Elizabeth came running into the parlour with an envelope in her hand. Chiara was attaching some pretty striped feathers to a little brown velvet hat that matched Elizabeth’s new coat. Outside the parlour windows, the bare branches of the trees were tossing about in the strong wind that often blew in across the Fens. But the sun was shining on this bright February day and Chiara knew that spring would be coming soon. “The postmark is Norfolk,” Elizabeth said, as she handed Chiara the envelope. “It will be from Mama.” Lady Fairfax had written a short note to her every week of the month that she had been away, sending her love and hoping that Chiara was enjoying herself in Ely. As she unfolded the letter, Chiara was expecting to read a similar message to those her mother had already sent and she ran her eyes over the familiar elegant handwriting.
