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Ten years ago, Harriet was pregnant with her fourth child. Her third was not even a year old, but her husband never wasted much time before filling her with the next. He needed an heir, and girls were all that Harriet had provided so far.
This one had been a boy, though. And, most likely, the last she’d ever have.
Today, she sat in the sun and watched as her second husband taught him how to fence.
Sometimes, Harriet couldn’t quite believe how easily Ernst had accepted her family as his own, but she was grateful for it every day.