The Keeper of the Iron Star
I first met Eleanor Ironwood in the autumn of 1883, when the Yorkshire moors were already wearing their winter coat of heather and mist. I was twenty-two, newly returned from Cambridge with a degree in natural philosophy that I did not yet know how to use. The Ironwoods had summoned me to assist in the study of their family's peculiar inheritance—a stone of unknown origin that had been brought...
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