Dame Frevisse, who's first and foremost just a sympathetic listener, yet later takes a extra energetic sleuthing function. A tantalizing mystery confided to Cristiana through her death husband seems to have attractive political implications. The suspense builds progressively towards a trip from King Henry VI during this well-wrought story related to homicide, treason and "layers of ambition and betrayal." FYI: A two-time Edgar nominee, Frazer is usually the writer of A Play of Isaac (2004), the 1st in a brand new medieval secret sequence. "Margaret Frazer" is the pseudonym of Gail Frazer, who collaborated with Mary Pulver Kuhfeld at the first six books within the sequence.
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Extra resources for The Widow's Tale (Sister Frevisse, Book 14)
The men's long coats were of heavy wool, and their caps almost covered their faces. Christina's dress came to her knees, and her bonnet was dark and plain. The unsettled looks on their faces revealed who they were: strangers in a strange land, uncertain but hopeful. Carl noticed many types of boats along East Riverbarges, ferries, steamships, sailing ships. Tall, narrow smokestacks, like black trees, rose from the vessels. The guide pointed in one direction. "Broadway is that way. It is the widest street in New York City and maybe the whole country," he said proudly.
It's a five mile walk from here. But you're strong. You can walk," Papa said as he lit his pipe and rubbed a finger across his forehead as if to erase the worry lines. " Carl could not look at Papa. Instead, he stared at the roaring fire, feeling the heat on his face and body. Yes, other boys his age worked. But he had hoped to attend school until he turned sixteen. Mama walked in at that moment, her wool hat pulled over her forehead, her face red and chapped from the cold. Carl remembered, not too many years ago, when everyone thought she was pretty.
The brothers hugged each other for a brief moment, then parted, each going his separate way. Carl fell asleep as soon as he got in bed. He was still sleeping soundly when his mother's voice awakened him. "It's time to get up," she said softly. He sat up with a start, wondering how it could already be morning. Then he remembered what an important day this was, maybe the most important day of his life. He Page 19 brushed his thick blonde hair from his face, then he dressed for the journey. In the kitchen, Carl ate limpa with white cheese.