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Chapter One

Warbrooke, Maine

1865

As Ja house, he didn’t so rown up in the house and kneell Had anyone else seen the cozy couessed the wealth of the family that owned it Only an art student would have been aware of the significance of the signatures on the paintings that hung from the plaster walls, or of the names on the bronze statues, and only a connoisseur would have recognized the value of the carpets that orn and stained fros and children

The furniture had not been selected for its worth but for the needs of a family that had occupied the house for a couple of hundred years An antiquarian would have seen that the old cabinet against one as actually Queen Anne, the little gold chairs were Russian Imperialist, and the porcelains in the cabinet in the corner were Chinese and too old for the co American mind

The house was filled with pictures and furniture and fabrics froenerations of Montgomery men and wolobe, ranging fros by Italian masters

Walking swiftly, with a long-legged stride, Jamie went from one room of the enormous house to the other Twice he patted the little flannel sack that was carefully tucked under his ar each time he touched it

At last he came to a door and, with only a soft knock that wasn’t meant to be heard, he entered the darkened bedroom For all that the rest of the house wore a tattered opulence, this rooomery wealth

Even in the dark, he could see the gleae, four-poster bed that had been carved in Venice, the bedposts fairly dripping with carved and gilded angels Fro hundreds of yards of pale blue silk, and the walls of the room were upholstered with a darker blue daht back to Aomery ship

Looking down at the bed, Jamie smiled, for he could see a blonde head just above the silk-covered, down-filled coverlet He walked to the s, threw back the heavy velvet curtains to let sunlight into the rooled deeper into the covers

S, he went to the bed and looked down at its occupant, but all he could see was one golden curl clinging to the sheet; the rest of her had disappeared beneath the covers

Lifting the bag fro and withdrew a tiny dog that weighed no ht pounds; what body it had could hardly be seen for the long, silky white hair that covered it The dog was a Maltese, and he’d brought it all the way froift for his baby sister

Slowly lifting the coverlet, Jarinning in anticipation, he took a chair and watched as the anian to move about and lick its bedmate

Slowly, and with great reluctance, Carrie came awake She always hated to leave the war as she could Now, shethe covers down about her shoulders At the first lick of the little dog, she sain at the second lick Only at the tiny bark did she open her eyes, looked into the face of the creature, then sat up, startled, her hand to her throat Leaning back against the headboard, a carved angel’s wing tip poking her in the back, she looked at the dog, blinking in wonder

It was the laugh of her brother that made her turn her head, and even then it took her acame to her that her beloved brother had at last coht, then launched herself at hi silk coverlet and cashmere blankets with her

Catching her in his strong sun-browned arms, Jamie whirled her about, while on the bed behind the yapped excitedly

“You weren’t due in until next week,” Carrie said, s her brother’s cheeks and neck and whatever she could reach of him

Ja in his sister’s enthusiastic greeting, held her at arth, her feet off the floor “And you would have been down at the wharf to greetto arrive Even if I’d co”

“Of course,” she said, s at him, then, a concerned look on her face, she put her hand on his cheek “You’ve lost weight”

“And you haven’t grown an inch” Looking her up and down, he tried to put an older-brother expression on his face, but it wasn’t easy to be stern when looking at Carrie’s tiny exquisiteness Carrie was five feet even, yet all her brothers were over six feet “I was hoping you’d have grown until you at least reached my waist How did Mother and Dad produce such a runt as you?”

“Luck,” she said happily as she turned to look at the little dog, which was now standing on the bed, its pink tongue hanging out “Is this my present?”