The Engagement Party

by Kimberley Freeman

Genres: Cultural Heritage; Historical Fiction; Women's Fiction; Mystery; Historical Mysteries; Historical Romance; 20th Century Romance

Synopsis

It's 1925 and change is everywhere, even in rural Australia - but is Flora ready? Includes bonus material from Kimberley Freeman's captivating new Jazz age novel, Evergreen Falls. Flora Honeychurch-Black awakens on the day of her engagement party excited yet somehow unsettled. Throughout the day, despite the well-meaning attention of her friend Liberty and the distraction of the household's many preparations for the night's celebration, Flora's unease grows. Her much-loved, erratic brother Sam unwittingly adds to the tension, behaving oddly and drawing mirth from her suave fiance Tony and derision from some of his sophisticated coterie of friends. As the storm clouds gather outside and the engagement party begins, Flora realises that something is amiss. Where is Sam? What secret is he hiding? The answers may be more than Flora - and her new relationships and loyalties - can bear. Author Biography Kimberley Freeman was born in London and grew up in Brisbane. She is the author of Duet (2007), winner of the Ruby Award, Gold Dust (2008), Wildflower Hill (2010), Lighthouse Bay (2012), Ember Island (2013) and Evergreen Falls (2014). Her bestselling books have been translated into over twelve languages. For more information visit facebook.com/KimberleyFreemanAuthor, read her blog on kimberleyfreeman.com or follow her on twitter.com/KimberleyTweets.

Release date: August 21, 2014

Publisher: Hachette Australia

Print pages: 36

Sample

My eyes open and I’m awake for ten or twenty seconds before I remember. Today will be my engagement party. The thought settles on me the way a dragonfly might: it’s beautiful yet a little alarming. I screw my eyes shut again and tell myself to take five deep breaths. On the fourth breath, Liberty interrupts me.

‘Flora? Are you awake?’

I open my eyes. She sits on the spare bed across the room, her long red hair in a plait to her waist, her pale blue eyes blinking away sleep.

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘Did you sleep well?’ The spare bed has a rather lumpy mattress and squeaky springs.

‘Oh, yes. It’s so peaceful here.’ She rises and flicks the curtain aside and I join her. For a few moments we stand there in our nightgowns, hand in hand, gazing out at the rolling green fields that make up my family’s farm, the cows gathered at the dam.

She squeezes my fingers. ‘Excited?’

‘I think so.’

Liberty rests her head on my shoulder. ‘Are you really not sure? You are so lucky.’

‘I know I am.’

‘Will you grow bored with me when you’re engaged? When you’re married?’ Liberty asks lightly, but I sense there is some serious intent behind the question. We have been friends since childhood, though our circumstances are so uneven. When Liberty’s father died and her family could no longer send her to boarding school – St Alice’s in Sydney, where I also took my education – I’d begged my own father to pay her fees. He did. My family is terrifyingly wealthy.

‘I will never grow bored with you,’ I say, rubbing her arm lightly. ‘You are far too interesting. Besides, you’ll be off to America in the new year. I expect a woman like me with such narrow horizons will be far too dull for you.’

She smiles, a tease on her lips. ‘You do rather like the quiet life, don’t you, Flora?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Once more my eyes go to the window, the familiar outline of the fields. Just out of sight to the east is the guest wing, and the line of parked cars with their gleaming brass lamps and polished wooden runner boards. The engagement party guests started arriving two days ago. Many, many more are staying in town. In all, one hundred and seven people will make their way into the ballroom of our home tonight, to celebrate my engagement to Tony De Lizio. The thought of them all, looking at me, thinking about me, fills me with squirming dread.

‘You’ll be fine,’ Liberty says, sensing my mood as she often does.

‘Today is going to be long and full,’ I reply, and even I can hear the little squeak of panic behind my words.

‘Then stay in bed a while,’ she says. ‘I’ll go down to the kitchen and ask Mrs Dove to bring our breakfast up to your room.’

‘What a capital idea.’

**

I emerge from my room much later, and it is as I feared. The house is in an uproar. With thirteen people staying in the guest . . .