The Iron Price of Loyalty
The fog of 1884 clung to the blackened brickwork of East London like a damp shroud. Arthur stood by the window of his study, watching the rain wash away the last vestiges of his family's dignity. The bankruptcy court had been efficient; the ancestral home, the sprawling mills, and the very name of Thorne had been stripped away in a single afternoon of gavel-strikes. He was a man of precise...
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