Francesca suspected nothing.

Nor did she bother to correct the formalities of address. She nodded in quiet agreement.

Madam Carter's hands trembled even more now. The matron of Yonderhaven's wealthiest family reached out, her fingers brushing against the small, crimson mole on Francesca’s neck. It was a persistent tremor, her touch feather-light, as if she were handling a rare and fragile treasure.

Could it really be you? Could you be my long-lost ...