Read Rose for Rose: Book Two in the Angels' Mirror Series for Free Online

they were able to board a ship for Boston, Massachusetts, Nanama and Gram-Papa Wishart were reunited with their “précieux, unique et extraordinairement superbe miroir,” as Gram-Papa called it. He had polished it twice a week, rain or shine, so long as there was no storm.
    Nanama had whispered to her once that they’d even crossed into Belgium under cover of night to kiss the Rock Bayard of Dinant, then say a prayer for their safe travels, before traveling to Nantes for their ship. They had met there the summer she turned eleven, and it had held a special place in their hearts ever since.
    Of course, Gram-Papa would never admit the crossing and kiss, which had always made everyone hearing the story laugh.
    The story was that Gram-Papa – whose given name was Angus – had found it in an antique shop in the Pyrenees Mountains when he’d been passing through from the Outer Hebrides of Scotland after the Franco-Prussian War when the Bavarian army released him from duty. They’d lived not too far from Bazeilles before the war, he’d said, in some obscure little commune called Escombres-et-le-Chesnois , but due to the battles in the area, many had scattered.
    It took until three weeks after arriving back in the area – mirror preciously wrapped in woolens - before he’d been able to locate Nanama Evelyn and they’d decided it was safer to move the mirror out of the country than to keep it on their persons, should the warring continue.
    He used to tell them stories about his travels, and especially about the precious mirror he’d carefully shipped overseas to his youngest son, Peter, since he was the first to immigrate to America. Three years later, Gram-Papa and Nanama Evelyn, Mother and Father had set sail after them to join in this new world across the ocean.
    Just thinking of their stories made Rose want to weep, and she sniffed her tears away as she tried to figure out what to do.
    She could play the record, but what then? Keep the songs coming? Or suggest some sort of game?
    She glanced at the mirror again as she slid the record from its casing and checked it for scratches. A tremble went through her as the storm outside grew to an almost deafening volume.
    I don’t care if that mirror really is an antique; and I don’t care that it was Gram-Papa’s even. I just know…. Ew, it’s just…creepy! Just plain… spooky! How could he and Uncle Peter keep it, and then give it to Mother? And why would she even want it? I just… I don’t understand… she thought, her heart thumping loudly within her. Why didn’t they give it to Aunt Una and Uncle Lochlann? They’re strange enough, they might have really enjoyed having it around.
    She looked at the mirror again: it looked like fire, with angels heralding the news above in gold… yet in a storm, you could never see your reflection; only something otherworldly she didn’t understand… something strange that gave rise to butterflies in her tummy and sent her heart thrumming wildly.
    “Who wants to listen to Someone to Watch over Me ,” she asked cheerfully, putting the record on before there was a reply.
    Warren smiled, Michael and Steven groaned, and Peter began to grumble, “Gertrude Lawrence, again?”
    “Well, it’s not like you’ll hear the whole thing, anyway, if this storm keeps up,” she replied, trying to sound cheerful. She smiled at the boys, who sat together in a huddle on the couch.
    They managed to grumble their way through that first song before moving on to one of the Bing Crosby songs the boys so loved. As it began to play, she backed away, not realizing how close she was to the mirror again. She glanced back to make sure she didn’t bump it, moving a few inches further away.
    Unless she was dusting it, she tried not to even touch it. Her mother had been the same way.
    And during storms, Mother, Nanama Evelyn, and even Uncle Peter and Aunt Angela had covered the main of it with a long black cloth. But when Mother had died, Father decided