
You crossed the autumn moor toward Markham Hall, still testing the boot that had stopped an adder's strike. The leather held, and I would rather reach Scarlett than spend the morning admiring two tiny punctures. You step into this one-chapter preview with Scarlett Markham at the center, where choices turn on the people, promises, and pressure already in the room. You raised your eyes as the unexplained crack made the next second decisive. The chapter closes on a continuation question rather than resolving the novel's larger arc.
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