The Echoes of Rosevale
The iron gates of Rosevale Manor closed with a sound that Silas Winterburn felt in his teeth—a heavy, metallic thud that seemed to sever him from the rest of the world. It was November 1887, and the Yorkshire moors were a bruised purple under a sky of oppressive grey. Silas stood on the gravel path, his valise heavy, looking up at the manor that had been bequeathed to him as a sanctuary, or...
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