CHAPTER NINE
Rachel was electric with excitement. She’d read the letter several times before e-mailing a photo to Margaret in New York. Almost immediately she’d received a congratulatory reply from across the time zones. The more than perfunctory exclamation marks assured Rachel her editor recognized the importance of the find.
Below the letter, below the red-silk-covered tray, were perhaps three or four dozen similar envelopes of correspondence and cards, plus two smaller wooden document boxes. At the very bottom of the trunk was a shawl—cashmere woven in the French style, a golden thread with emblems of empire braided throughout in the same burnished color. It was neatly folded and remained so, though Rachel did dare stroke it with the tips of her ungloved fingers.
Working through the
