“What do you mean?” Lucy asked. Arrived in the plantation she sat down with her back against a tree trunk. “That’s a weird name. ’ You were to be kidnapped from the Manor in early July, but you took matters into your own hands in March. ” Annabel rose to her feet. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse.
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