April 1811

As Mina reclined in a high-backed, upholstered chair, her younger sister, Evie, paced restlessly about the drawing room. The wedding was a mere day away, yet Mr. Langdon's reply seemed as distant as the farthest reaches of the earth.

"I explicitly advised against sending that letter to him! But no, age seems to grant such a profound wisdom in your case – look what did you do, being all high-horse!" Evie chided with frustration, her anger palpable.

She then suddenly halted in her tracks, a familiar storm of emotions brewing within her, and then, true to form, she burst into tears once more.

Good grief, Mina thought to herself, I hope the woman is staying hydrated considering that she must've cried an ocean by now. While Mina empathized with the weight of responsibility and heightened emotions that accompanied her sister's impending nuptials – after all, she herself was under immense pressure to ensure everything was perfect for Evie's momentous day – the frequent outbursts of tears had begun to test her patience. There was hope that the soon-to-be groom was adequately prepared for the depth of her sister's sensitivity. If Evie continued to cry at this rate, one could only imagine the challenges he might face, especially on their wedding night – might be that her betrothed gets himself baptised again with all that downpour. With a resigned sigh, Mina attempted to console her sister.

"Evie, I apologize if my actions have offended Mr. Langdon, but he must understand the importance of his presence. It's in his own best interest."

To this, Evie retorted with a hint of bitterness, "Well, my dowry was supposed to be in your best interest and look how well that has turned out!"

Mina rose gracefully from her seat, extending her hand to clasp her sister's delicate fingers. "Dearest sister," she began with an air of determination, "If it falls upon me to embark on a journey to Dover alone, to seize that obstinate, discourteous gentleman by his ears and return him here against his own inclinations, then I shall do so. You are well aware of my capacity for such endeavours."

Her sister responded with a disdainful scoff, gently withdrawing her hand from Mina's grasp. "Indeed, I cannot deny your talent for creating spectacles of the highest order," she retorted, her steps carrying her across the room once more, "you wouldn't care to make yourself a fool in front of the whole country."

Mina suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, realizing that perhaps her sister's perspective held some merit. It seemed that, in this instance, their source of solace could only be found in one man—the very one who currently resided in Dover, likely taking pleasure in the complexity of their lives, and revelling in the knowledge that they were at his mercy.

He must be quite advanced in years, Mina mused, her thoughts drifting as she contemplated the absent gentleman, for what young man, in possession of his faculties, would pass on the opportunity to acquaint himself with his female kin? Perhaps a married one might have such cause, but still... Any gentleman of fair disposition would, at the very least, extend us a cursory courtesy and offer some assistance in securing our future, wouldn't he? Or perchance my notions are excessively romantic.

Evie approached the window, gazing out at the grand entrance road with a faint hope of a carriage arriving to alter their fortunes. However, no such salvation appeared on the horizon. They remained the sole mistresses of their isolated realm, facing its myriad challenges and intrigues.

Wearily, Evie dabbed her reddened eyes with the back of her hand before turning to Mina, who had settled back into her chair. In a hushed tone, she offered a glimmer of hope. "I pray that you shall bid farewell to those sombre black gowns come the morrow, dear sister."

Mina was considerably taken aback by this request, to which Evie continued. "It has been six years since Miles' untimely demise. I earnestly desire for your happiness."

"But I am content and happy," Mina replied, her voice quivering slightly, "I find solace in cherishing the memories we shared, and I consider myself fortunate to have experienced such love at least once in my lifetime – how many souls can claim as much?"

Evie resolutely shook her head.

"You persist in living within the realm of memories and what-ifs with Miles, but that is not truly living; it merely carries you from one day to the next. I implore you to open your heart to the possibility of meeting someone new, perhaps even as soon as tomorrow."

Mina waved her hand dismissively, as was her wont, yet her younger sister's words did indeed penetrate her heart. However, she could not allow herself to dwell on thoughts of the future, for her primary concern remained Evie's well-being, and, to a great extent, her dowry. Yet it seemed that the latter would have to be postponed for a time, along with the development of a new strategy to secure Evie's and her husband's financial future.

The day of the wedding arrived, casting a delightful blend of weariness and excitement upon the two sisters. Morning had come too early for their restless minds – while Evie was stirred by anticipation, Mina, for her own reasons, had been deprived of sleep. Nevertheless, she faithfully stood by her sister's side throughout the day, guiding her every step towards the altar where she would unite her life with Major Alistair Finnegan.

Major Finnegan, looking every bit the gallant officer, stood at the altar with an enduring smile upon his countenance. He felt a profound sense of gratitude for the providence that had preserved him during the war, allowing him to return relatively unscathed and fulfil his desire to wed Evie, a desire that had been kindled in their youth. In a tender exchange, he confided in Evie about his haunting nightmares and anxious thoughts, while she, in turn, broached the matter of dowry. Yet nothing could deter them from the significant decision they were about to make.

When Alistair spotted Mina taking her place among the bridesmaids, his heart brimmed with happiness. He rushed to her, gallantly kissing her hand, expressing, "Mina, I am overwhelmed with joy, it feels almost surreal."

Mina responded with genuine enthusiasm, declaring, "Oh, I wouldn't expect anything less than that!" Yet, in the recesses of her mind, a shadow of concern lingered, silently pleading:

Just do not succumb to a stroke on this auspicious day, I beseech you.

In the hushed chapel, anticipation hung heavy in the air as the guests eagerly awaited the arrival of the bride. Mina's nerves began to get the better of her as time seemed to stretch on. She couldn't help but notice the hushed whispers and exchanged glances among the assembled attendees, including the quizzical expression on Alistair's face. Turning to him to offer a reassuring word, she was intercepted by the approach of an older lady.

"Please, come with me," the lady beckoned gently. "Your sister wishes to speak with you briefly."

Mina's heart sank. This was hardly the moment for a sudden bout of cold feet. Nevertheless, she followed the woman as her mind raced with apprehension.

Entering a small vestry, Mina's gaze fell upon her sister and Alistair's parents. The expressions on their faces spoke volumes, and she could scarcely contain her curiosity as their wide smiles and sparkling eyes hinted at something extraordinary.

"Mina, dear Mina!" her sister exclaimed, barely containing her excitement. "You won't believe it, but the matter of the dowry has been resolved! Mr. and Mrs. Finnegan received a note from our solicitor, along with confirmation from Viscount Sinclair himself that the dowry agreement will not be contested. It will be settled within a week of the wedding – is it not a miracle?"

Mina's head swam with the rapid cascade of words pouring forth from her excited sister. Amidst the torrent of information, she seized upon the most vital detail – Evie and Alistair were to receive the dowry, and with remarkable promptness at that. She enfolded Evie in a warm embrace, feeling her own anxieties melt away instantaneously.

"Oh, Evie, thank the heavens! I'm utterly astonished and overjoyed for you!"

"I don't mean to hasten you girls, but the ceremony is about to commence," Mrs. Finnegan kindly reminded them.

Evie cast a meaningful gaze at Mina, gently squeezing her hands.

"Mina, I wish for you to accompany me down the aisle."

Mina caught her breath, rendered momentarily speechless. It was a bold request, highly unconventional, but under the circumstances, why not? They lacked any close male relative to perform this duty, and Evie could benefit from a steadfast presence beside her on her journey toward the altar. Together, they soon embarked on the measured, deliberate steps leading them to Alistair waiting at the journey's end. As they made their unhurried progress, Mina couldn't help but notice a pair of scrutinizing eyes from the nearby pew.

Their eyes, a shade of blue steel, hinted at a demeanour of icy composure. Yet, the sharpness of the chin and a certain undeniable allure captured Mina's gaze as she passed by him, leading her sister to her betrothed. When their eyes locked, a strange nervousness overcame her, a sensation she hadn't experienced in years. Regrettably, the moment had to be broken as duty called.

Later, amidst the reception, her sister leaned in and whispered in her ear, revealing the identity of the captivating stranger, "Earl of Westhaven, Victor Stirling."

"Huh?" Mina initially failed to comprehend.

Evie's smile broadened as she clarified, "The man you were so shamelessly ogling—his name is Victor Stirling, and he holds the title of Earl Westhaven. Unfortunately, he excused himself from the reception, or I would have introduced you."

"I wasn't ogling!" Mina defended herself, finding amusement in her sister's ability to observe her at such a critical juncture.

"You were—and I saw him return the favour," retorted Evie with a knowing smirk.

"You require spectacles, my dearest sister," Mina declared vehemently, even as a certain rosy blush graced her cheeks.

Evie laughed heartily, then replied with a touch of sarcasm, "Take care, my dear sister, or your tongue may well loosen from all your untruths."

Victor Stirling—a name as distinguished as the gentleman himself, Mina pondered while seated in her late father's study after the wedding and reception had drawn to a close.

Before she could delve deeper into her musings, a knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. The butler entered, bearing a stack of post for Mina to review. Among the condolences and well-wishes, one name seized her attention, a name she never expected to encounter again given the tone of their last correspondence. A strange pang tugged at her gut as she tentatively opened the letter, her hands trembling slightly as her eyes scanned the lines within:

My Dearest Miss Haswell,

I trust you've now become intimately acquainted with the thrilling topic of dowry resolution, thanks to your ever-virtuous family solicitor. He, in his divine wisdom, has kindly bestowed upon me the transcript of said agreement, which I perused with the utmost alacrity. Naturally, I immediately dispatched a missive to the Finnegans, assuring them of my unswerving commitment to honouring the said arrangement for the sake of the blushing newlyweds. It appears our learned solicitor possesses an uncanny insight into your character, foreseeing that sentimental clouds might obscure your otherwise brilliant intellect, as vividly demonstrated in your most recent epistle. Evidently, the transcripts were the sole requisites for concluding this matter, rendering the heaps, tons, and batches of superfluous details entirely irrelevant.

I must confess, your recent foray into penmanship, while equally deplorable and admirable, presented a delightful spectacle. There's nothing quite like witnessing the aristocratic façade crumble, even if but for a fleeting moment. In this instance, it seems that a potent cocktail of sentiment and impatience overcame your impeccable composure, providing me with a rare and thoroughly entertaining diversion. Rest assured, I harbour no ill will toward you; I can only imagine how age and solitude may play tricks upon one's sensibilities.

Lastly, permit me to offer glowing praise for the delightful weather that has graced Dover recently. I extend a most cordial invitation for you to venture to this coastal haven, for my dear mother is quite eager to make your acquaintance. Who knows, together we might uncover a most suitable match for your esteemed self, and those bothersome clouds of contemplation that hover over your mind shall dissipate forevermore. I do hope you shall consider this humble request and furnish me with your esteemed reply at the earliest possible convenience.

With the sincerest of greetings and an abundance of respect,
Mr. Royston Langdon

And there she was, fuming – nay, seething with frustration, her delicate features contorted with anger. She clutched the letter in her hand, raising a clenched fist over and declared in fiery tone:

"Oh, the audacity and the nerve! Oh, the devil's taunting me with his impertinence! He presumes I am in dire need of his assistance to secure a marriage match! You couldn't be more sorely mistaken, sir!"

She grabbed the letter, stood up from the chair, and was about to walk out the office to show it to Evie, but as her fingers brushed the polished door handle, a sudden, poignant realization swept over her.

Evie, her beloved sister, was now a wedded woman, residing with her dashing husband.

Mina's hand lowered slowly, and she retreated to her writing table. In that moment, she found herself alone in the vast expanse of the considerable estate, accompanied only by an overwhelming sense of solitude and yearning.