Central Park (The Jane Austen Series)

White Smith Debra

Description

Central Park: A Contemporary Retelling of Mansfield ParkWhen her friend returns from his trip to Paris accompanied by a beautiful woman and her flirtatious brother, Francine faces a difficult choice: wait for a love that may never be or settle for a man who doesn't hold her heart.

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 05 juin 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781493414192
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2005 by Debra White Smith
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Bethany House edition published 2018
Previously published by Harvest House Publishers.
Ebook edition created 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-1419-2
Cover design by Connie Gabbert
Author is represented by Alive Literary Agency
Dedication
To my all-time favorite boy, my son, Brett Smith.

Special thanks to LaRae Weikert and Nancy Toback for all the NYC input.
Contents

Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Cast
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
Cast

Carrie Casper: Based on Mary Crawford in Mansfield Park. Ethan Summer’s friend from Paris, the beautiful Carrie is rich, idle, and ready to fall in love.
Ethan Summers: Based on Edmund Bertram in Mansfield Park. He is the foster son of Tom and Mariette Barrimore. A serious-minded young man, Ethan declares an interest in being a pastor.
Florence Ponce: Based on Frances Price in Mansfield Park. Francine’s mother, Florence is the mother of five. She struggles for economic survival in Rockaway, New York.
Francine Ponce: Based on Fanny Price in Mansfield Park. Francine, the daughter of a poor family, is invited to live with her wealthy relatives, Tom and Mariette Barrimore, when she is eleven.
Howie Ponce: Based on Lieutenant Price in Mansfield Park. Francine’s father, Howie is more interested in how much beer he has left than whether or not his children are fed.
Hugh Casper: Based on Henry Crawford in Mansfield Park. Carrie Casper’s brother, Hugh lacks good looks but makes up for it in charm and wealth.
Ike Gentry: The Barrimore family’s trusted employee.
Julie Barrimore: Based on Julia Bertram in Mansfield Park. The youngest daughter of Tom and Mariette Barrimore, the flighty Julie embraces each moment.
Marie Barrimore: Based on Maria Bertram in Mansfield Park. The eldest daughter of Tom and Mariette Barrimore. Marie relishes being rich and craves even more wealth.
Mariette Barrimore: Based on Lady Marie Bertram in Mansfield Park. The Barrimore matriarch, Mariette’s chief occupation involves listening to someone read to her and complaining about her health.
Nora Jamison: Based on Aunt Norris in Mansfield Park. Francine Ponce’s aunt, Nora lives with the Barrimores on Central Park West Avenue in New York City.
Ricky Worthingham: Based on Mr. Rushworth in Mansfield Park. Ricky’s family owns a chain of high-class hotels.
Sandra Ponce: Based on Susan Price in Mansfield Park. Francine’s younger sister, Sandra is eager to see the world.
Tom Barrimore: Based on Sir Thomas Bertram in Mansfield Park. Francine’s uncle, Tom Barrimore is the family patriarch.
Wade Ponce: Based on William Price in Mansfield Park . Wade is a hard-working, responsible brother who stays in contact with his sister Francine through the years.
Yancey Bates: Based on Mr. Yates in Mansfield Park. Yancey is Hugh Casper’s actor friend.
One

Francine Ponce hovered in front of the monstrous mansion’s door. She tilted her head and examined the brown home lined with windows. The structure stretched toward the sky like a tower of doom. She clutched her Aunt Nora’s hand and blinked against the June sunshine that baked the Manhattan concrete. Her watery eyes stung. During the whole two-hour trip, Aunt Nora had scolded Francine for her worried weeping. But Francine couldn’t stop, no matter how many times her aunt referred to her as a thankless waif.
The girl couldn’t imagine what a waif was. The way Aunt Nora’s lined mouth turned down when she said it, Francine assumed the word must mean she was horrible. That would make sense, because her father had told her she was horrible ever since she could remember.
A mockingbird swooped upon the edge of Francine’s vision. She jumped and cringed away from the bird that targeted a yellow cat trotting from the city curb and up the wide concrete steps. Francine inched into the folds of Aunt Nora’s broomstick skirt. The smell of the “bean stalk’s” flowery perfume repulsed Francine nearly as much as the faint scent of vehicle exhaust shrouding the busy street. Francine had thought of Aunt Nora as a bean stalk ever since she overheard her parents’ conversation a month ago.
“Okay!” her father had raged. “If you insist on sending Francine off with that bean stalk of a sister of yours, then make sure you understand I have no part in it! I can’t stand your sisters! I’ve detested them since the day we got married. After the way they’ve treated us, I can’t believe you—”
“Howie, listen to me!” Florence Ponce demanded. “She’ll be living on Central Park West ! This is an opportunity for at least one of our children to break out of this—this—”
“This what?” Francine’s father raged. “This slum?” The crash of glass rattled Francine’s bedroom wall. She assumed the missile was one of her father’s ever-present beer bottles.
Now Francine covered her ears and tried to erase the noise from the corridors of her memory. The rush, honk, and whir of Manhattan’s traffic merged with the remembrance of shattering glass. Francine wanted to disappear.
“What are you doing?” Aunt Nora complained. “Stop wrinkling my skirt like some thankless urchin! Stand beside me.” Aunt Nora’s skinny fingers dug into Francine’s arm. She yanked her niece forward and released her with a jolt.
Francine’s ponytail swayed from side to side. She whimpered, rubbed her arms, and stopped herself from wailing for her mother.
“Don’t start that incessant crying again!” Aunt Nora snapped. “This whole thing was my idea, and all you’ve done is cry. Not one thanks have you given me. Not one! You need to remember your place and remember that you should be thankful for what’s happened to you. You’re moving into a brownstone mansion!” Aunt Nora pointed at the home. “Do you realize this place cost several million dollars? You don’t deserve one scrap of this kindness, but it’s being given to you nonetheless.”
Aunt Nora’s index finger targeted Francine’s nose, and the child backed into the ragged suitcase near her feet. “Don’t ever think you’ll measure up to your cousins.” Nora’s stern lips pressed into a thin red line. “You’ll do well to remember your place and be thankful for the good fortune that’s befalling you.”
Francine locked her knees and wondered how good fortune could feel so bad. She still didn’t understand why she had been chosen to come live in New York City with an aunt and uncle she’d never even met. Or why Aunt Nora had been the one to take her from her home in Rockaway, New York. All Francine knew was that she’d far prefer being at the swimming pool, where her younger brother Wade was today.
“I can’t imagine why they aren’t answering!” Aunt Nora jabbed the doorbell and then pounded on the fancy brown door. “That sister of mine has several servants here every day. You would think one of them would have the decency to open the door.” She wrenched the doorknob, but the thing didn’t budge. “Well I’ll be!” Aunt Nora huffed. “Some welcome this is!”
The fat cat now claimed the third step down from Francine. The squawking mockingbird dove toward the feline once more, and Francine jumped. This time she didn’t make the mistake of turning to Aunt Nora for any kind of comfort. Francine knotted her T-shirt in her sweaty hands and prayed that maybe this had all been a huge mistake and she could go back home. She rubbed her palms across her red shirt’s white letters that read Children’s Christian Association and imagined jumping into the CCA pool with Wade.
“M-maybe we should just go—go back home,” Francine suggested hopefully.
“Go back home indeed!” Aunt Nora stewed. “Just as I figured! There’s not one thankful thought in that head of yours.” The green-eyed bean stalk placed her hands on her hips and turned on Francine.
Francine’s shoulders stiffened. Her eyes widened. She rubbed her feet against the soles of her flip-flops, and a fine layer of grit brushed the skin between her perspiring toes. Aunt Nora had griped about everything during the trip—including the fact that her sister, Florence, had allowed Francine to travel to the mansion in shorts and flip-flops.
The doorknob rattled. Francine’s shoulders drooped. She stopped moving her toes.
“Well, it’s about time!” Aunt Nora snarled.
Francine gazed into the face of the tallest man she had ever seen. Now eleven, she had long ago learned that giants belonged in fairy tales and not in the real world. But this man made her believe in giants all over again.
An annoyed grimace marred a face that was as shriveled as the tomato in the bottom of her mom’s refrigerator. “We had an emergency in the library,” the man explained in a voice that reminded Francine of a bass drum’s boom. “Mr. and Mrs. Barrimore will be coming downstairs to meet you soon.” The suit-clad giant opened the door wider and stepped aside.
Aunt Nora barged past him, stormed into the room, and left Francine to manage her beat-up luggage.
With a heave-ho, the child attempted to pick up the suitcase that held her meager wardrobe . . . along with her cherished rock collection. After Aunt Nora put the suitcase into her cherry-red car’s trunk, she asked Francine about the contents. Upon learning that Francine