The Wistful Crossroads
The letter lay on the damp stone table, its ink still wet, the seal broken with a carelessness that suggested the sender did not expect a reply. Elias Thorne, thirty-four years old and owing the Crown a debt of four hundred pounds for his father’s failed ventures, read the summons twice. It was from the Duke’s private physician, a woman named Magistrate Vane, and it demanded his presence in the...
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