““Me! Why would you ever think that—” “Come. I am not blind. And I have been tasked with organizing your father’s papers. With everything in such disarray, it was only a matter of time before I happened upon your papers and recognized your handwriting. I had wondered why your father seemed nothing like I had imagined.” “But . . . to consider me a friend? I hardly think I count as one. It was a correspondence of business, was it not?” “It started out that way, perhaps, but to whom els...e did I write of my travels? And my sheep?” My secret was out. I turned, placing my elbows on the back of the chair and pulling up my feet to hide them beneath my skirts. “You never answered about Emilia’s lambing. How many did she have?” “Two. And who else but you knows how many sheep I lost in that snowstorm last—” “Forty-nine.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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