The Vanishing Suffragist

The Vanishing Suffragist

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Sep 11, 2026
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Fiction
Historical
18th Century
Mystery
Kidnapping
A sharp, secret‑laden night in 1910s Boston: Eleanor and Clara navigate a glittering society reception where alliances shimmer, insults glide like silk, and one suffragist-Margaret Ainsworth-cracks under pressure just enough for someone to notice. By morning, she's vanished without a trace, leaving behind only white knuckles, whispered warnings, and the sense that the real battle has already begun.
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#786
history
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I was in love with a man I knew nothing about. Until I was wedded to the one I was destined for. I thought it would be easy to forget him and move on with my life. I was ready to give it a chance. He had broken my heart, after all. But things don't always go the way you want, do they? Everything changed when I stepped into this marriage and realized it needed me more than I needed it. I had a huge family. A whole line of brothers-in-law and a grumpy sister-in-law, who was also once my best friend. I did as I was told. I didn't even give it a thought, how drastically my life was about to change because of this decision. Love doesn't always bloom roses in your garden. Sometimes, it leaves behind dead trees that never bloom, no matter how many springs come and go. I was that tree. My husband was everything a woman could ask for. I don't know if he hated me or not... but I was certain I couldn't give him the true love he deserved. Every time I think of it, I realize I am just a withered Princess. No matter how many roses my husband blooms for me, I will always be crushed beneath the weight of my past and mistakes. As always, I found myself standing by the window, feeling the cold air kiss my cheeks while my husband slept on the bed behind me. I rubbed my arms to warm myself. The moon was pretty.

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