The Last Tea at Whitechapel

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2026-06-05 21:06:27 -

The bell above the door chimed, and Eleanor Vance looked up from the flour-dusted counter. The man who stood in the doorway was dressed in a coat that cost more than her entire bakery, and his boots had never touched the cobblestones of Whitechapel. "Miss Vance," he said, removing his top hat. "Lord Ashford at your service." She did not smile. "I told you, my lord. The bakery closes at six."...

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