FRANKIE

     I skulked back into the shadows, peering around a corner just in time to see a woman emerge from my brother's lab. 

     She bestowed upon Lewis a kiss that was so long and lingering, it could have spanned several geological eras. I recognized her as Lady Isabella Brouwer, the prim and proper heiress who had caught the fancy of my peculiar brother.

     She sauntered by, oblivious to my presence behind a nearby brick column, as she absently adjusted her dress. The sun had barely risen, and I would have wagered my meager possessions that she'd spent the night amidst the oddities of my brother's lair.

     "Frankie, I know you're lurking there… do come out," my brother called.

     Reluctantly, I emerged from my hiding place. "I didn't want to embarrass the lady," I said, standing in the narrow, cracked corridor leading to the laboratory. Lewis closed the door behind him and approached me.

     "Did you…?" I asked, eyebrow raised. His smile confirmed my suspicions. "I wish you hadn't," I sighed.

      Lewis frowned, clearly puzzled since this had been the plan all along. However, even the best-laid plans have a tendency to go awry.

     "What do you mean…? Frankie, this was your idea! Step 1, marry a rich heiress. Step 2, use her dowry to fund my… our work," he protested.

     I handed him the telegram I had received last night. His face contorted into an even deeper frown as he read the news of the Dutch West Indian Company ship - the Lotus, sinking just one week into its voyage. It had taken all its valuable cargo to the bottom of the Caribbean Sea.

     "Barring the ancestral manor and tulip fields, the heiress is bereft of funds," I remarked with blunt simplicity.

     "But we could sell the land," Lewis said, desperation creeping into his voice.

     "Lewis, it's of no value. No soul would proffer a handsome sum for land ensconced in a harsh climate and barren earth," I countered.

     I saw his hesitation and decided to push my point. "You cannot be entwined with the lady if you seek a wealthy wife."

     I gripped his shoulders, trying to hold his gaze, but his eyes remained fixed on the floor. "You must end things with lady Brouwer," I insisted, trying to sound resolute.

     He averted his gaze, and I added, "If she were a mere commoner, you could retain her as a paramour, but such is not the case."

     Lewis met my eyes then, his countenance a portrait of desolation. I couldn't discern whether it was the sunken cargo or the prospect of relinquishing Lady Brouwer that elicited his distress.

     He shrugged off my hands and spoke, resolution etched in his features, "Indeed, I can't be entwined with the lady if I desire a wealthy wife."

     Although, this was the response I had hoped for, Lewis echoed my earlier words verbatim, and I couldn't ignore the twinge of regret in his eyes.

     I patted his shoulder and offered a small, consoling smile. "It will be difficult, but it's for the best. I'll aid you in finding the ideal match," I vowed, steering him back into the laboratory.

     "I'm grateful, Frankie," he intoned, his voice lifeless. "Your guidance and support are invaluable."

     "Ever at your service, brother," I responded, giving his shoulder a conclusive squeeze. "Now let's put this unpleasantness behind us and focus on the road ahead."