Rosamund
The handwriting in Elowen's message and the handwriting on my letter were identical. The same neat, deliberate script. The same precise spacing between words. Even the phrasing carried the same cadence.
"I think it's the same person," Julian said quietly.
"Months apart." I stared at both letters side by side. "Someone has been warning the Duke's fiancées for a long time."
"And my sister listened." Julian's voice had changed. The pleasant composure was gone, replaced by anger. "She listened, and she tried to leave, but in that process she vanished."
"Julian." I looked up at him. "The woman who lured me out with the second letter, the one who attacked me on the road, she tried to kill me. Whoever is writing these letters isn't trying to save anyone. The warnings are bait. They lure the women out of the Duke's protection, and then..."
A chill ran through me. I couldn't finish the sentence.
