{"product_id":"a-good-woman-isbn-9780440243304","title":"A Good Woman","description":"\u003cb\u003eFrom the glittering ballrooms of Manhattan to the fires of World War I, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author Danielle  Steel takes us on an unforgettable journey in this spellbinding tale of  war, loss, history, and one woman’s unbreakable spirit. . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eNineteen-year-old Annabelle  Worthington was born into a life of privilege, raised amid the glamour of New York  society, with glorious homes on Fifth Avenue and in Newport, Rhode Island. But everything  changed on a cold April day in 1912, when the sinking of the \u003ci\u003eTitanic\u003c\/i\u003e shattered her  family and her privileged world forever. Finding strength within her grief, Annabelle  pours herself into volunteer work, nursing the poor, igniting a passion for medicine  that would shape the course of her life. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut for Annabelle, first love, and a seemingly  idyllic marriage, will soon bring more grief—this time caused by the secrets of the  human heart. Betrayed, and pursued by a scandal she does not deserve, Annabelle flees  New York for war-ravaged France, hoping to lose herself in a life of service. There,  in the heart of the First World War, in a groundbreaking field hospital run by women,  Annabelle finds her true calling, working as an ambulance medic on the front lines,  studying medicine, saving lives. And when the war ends, Annabelle begins a new life  in Paris—now a doctor, a mother, her past almost forgotten . . . until a fateful meeting  opens her heart to the world she had left behind. Finding strength in the most unlikely  of friendships, pulling together the broken fragments of her life, Annabelle will  return to New York one more time—this time as a changed woman, a woman of substance,  infused with life’s experience, building a future filled with hope . . . out of the rich  soil of the past. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFilled with breathtaking images and historical detail, Danielle  Steel’s novel introduces one of her most unique and fascinating characters: Annabelle  Worthington, a remarkable woman, a good woman, a true survivor who triumphs against  overwhelming odds. For Annabelle’s story is more than compelling fiction, it is a  powerful celebration of life, dignity, and courage—and a testament to the human will  to survive.\u003cb\u003ePraise for Danielle Steel\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Steel is one of the best!”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Few modern writers convey the pathos of family and material life with such heartfelt empathy.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Philadelphia Inquirer\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Steel pulls out all the emotional stops. . . . She delivers!”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What counts for the reader is the ring of authenticity.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eSan Francisco Chronicle\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eDanielle Steel \u003c\/b\u003ehas been hailed as one of the world’s bestselling authors, with a billion copies of her novels sold. Her many international bestsellers include \u003ci\u003eHappiness, Palazzo, The Wedding Planner, Worthy Opponents, Without a Trace, The Whittiers, The High Notes, \u003c\/i\u003eand other highly acclaimed novels. She is also the author of \u003ci\u003eHis Bright Light\u003c\/i\u003e, the story of her son Nick Traina’s life and death; \u003ci\u003eA Gift of Hope\u003c\/i\u003e, a memoir of her work with the homeless; \u003ci\u003eExpect a Miracle\u003c\/i\u003e, a book of her favorite quotations for inspiration and comfort; \u003ci\u003ePure Joy\u003c\/i\u003e, about the dogs she and her family have loved; and the children’s books \u003ci\u003ePretty Minnie in Paris\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003ePretty Minnie in Hollywood\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003ci\u003eChapter 1\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e On the morning of April 14, 1912, Annabelle Worthington was reading quietly  in the library of her parents’ house, overlooking the large, walled-in garden. The  first signs of spring had begun to appear, the gardeners had planted flowers, and  everything looked beautiful for her parents’ return in the next few days. The home  she shared with them and her older brother Robert was a large, imposing mansion,  at the northern reaches of Fifth Avenue in New York. The Worthingtons, and her mother's  family, the Sinclairs, were directly related to the Vanderbilts and the Astors, and  somewhat more indirectly to all the most important New York families. Her father,  Arthur, owned and ran the city’s most prestigious bank. His family had been in banking  for generations, just as her mother’s family had been in Boston. Her brother Robert,  at twenty-four, had worked for her father for the past three years. And of course,  when Arthur retired one day, Robert would run the bank. Their future, like their  history, was predictable, assured, and safe. It was comforting for Annabelle to grow  up in the protection of their world.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Her parents loved each other, and she and Robert  had always been close and gotten along. Nothing had ever happened to upset or disturb  them. The minor problems they encountered were always instantly buffered and solved.  Annabelle had grown up in a sacred, golden world, a happy child, among kind, loving  people. The past few months had been exciting for her, although tempered by a recent  disappointment. In December, just before Christmas, she had been presented to society  at a spectacular ball her parents had given for her. It was her debut, and everyone  insisted it was the most elegant and extravagant debutante ball New York had seen  in years. Her mother loved giving beautiful parties. The garden had been covered  over and heated. The ballroom in their home was exquisite. The band had been the  most coveted in the city. Four hundred people had attended, and the gown Annabelle  had worn made her look like a fairy princess.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Annabelle was tiny, elfin, delicate,  even smaller than her mother. She was a petite blonde, with long, silky golden hair,  and huge blue eyes. She was beautiful, with small hands and feet, and perfect features.  Throughout her childhood her father always said she looked like a porcelain doll.  At eighteen, she had a lovely, well-proportioned slim figure, and a gentle grace.  Everything about her suggested the aristocracy that was her heritage and that she  and all her ancestors and relations had been born into.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The family had shared a  lovely Christmas in the days following the ball, and after all the excitement, parties,  and nights out with her brother and parents, in flimsy evening gowns in the winter  weather, in the first week of January, Annabelle had fallen ill with a severe case  of influenza. Her parents had been worried about her when it turned rapidly to bronchitis,  and then nearly to pneumonia. Fortunately, her youth and general good health helped  her to recover. But she had been sick and had run fevers in the evenings for nearly  a month. Their doctor had decided finally that it would be unwise for her to travel  in her weakened condition. Her parents and Robert had planned a trip for months,  to visit friends in Europe, and Annabelle was still convalescing when they left on  the \u003ci\u003eMauretania\u003c\/i\u003e in mid-February. She had traveled on the same ship with them many  times before, and her mother offered to stay home with her this time, but by the  time they left, Annabelle was well enough for them to leave her alone. She had insisted  that her mother not deprive herself of the trip she’d been looking forward to for  so long. They were all sorry to leave her, and Annabelle was severely disappointed,  but even she admitted that although she felt much better by the time they left, she  still didn’t feel quite up to a long journey abroad for two months. She assured her  mother, Consuelo, that she would take care of the house while they were away. They  trusted her completely.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Annabelle was not the sort of girl one had to worry about,  or who would take advantage of their absence. They were just very sorry that she  couldn’t come with them, as Annabelle was herself. She was a good sport when she  saw them off at the Cunard dock in February, but she returned home feeling a little  dejected. She kept herself busy reading and taking on projects in the house that  would please her mother. She did lovely needlework, and spent hours mending their  finest bed and table linens. She didn’t feel well enough to go out socially, but  her closest friend Hortense visited her often. Hortense had also made her debut that  year, and the two girls had been best friends since they were children. Hortie already  had a beau, and Annabelle had made a bet with her that James would propose to her  by Easter. She’d been right, as it turned out, and they had just announced their  engagement the week before. Annabelle couldn’t wait to tell her mother, who would  be home soon. They were due back on the seventeenth of April, having set sail four  days before from Southampton on a new ship.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It had been a long two months without  them and Annabelle had missed them. But it had given her an opportunity to regain  her health, and do a great deal of reading. After she finished her chores around  the house, she spent every afternoon and evening in her father’s library, poring  over his books. Her favorites were the ones about important men, or science. She  had never had much interest in the romantic books read by her mother, and even less  so in the ones loaned to her by Hortense, which she thought were drivel. Annabelle  was an intelligent young woman, who soaked up world events and information like a  sponge. It gave her lots to talk about with her brother, and even he admitted privately  that the depth of her knowledge often put him to shame. Although he had a good head  for business, and was extremely responsible, he loved going to parties and seeing  friends, whereas Annabelle appeared gregarious on the surface, but had a deep serious  nature and a passion for learning, science, and books. Her favorite room in the house  was their father’s library, where she spent a great deal of her time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e On the night  of the fourteenth, Annabelle read late into the night in her bed, and slept unusually  late the next morning. She brushed her teeth and combed her hair when she got up,  put on a dressing gown, and made her way slowly down to breakfast. She thought the  house was strangely silent as she walked downstairs, and she saw none of the servants.  Venturing into the pantry, she found several of them huddled over the newspaper,  which they folded quickly. She saw in an instant that their faithful housekeeper  Blanche had been crying. She had a soft heart, and any sad story about an animal  or a child in distress easily reduced her to tears. Annabelle was expecting one of  those stories as she smiled and said good morning, and with that, William the butler  began crying and walked out of the room.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Good lord, what happened?” Annabelle looked  at Blanche and the two undermaids in amazement. She saw then that all of them were  crying, and without knowing why, her heart skipped a beat. “What’s going on here?”  Annabelle asked, instinctively reaching for the newspaper. Blanche hesitated for  a long instant and then handed it to her. Annabelle saw the banner headlines as she  unfolded it. The \u003ci\u003eTitanic\u003c\/i\u003e had sunk during the night. It was the brand-new ship her  parents and Robert had taken home from England. Her eyes flew open wide as she quickly  read the details. There were very few, only that the \u003ci\u003eTitanic\u003c\/i\u003e had gone down, passengers  had been put in the lifeboats, and the White Star Line’s \u003ci\u003eCarpathia\u003c\/i\u003e had hastened to  the scene. It said nothing of fatalities or survivors, but only that one could assume  with a ship that size and that new that the passengers had been taken off in time,  and the rescue would have been complete. The newspaper reported that the enormous  ship had hit an iceberg, and although thought to be unsinkable, it had in fact gone  down several hours later. The unimaginable had happened. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Annabelle flew into action  immediately, and told Blanche to have the car and her father’s driver brought around.  She was halfway out the pantry door to run upstairs and get dressed, as she said  that she had to go to the White Star office immediately, for news of Robert and her  parents. It didn't even occur to her that hundreds of others would do the same.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Her hands were trembling as she dressed haphazardly in a simple gray wool dress,  put on her stockings and shoes, grabbed her coat and handbag, and ran back down the  stairs again, without even bothering to pin up her hair. She looked like a child  with her hair flying, as she dashed out the front door and it slammed behind her.  The house and everyone in it already seemed frozen in a state of anticipated mourning.  As Thomas, her father’s driver, took her to the White Star Line’s offices at the  foot of Broadway, Annabelle was battling a wave of silent terror. She saw a newsboy  on a street corner, calling out the latest news. He was waving a more recent edition  of the paper, and she made the driver stop and buy one.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The paper said that an unknown  number of lives had been lost, and that reports were being radioed from the \u003ci\u003eCarpathia\u003c\/i\u003e about survivors. Annabelle could feel her eyes fill with tears as she read. How could  this have happened? It was the largest, newest ship on the seas. This was her maiden  voyage. How could a ship like the \u003ci\u003eTitanic\u003c\/i\u003e go down? And what had happened to her parents,  her brother, and so many others?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e When they reached the White Star offices, there  were hundreds of people clamoring to get in, and Annabelle couldn’t imagine how she  could push her way through the throng. Her father’s burly chauffeur helped her, but  it still took her an hour to get inside. She explained that her brother and parents  were first-class passengers on the ill-fated ship. A frantic young clerk took her  name, as others went to post lists of survivors on the walls outside. The names were  being radioed by the radio operator of the \u003ci\u003eCarpathia\u003c\/i\u003e, assisted by the surviving radio  man from the \u003ci\u003eTitanic\u003c\/i\u003e, and they had boldly written at the top of the list that at  present it was still incomplete, which gave many hope for the names they did not  see.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Annabelle held one of the lists in her trembling hands, and could hardly read  it through her tears, and then near the bottom she saw it, a single name. Consuelo  Worthington, first-class passenger. Her father and brother were nowhere on the list,  and to steady her nerves, she reminded herself it was incomplete. There were startlingly  few names on the list.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “When will you know about the others?” Annabelle asked the  clerk as she handed it back to him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “In a few hours, we hope,” he said as others  shouted and called out behind her. People were sobbing, crying, arguing, as more  outside fought to come in. The scene was one of panic and chaos, terror and despair.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Are they still rescuing people from the lifeboats?” Annabelle asked, forcing herself  to be hopeful. At least she knew her mother was alive, although who knew in what  condition. But surely, the others had survived too.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “They picked the last ones up  at eight-thirty this morning,” the clerk said with somber eyes. He had already heard  tales of bodies floating in the water, people screaming to be rescued before they  died, but it wasn’t up to him to tell the story, and he didn’t have the courage to  tell these people that lives had been lost by the hundreds, and maybe more. The list  of survivors so far was just over six hundred, and the \u003ci\u003eCarpathia\u003c\/i\u003e had radioed that  they had picked up over seven hundred, but they didn’t have all the names yet. If  that was all, it meant over a thousand passengers and crew members had been lost.  The clerk didn’t want to believe it either. “We should have the rest of the names  in the next few hours,” he said sympathetically, as a man with a red face threatened  to hit him if he didn’t hand over the list, which he did immediately. People were  frantic, frightened, and spiraling out of control in their desperation for information  and reassurance. The clerks were handing out and posting as many lists as they could.  And finally, Annabelle and her father’s driver, Thomas, went back to the car, to  wait for more news. He offered to take her home, but she insisted she wanted to stay,  and check the lists as they updated them over the next few hours. There was nowhere  else she wanted to be.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She sat in the car in silence, some of the time with her  eyes closed, thinking about her parents and her brother, willing them to have survived,  while being grateful for her mother’s name on the list so far. She didn’t eat or  drink all day, and every hour they went back to check. At five o’clock, they were  told that the lists of survivors were complete, with the exception of a few young  children who could not yet be identified by name. But everyone else that had been  picked up by the \u003ci\u003eCarpathia\u003c\/i\u003e was on the list.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Has anyone been picked up by other  ships?” someone asked. The clerk silently shook his head. Although there were other  ships recovering bodies from the freezing waters, the crew of the \u003ci\u003eCarpathia\u003c\/i\u003e were  the only ones who had been able to rescue survivors, mostly in lifeboats, and a very  few from the water. Almost all of those in the icy Atlantic had died before the \u003ci\u003eCarpathia\u003c\/i\u003e arrived, although the rescuers had been on the scene within two hours after the \u003ci\u003eTitanic\u003c\/i\u003e went down. It was just too long for anyone to survive the frigid temperature of the  ocean.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Annabelle checked the list one more time. There were 706 survivors. She saw  her mother’s name again, but there were no other Worthingtons on the list, neither  Arthur nor Robert, and all she could do was pray that it was a mistake. Maybe an  oversight, or they were unconscious and couldn’t say their names to those who were  checking. There was no way to get more news than they had. They were told that the  \u003ci\u003eCarpathia\u003c\/i\u003e was due into New York in three days, on the eighteenth. She would just  have to keep faith until then, and be grateful for her mother’s survival. She refused  to believe that her father and brother were dead. It just couldn’t be.America's #1 bestseller","brand":"Dell","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302221009125,"sku":"NP9780440243304","price":9.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780440243304.jpg?v=1767720503","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/a-good-woman-isbn-9780440243304","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}