It was a usual Saturday, rainy and loud in Herbor Town, except that no one has met at the dining room for supper. Lord Harr Paris was outside of Mrs. Paul's chamber, standing by the door hearing the agonizing screams of Lady Gertrude. Her pain overshadowed his thinking, fearing that she was drawing her very last breath. Everyone barely ate that evening due to her unexpected labor.

Jeanne Mallhore invited her sister, Gertrude Paris, to spend the month at her simple dwelling until she gave birth to her baby.

Lord Paris came to be with his beloved wife, Gertrude. It was surprising that he wasn't as prideful as his older brothers, such as Lord Pavis and Mitchell who thought that a poor maiden as Gertrude would never be a good fit.

"Gertrude..." whispered Lord Paris in a stutter.

"She will be fine," said Elise and Marty, Jeanne and Gertrude's twin sisters. They were told to wait outside to comfort Lord Paris who wanted to hear Gertrude's voice reassuring him that she was alright.

"She has to be," added Harris, the ten-year-old male in Mallhore's petite family.

Paris gave Harris a thankful head nod then frowned at the sudden silence that reigned over the place. He nudged at his young brother-in-law when the door opened. Lord Paris swallowed waiting impatiently for Mrs. Paul to speak. There were tears in her eyes, her hands covered in blood and Paris couldn't cope with the long stares and reticence. He burst through the door behind Mrs. Paul and saw Jeanne comforting her sister, Gertrude, who was wailing.

"She lost her babe," Jeanne explained as Paris fell on his knees near the dead child. "Thou art a wonderful husband to my sister, my Lord and I think this is another hard time for thee, as I know it's thy desire to birth an heir."

"Which I cannot!" Gertrude cried. Finally, her tears broke free, for it was such a confusion going through a stillbirth for a fourth time.

"No, my dearest! Say not such a thing. We can try again, can we not?" Paris planted repetitive kisses on Gertrude's forehead, reassuring that she was not a burdensome woman who could not bear a child. He sat on the small bed and lamented with her.

Jeanne, who wanted to give the grieving couple some privacy, left. As she walked in the hallway,  Mr. Hellior, the butler, startled her as he appeared from behind with no warning. He had a deep and overbearing voice which could even frighten a dog.

"Mr. Hellior, I plead thee to announce thy presence," Jeanne exhaled, landing her hand over her agitated chest. "What hast thou for me?"

"I urge thee to pardon my indelicacy, mistress. A gentleman hath left thee a letter." Hellior handed her the envelope, which she took with a bit of reluctance. It was anonymous, though she knew that it was from him, Arthur Armand, the carrier of her sweetest dreams. A smile nested on her pink lips, despite her sadness over her sister's misfortune. Jeanne ran to her room and sat with a candle in her left hand reading each word carefully.

My sweet turtledove,

I know it hath been a while, but I have thought of thee everytime I looked at the moon. It maketh me feel so close to thee, not minding the distance holding me back from crashing my lips upon yours. Our first kiss is the only solace I have so far, meanwhile I desire much more. I want to take responsability to request thine hand. Thy precious hand! Would thee trust me to assent to that request?

I know that my promises sound vague just as a pound of dust on a scale. However, I do want to make thee mine even if it'd mean to welcome thy four sisters and brother into my very home to reside. I care no longer about what people will say. Please, allow me to welcome thy family into my home.

I spoke to my mother about her deceitful behaviour when she came to taunt thee and your household. I apologize for such haughty and asinine remarks on her behalf. My heart is suffering and mine eyes refuse to span upon another maiden if not thee.

Oh dear Jeanne? What hast thou done to me? Please, do me the greatest honor to be mine forever, for mine heart is not at peace when I am so frightened that our love may weaken and surrender to the tribulations enfolding us. My ears are eager to hear from thee, my dearest. Expect my brother to visit early in the morning, and thou mayest give him thy fair response.

With love,

Arthur Armand.

She wanted to scream his name and summon her siblings to rejoice with her. However, weeks ago, Duchess Alma, Arthur's mother gave her an unexpected visit. Duchess Alma dared to call her home somewhere that would be suitable for hogs to eat. It was fair to say that Jeanne deserved a better apology.

Jeanne slid the letter under her pillow whereas she shared her room with all of her four young sisters, except Harris who was a boy and slept in their deceased father's bedroom.

She turned a glance toward the door and noticed Lord Pavis, Paris' older brother who walked in uninvited. He closed the door behind him and watched Jeanne's anticipated face.

"Your grace!" she exclaimed, in a cautious tone. Although he was handsome and physically robust, Jeanne had disdain toward his constant eager to talk about his possesions and famous connections. "I did not know thou werest here."

"Yes, Ms. Mallhore," he smirked, "I am in thy modest abode, indeed."

"My cottage is modest, but warm enough to cope with thy pretentious attitude, Mr. Pavis. Thinkest thou not that it is right to say so?"

"Thou couldst have everything thou wishest for—"

"I would never marry thee, Mr. Pavis and I don't regret it one bit!" She interrupted.

"My mansion is..."

"Your home is tremendous, similar to a palace, I noticed. Still, I fear that won't impress me. I may be poor as ye all say in this town, and ye may all try to ruin my family's reputation because of the youthful mistakes of our father, but be sure that he raised us well."

"Thou hast nothing, yet darest again to reject my offer. I was doing thee a favor..."

"A favor that I humbly decline, and yes! I do have something that the opulent girls don't have, which is a brain, sir. If they did, they wouldn't have offered themselves to marry such a conceited and superficial goose like you."

She bowed. "Now, I beg that thou withdrawest from my room."

A malicious thought rung around Lord Pavis' mind. He walked toward the door and turned. "I heard Arthur Armand's wedding is a week away. Feel free to go with my invite."

"Thou liest!" Jeanne whispered in disbelief. Her breath grew heavy and her heart was saturated with distress and bewilderment. Lord Pavis giggled and withdrew without a word. Jeanne hastened to search for her bed to cry. Her ears were still trying to adjust to the shocking information. She burned Arthur's letter and remained in her room until she fell asleep.

The next morning, one of the triplets poked her awake. She looked to the window and saw a carriage coming from the East region. It was Arthur's brother, Haram, who came to get a written response from her. Jeanne rushed down the stairs and ran outside to meet him. She was anguished and angry, thinking the worst about Arthur Armand.

"Jeanne!" greeted Haram descending the carriage. "I'm in a hurry. Hast thou the letter?"

"Why shall I if he's already marrying someone else?"

"Who hath told thee such an atrocious lie, if I may ask?" Haram had a short time which wasn't enough to clarify Pavis' malignant allegations about Arthur who indeed had to marry Lady Lisa, chosen by Duchess Alma. However, he refused to comply to her exigences and decided to marry Jeanne instead. Unfortunately, she didn't have a letter, just a few words for him.

"Tell my Lord that I fell asleep," she sighed, "and that my response is yes. I want to marry him."

"So shall be my command," Haram kissed her hand and went on his way with a happy face.