Three days later, the private Rolls-Royce Phantom brought Tristan and Aurelia back to the rugged, snow-dusted highlands of Yorkshire. As the car passed through the great wrought-iron gates of Greystone Abbey, the afternoon sun was breaking through the winter clouds, casting a glorious golden glow across the ancient limestone battlements and the vast, undulating moors. Inside the abbey, the atmosphere was defined by profound celebration. Mrs. Hughes and the entire…
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