In this bite-size piece of my first novel, Defining Moments, Elizabeth gets closer to finding herself a lawful wedded bank account. London’s bush telegraph had been rife about the demise of Fergus’s father and his untimely death on the hunting field. A higher frequency buzz was also being circulated at certain social gatherings reporting that despite the Grant's of Silkwoods not being listed in either Burkes or Debrett’s, Fergus was one of the most eligible bachelors around.
She bent her head, to place her smooth cheek against the dry, wrinkled jowls of her Great-Aunt Sarah. The first and last time they made physical contact. Elizabeth snatched her head away; she hated the woman with a vengeance. The feeling was mutual.
Reservoirs of choppy water had flowed under the bridge during the last forty years, taking some of the best bits of Lisa’s life with it, along with the flotsam and jetsam. She no longer had her high-flying job and she would never find another Jack, her mother indirectly responsible for the loss of the two most important things in her life.