Mara: A Georgian Romance
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
EPILOGUE
Mara
The SWEET & CLEAN ROMANCE edition of “Of Angels and Orphans”
By Barbara T. Cerny
Copyright © 2016 Barbara T. Cerny
Smashwords Edition
YA and teen reading material. Appropriate for ages ten through adult, male and female.
Thank you for downloading this eBook. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and didn’t purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.
What others are saying about this book:
Five-stars. Excellent story. Very well told. Really enjoyed it. Melinda Edgington.
Awesome. Five-stars. Read many, many books; never taken the time to write a review. This book was so amazing; 5 stars just didn’t do it justice. Noththereviewtype on iTunes.
Five-stars. I just want to hug the book. This book is amazing. I couldn’t stop reading it and it is a very good mind movie for me. It is one of the best books I have ever read. iTunes reviewer.
Five-stars. What a wonderful story and a wonderful story teller!!! I could read these books forever. And I will. Sunshinewoman83 on iTunes.
Five-stars... More than another romance. I’ve read 3 books by this author and although I rarely do this, I have to leave a review. All three books, Tress, Grays Hill, and now this one have wonderfully rich stories. This is not just another romance author. This is not your run-of-the-mill dime store novel. There is fullness and completeness in each book. The characters are endearing and believable and the plot lines are unique and fascinating. The love story between characters is developed beautifully. Simply wonderful writing. Timnanna on iTunes.
*****
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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Synopsis
A poor little rich girl meets a poor orphan boy and their friendship soars. Mara tells the romantic yet realistic tale of an overweight, neglected, posh young girl who befriends a poor, courageous orphan and his three friends.
Mara Markham is a lonely 10-year-old born into privilege. The granddaughter of a viscount, she is ridiculed by her spoiled and spiteful family. The unloved little girl seeks solace in the guise of food. In another part of London, Jacob Abbot, 13, lives a wretched life and is forced to steal food to survive. Living in squalid conditions at the local orphanage, he and three friends are rescued by Audra from their plight, and thus their adventure begins.
This story will appeal to readers of all ages, as it chronicles two lost souls trying to find their place in life, despite the tensions of poverty, neglect, and cruelty. This unique novel tells of two lovers from very different upbringings who are united by their individual struggles and discover an unbreakable bond.
Chapter 1
Jacob Abbot ran hard through the streets of London as fast as his legs would carry him. Just a few minutes earlier, he succeeded in stealing a melon from a street vendor, but the man spotted Jake as he made a hasty exit. He dropped the precious but heavy fruit in order to keep one step ahead of his pursuer.
Jake hated stealing food, but he and the other boys did it often. It was either steal or die of starvation. Not much of a choice. That bloody orphanage didn’t provide enough food to keep a mouse alive, let alone boys in the middle of growth spurts.
His orphan buddies, Luke Holloway, Alvin Bitters, and Pete Smithers, scouted out different food stands to rob. They were all to meet later with their contraband at their hideout under the back stairs of the brothel. It wasn’t the most desirable place for a hideout, but no one had ever discovered them there, so it served its purpose.
Jake, at thirteen, was the oldest of the four boys, and the ringleader of the small gang. His gangly long legs and too long arms told of a future as a tall man, if he ever made it to manhood. He already stood a half a head taller than the overbearing director of the orphanage, Sir Percy Snellings.
God, how Jake hated that man! Snellings was cruel, malicious, and repulsive—the last man on earth who should have been running an orphanage. He regularly beat the orphans and kept for himself most of the food donated by the queen’s kitchens.
Jake hadn’t always been an orphan. His parents, Charles and Gloria Abbot, had died five years earlier, in 1791, during an influenza epidemic that swept through London. Charles, the vicar of a small parish on the outskirts of London, had been tending to his congregation and contracted the horrible malady, bringing it home to his family. Gloria, Charles, and Jake’s little sister, Mary, all succumbed to the deadly disease, leaving eight-year-old Jake to fend for himself. Neighbors packed him off to the Queen’s Children’s Home immediately after his family’s burial in the small cemetery attached to the chapel, as no one in the borough could afford yet another mouth to feed.
From that moment, Jake’s life rapidly descended into hell. Snellings couldn’t stand Jake, for he was not a typical street urchin. The boy could read, write, and do rudimentary mathematics. He spoke with a softer accent, and used proper language. Snellings saw Jake as a threat, and went out of his way to make the boy’s life miserable.
So here Jake was, on the street, becoming that very street urchin, forced to steal to live, and now running for his freedom. He was so malnourished he couldn’t run as fast as he used to. He knew he had to hide, and soon. He turned the corner and
saw a high wall across the street with a border of bushes. There it was, the perfect hiding place—a break in the bushes, just large enough for him to squeeze through. He quickly dodged the horses and carriages and other pedestrians, hoping that zigzagging through them would hide his movements enough so he could reach the bushes unnoticed. Jake nearly crashed into a trotting horse, and received a tongue lashing from the rider. He paid no attention, as he ran headlong into the break in the bushes and crouched down behind the thick branches. A few seconds later he heard footsteps near his hiding place, and a man’s voice emitting curses.
“Where’d you go, you bloody little thief? You can’t get away from me!” Jake peered out through the thick leaves at a pair of filthy boots and brown pant legs. He held his breath, and tried not to make a sound.
Please go away. Move it, move it! he thought, as he drew a small slow breath and held it again. Go. Go. Go. GO!
After what seemed like an eternity, the man in the dirty boots moved back across the street and disappeared from sight. Jake took a deep breath, happy to have escaped capture and punishment this time. One of these days his luck would run out, and he would be caught.
Now that the danger had passed, Jake took a moment to examine his hiding place more closely. Looking up ahead, he saw that the bushes were far enough away from the wall that he could crawl on his hands and knees between them for quite a ways. He couldn’t stand up because the branches above him pressed up against the wall, but he was perfectly content to crawl along the ground to see what lay ahead.
He moved forward, praying for another break in the bushes, his hands and knees beginning to feel the pain of the rocks and dirt under them. The pain in his empty stomach was far worse, however, so he brushed aside the stinging in his palms. He’d probably ruin the knees of his britches, but they were already in sorry shape. He was about to turn back when he noticed a pile of rubble up ahead. Crawling a little faster, he came upon what looked like an old gate or entry way that had been poorly filled in, and part of it crumbled away.
After moving some of the rock debris out of the way, Jake found that the hole was just big enough for him to squeeze through. However, once through the hole, the boy found himself in the same predicament—smashed between the wall and another length of bushes, with only room to move near the roots. He sighed and continued to crawl, wondering where this would possibly lead him.
Chapter 2
The copse was very quiet on this fine spring day, as ten-year-old Mara Markham sat on the stone bench, reading. Her nanny, Cecilia, had sewn a pillow set for her many years ago to rest upon the stone and keep her comfortable as she read in her favorite spot. Mara read voraciously, much to her mother’s dismay. Lady Maureen, daughter of a baron and wife to Lord Evelyn Markham, wanted Mara to learn the genteel ways of a woman and keep her nose out of books. Fortunately, Mara did not have to endure her mother’s criticisms often, for Maureen paid more attention to Mara’s brothers, Edwin and Bertram, and left her daughter to her own devices. This pleased Mara to no end. She hated being around her family members, who always seemed to make her self-conscious about her extra-large size. She avoided them as much as possible, and hiding in the gardens suited her requirement just fine. Cecilia, who felt more like mother to the child, ensured that Mara had as many peaceful moments as possible away from the cruel taunts of her brothers and thoughtless comments from her parents.
This morning, however, a strange rustling in the bushes along the outer wall disturbed Mara’s reading. She peered through the trellis of clematis, and stared in the direction of the noise for a few moments. Suddenly, she saw a figure in the shadows moving on hands and knees through the underside of the brush. And not very quietly, either. It appeared to be a boy. He paused, moved a bit, paused, and then moved a bit again. He acted as if he listened to see if he could hear anyone the other side.
Surprised that someone would invade the garden, Mara quietly stood up and tiptoed around the end of the trellis, across the lawn, and toward the end of the bush line where she knew the intruder would eventually have to emerge. She waited, prepared to use the heavy book she carried as a weapon, if necessary.
Jake crawled almost to the end of the bushes when he noticed a pair of shoes and what looked like the hem of a yellow dress near the place he had planned to emerge. Blimey, he thought. Now what? Should he crawl back, or take his chances with the woman? He stopped and looked for more shoes, legs, hems, or other evidence of additional people he might have to face. Seeing none, he decided to take his chances. He popped out of the bushes, rolled forward, jumped up, and faced the woman with one hand cocked behind him, ready to strike.
Mara and Jake stared at each other in surprise. Jake never expected a fat little girl with the curliest red hair and greenest eyes he’d ever seen, holding a book over her shoulder, ready to hit him back.
Mara never expected a tall, dirty, emaciated boy with long, blondish, unkempt hair, holding his fist over his shoulder to defend himself. After staring at each other for a minute, she lowered her book and stood awkwardly, not sure what to do next.
Jake followed suit and dropped his hand to his side. “Uhhh,” he started, “Queen Charlotte, I presume?”
Mara burst into giggles. Of all the things she supposed the boy would say, that didn’t even come close! She liked him instantly, and decided he wasn’t a threat after all.
The girl had a contagious giggle, and Jake found himself giggling, too. What started as a dangerous encounter ended with him enjoying the best laugh he’d had in years. He felt relieved the girl didn’t find a reason to smack him with that very heavy book.
Jake bowed deeply. “I am honored to meet you, m’lady. Jacob Abbot, at your service.”
She held out her hand, backside up, and gave a deep courtesy. “The pleasure is all mine, Sir Abbot. I am Mistress Mara Markham.” He took her hand, kissed it in a gentlemanly fashion, and then straightened back up.
Introductions over, they again stared at one another. Jake noticed Mara had a little space between her two front teeth, which gave her a waifish look.
“Umm, I have a bit of lunch in the basket, Sir Abbot. Would you care to join me?”
Food! She offered him food! He melted. “YES!” he exclaimed, a little too loudly, causing Mara to flinch. “I mean, yes, m’lady,” Jake replied, much softer this time. “A spot of lunch would be marvelous.”
Mara looked at Jake appraisingly. Due to his incredible thinness and his reaction to her offer of food, she had the distinct impression he didn’t eat very often. Suddenly, she became very self-conscious about the extra stones she carried due to the copious amounts of food she consumed. Jake didn’t sound like a commoner; he spoke like her, with a soft manner and an educated verbiage. However, the rags he wore made him look like he lived on the streets. Enough with the appraisal, she thought. I have a guest to feed. Gently, she took Jake’s dirty hand in hers and led him back around the end of the trellis into her special copse in the garden. She motioned for him to sit down on her favorite bench, pulled the basket out from under it, and placed it next to him.
“Please, Sir Abbot, partake of anything you wish.” Mara laid the red and white tablecloth on the ground. She then pulled the food from the picnic basket, and arranged it around the tablecloth.
Jake could only gape at the display of food this one young girl spread out before him. The spread consisted of fruit, bread, cheese, cider, sweets, and MEAT! Oh, my God! She had chicken. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had chicken. He looked up from the repast in front of him, and his eyes met Mara’s. She immediately saw the awe, as well as the hunger in his eyes, and at once knew she would never allow him to go hungry again. She quickly looked away and picked up a baguette, broke off a large chunk, and handed it to him.
Jake took the bread and devoured it. Mara had never before seen anyone eat so fast. She handed him a chunk of cheese that disappeared as fast as the bread, followed by a cup of the cider, more bread, and two chicken legs. Mara nibbled on so
me bread and cheese, allowing Jake to eat as much as his stomach could hold.
Jake ate like a condemned man. He showed no manners, shoveling the food into his mouth, as he filled a belly that had gone too long without good, nutritious food. A part of his brain told him to slow down, that he would make himself sick, but he couldn’t stop himself, and only halted when he had eaten everything. Then, with a great belch of satisfaction, he put his hands on his belly, laid down on the pillows, and stared at the flowered canopy above him with a huge smile on his face.
“I think I made a pig of myself, m’lady, and I must apologize for my behavior,” he said to the air above him. A shadow moved over him, and he looked up into Mara’s concerned, pudgy face. “Why are you so hungry?” she asked. “Doesn’t your family have any food?”
He closed his eyes and frowned, embarrassed. He generally didn’t talk about his life to others. The people on the street didn’t want to know anyway. His appearance screamed no-good street urchin. But after having devoured Mara’s lunch, he probably owed her some sort of explanation for his gluttony. Flinging his arm over his face so he couldn’t see the scorn in her eyes, he started to tell his tale.
“I have no family; at least I haven’t for a very long time. I was born on the Grafton side of London, where I lived with my family until about five years ago, when they all died of the influenza. I now live in the Queen’s Children’s Home, a fancy name for an orphanage, where they starve us and beat us and sell us to the highest bidder. I roam the streets during the day to look for food to steal.”
His voice became softer, more distant. “I hate doing it, but it is the only way to survive from day to day. So many children at the orphanage don’t survive. So if we don’t want to die we have to forage for food. Sometimes, we can find it in the garbage bins, but most of the time we have to filch it.”
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