Leer The Blue Castle: a novel online gratis (en inglés)

"The Blue Castle: a novel by L. M. Montgomery" is a novel published in 1926. Twenty-nine-year-old Valancy Stirling has spent her entire life suffocated by her controlling family's expectations. When she receives a shocking medical diagnosis, she decides to finally break free and live on her own terms. She scandalizes her relatives by speaking her mind, moving out, and eventually proposing marriage to the mysterious and supposedly disreputable Barney Snaith. Together they build a new life on a remote island—but secrets still linger. (This is an automatically generated summary.)

Así empieza

If it had not rained on a certain May morning Valancy Stirling’s whole
life would have been entirely different. She would have gone, with the
rest of her clan, to Aunt Wellington’s engagement picnic and Dr. Trent
would have gone to Montreal. But it did rain and you shall hear what
happened to her because of it.

Valancy wakened early, in the lifeless, hopeless hour just preceding
dawn. She had not slept very well. One does not sleep well, sometimes,
when one is twenty-nine on the morrow, and unmarried, in a community
and connection where the unmarried are simply those who have failed to
get a man.

Deerwood and the Stirlings had long since relegated Valancy to hopeless
old maidenhood. But Valancy herself had never quite relinquished a
certain pitiful, shamed, little hope that Romance would come her way
yet—never, until this wet, horrible morning, when she wakened to the
fact that she was twenty-nine and unsought by any man.

Ay, there lay the sting. Valancy did not mind so much being an old
maid. After all, she thought, being an old maid couldn’t possibly be as
dreadful as being married to an Uncle Wellington or an Uncle Benjamin,
or even an Uncle Herbert. What hurt her was that she had never had a
chance to be anything but an old maid. No man had ever desired her.

The tears came into her eyes as she lay there alone in the faintly
greying darkness. She dared not let herself cry as hard as she wanted
to, for two reasons. She was afraid that crying might bring on another
attack of that pain around the heart. She had had a spell of it after
she had got into bed—rather worse than any she had had yet. And she was
afraid her mother would notice her red eyes at breakfast and keep at
her with minute, persistent, mosquito-like questions regarding the
cause thereof.

“Suppose,”

… sigue leyendo gratis en el lector inmersivo de Mirrow.