Elizabeth Midford Novels & Stories

"So you are a widow?! How many children do you have? You are 39 years old. Your appearance is also clean. I like it," said the Old Madame who sat on the sofa. She held my application letter that contained complete files about me. The only last diploma degree that I did not attach to it. It is too high applies to be a maid, it might be rejected after. She is around 75 years old, looks very rich and classy. Silk dresses, sparkling jewelry and bun hair showed her class.

Elizabeth was still outside. Elizabeth was my 30 years old aunt. Elizabeth lived with us back in Virginia and she worked as a nurse at a downtown hospital. She was a beauty, blessed with raven black hair that was naturally wavy and the type of body curve girls below twenty five wished they had. You would hardly tell she was already thirty.

I responded. “Okay, anything you’d like to eat?” “I’ll have the Spaghetti Surprise,” I answered quickly “I would like pork and potatoes,” Emma replied “And I would like the soup with the sweet bread,” Lizzie answered. He scribbled everything down on the notepad, grabbed the menus and walked away. “So Emma, how is it with Adrian?” Lizzie asked “Oh my days, don’t even get me started on Adrian. He’s too slow in everything. Like I literally have to beg him to do things with me.” she sighed.

Sybil’s hand flew to her mouth and for a moment she was left breathless, as the image before her indelibly seared itself into her memory. ‘Eli. . . . she looks exactly. . . . It can’t be! ’ ‘Like Faye. . . . ’Eli said. ’She looks exactly like Faye.’ ………….. The English Coast,1794 ‘Mathilda. . . . you are speaking of murder! ’Elizabeth said in a chilling whisper. ’We will be no better than Magnus and his followers!’

But as the memory spilled from her lips, her joy faltered. "I'm finally old enough, yet Keane won't let me go. He keeps me locked up in this house and refuses to let me set foot outside. I'm not speaking to him." Suddenly, Keane's resigned expression from earlier made sense. Had Elizabeth's memory receded that far back to when she was 18 years old? Marisol studied her sulking face. Despite her indignation, Elizabeth's clear eyes sparkled with life. Her emotions were written plainly across her features, making her look unbearably pure and endearing.

The weight of the new title settles on Elizabeth's shoulders, and a mix of emotions swirls within her—excitement, nervousness, and a touch of uncertainty as she navigates this new chapter of her life as Dominic's wife. Elizabeth manages a shy smile in response to the maid's greeting, her mind filled with thoughts of the future and the journey she has embarked upon with Dominic. She takes a deep breath, reminding herself of the love they share and the adventures that lie ahead. With Dominic by her side, she finds the strength to embrace her new role as Mrs. Bradford, ready to face whatever challenges and joys await them on their path together.

That ought to mean something at least. “What else do you know about Elizabeth? Did she have family?” “I heard she had one, Miss Eve. She used to have one since she was adopted by an influential family here in Manchester. She was an heir to a sect but she ran away after she knew that her adopted father killed her uncle and cousins. She wanted to seek for help, which brought her to Mr. Lucian’s lands, and that was when they developed something.”

That ought to mean something at least. “What else do you know about Elizabeth? Did she have family?” “I heard she had one, Miss Eve. She used to have one since she was adopted by an influential family here in Manchester. She was an heir to a sect but she ran away after she knew that her adopted father killed her uncle and cousins. She wanted to seek for help, which brought her to Mr. Lucian’s lands, and that was when they developed something.”

Delphine nodded, glancing at her son’s weary face, feeling a deep pang of sympathy. Her son, always spirited and handsome, had always been the one closest to her heart. “Barry, that woman, Elizabeth, is definitely not simple. She came from a rural background, but she managed to marry Mr. Reed. She did that by using your uncle’s mother’s influence. Your uncle’s mother also came from a rural family, not born into wealth, but she was beautiful, an excellent cook, and deeply loved by your grandfather. When she married him, she was still young, but not long after, she disappeared. They couldn’t even find her body. The word I got was that another woman, a friend of hers, killed her—most likely for

I had hidden it under a loose floorboard in the mansion’s laundry room, right under my mother’s nose. But Marcos, one of the kitchen boys, had been watching me. He waited until I went to sleep, and he took it all. When I woke up and saw the empty hole in the floor, I felt like someone had ripped my heart out. "Looking for this?" Marcos asked the next morning, waving my envelope of cash in the hallway. "A little bird told me you’ve been working in the city, Valeria. Maybe I should tell your mother. Maybe I should tell the Patron."