We promenade about the garden, with Simone and Sienna lurking about behind us, telling jokes and laughing. The garden on the Hereford estate is five acres by itself. It is filled with gardenias, roses, Peruvian lilies, hydrangeas, tulips, chrysanthemums, hyacinths, sunflowers, freesias, daffodils and orchids. We walk about and smell each of them in a comfortable silence. Enjoying the sight of the beautiful colors, and the peace of the quiet garden. When Elijah stops, I turn to see him inspecting a hedge of flowers. They must have been planted while I was away in Paris because I had never seen them here before. There were six flowers on the stem, and each of them were a deep purple with hues of blue in the middle of them.

        "These are beautiful." I smile as I tip my nose to smell them. Heavenly.

        "What are these called?" he asks as he watches me carefully.

        "I do not know. I have never seen these in the garden. They must be new. I shall ask my mother." We continue our walk as the sun begins to set.

        We emerge from the garden in discussion about my mysterious suitor. Elijah had confirmed that it had indeed not been he who proposed, and everyone has sworn to keep his identity a secret. While I played the guessing game and Elijah outwardly ignored me, footsteps approached us quickly. My mother is standing before me flustered.

        "Sabine! There you are. I had the servants search the entirety of the estate for you! Come let's get you changed." she hurries me into the house.

        I look back at Elijah and he is quietly following us with an amused smirk on his face. I huff.

        "Mother. What is going on? Why do I need to change?" She stops and takes a breath.

        "We have visitors. The suitor who proposed has come for dinner." She smiles at me and I frown.

        "No. We had a deal..." She stops me before I throw a tantrum.

        "Darling, I know. I promise this was not my doing. I tried to get out of it, but it was of no use. We simply have to get through it, so act your age please. Change into something suitable, and hurry down." she nudges me towards the stairs in a hurry.

        "Don't worry Mrs. Devereux, I'm sure all should be fine." The Duke encourages my mother and she smiles.

        "You must come meet them, Your grace. They are all so excited to meet you." he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

        "It would be my pleasure. Please lead the way." he follows after her and I head upstairs where I am forced out of my simple dress into something fancier.

        My dress is aspen blue with bows and an intricate pattern of roses across the front. It is lovely, and I look lovely in it. I lazed about the hall preparing myself to enter the dining room where our guests were. I took a deep breath and forced a smile on my face as I glided into the room looking the picture of grace and elegance. I was anything but graceful on the inside. I was a ball of nerves. Although I was determined to find my own match, I couldn't help wondering what my only prospect at the moment looked like. Was he agreeable? Young? Old? 

        I got the answer to my question when I entered the dining room. A frail man stood and grinned at me widely. My skin crawled as his wrinkled eyes trailed my frame. He was indeed old and short, or he was so old his back had simply curved over into a permanent hunch. I couldn't quite tell from where I was standing. His hair was almost completely non-existent, and he had several missing teeth. I wanted to plunge one of the bread knives right into my heart. I looked around the room and, aside from my sisters and mother, everyone's expressions seemed to match my feelings.

        There were no seats left but the one next to my one and only suitor. He must have been rich and with many titles for my mother to think this was agreeable. I look around the room and lock eyes with Samuel. He sends me a look that tells me there is nothing he can do. I glance around once more and lock eyes with Elijah. I pleaded to him with my eyes, hoping he understood. He nods curtly and stands from his seat, smiling before clearing his throat.

        "Do you mind if we change seats, Miss Devereux? I would be most comfortable here, and you are still seated across from your caller. It won't be hard to get familiar with each other." I beam at him gratefully. 

        "I would not wish you to be uncomfortable, Your Grace. I am more than happy to sit here." I quickly moved to the Duke's seat. He pulls out the chair for me. Once I am seated he helps me push it up carefully.

        He smiles and nods at me slightly before taking the seat next to the old man. "Thank you. Mrs. Devereux you have a most agreeable daughter."

        My mother's frown quickly beams into a bright smile. "Thank you, that is quite true, Your Grace. I do not think it shall take long for her to make a suitable match." She shifts her eyes to me then the old man in front of me. "Sabine, this is Sir Gavin Titus, the Marquess of Winchester."

        I smile politely and avert my eyes when he trails his tongue over his remaining teeth. I almost gag, and I make a mental note to thank the Duke after dinner. We eat and hold idle conversation and the Marquess is unbearable. He has constantly mocked our household and rated the women at the table by who was prettier. Even my mother was beginning to lose her patience. The more I studied her during dinner the clearer I saw her frustration and discomfort. She did not like this anymore than I did, and that brought me comfort. When dinner was finally done, we headed to the parlor where the men drank and talked about politics, and the women lounged about the room. I pretended to read as I listened in on the men talking, and my stomach lurched at the words "hand in marriage". I listened closely.

        "She is most agreeable, and would do fine to bear my next round of offspring.” He looks over at me as he speaks. “Yes, I will make great use out of her. When shall we draw up the marriage papers? I shall like to get on with it." I hold in a whimper of disgust.

        "There won't be any marriage papers. This was simply the first meeting." My father speaks calmly.

        "Hmm. Right, how much do you want for her then?" he says confidently.

        The room grows silent. My father stands and pulls back his shoulders. "If you want to buy something, I suggest you try your luck with a horse. My daughter is not for sale. You look very tired, Sir Titus. I would like to escort you back to your carriage."

        Sir Titus huffs and follows my father out of the parlor. I let out a breath of relief, and when I finally look up everyone is staring at me. I realize I am shaking when the Duke places his hands on mine to calm me, and I only notice the tears when Sebastian wipes them from my cheeks. My mother avoids my eyes and leaves the room. I hurry after her.

        "Is this what you want for me? Do you dislike me?" I yell holding back the tears wanting to fall.

        "Darling, I love you. I thought it would be agreeable. You would need nothing." she sighs.

        "Are you mad? How is anything about that man agreeable." I yell.

        "Not the man. The arrangement. He is so old he would not be a problem for long, and you could be a very rich widow to travel and write as you wish." My anger evaporates and I smile.

        “Wealthy, Old and close to death." I think for a long minute. "Well, Viscountess, I think I shall get started on that ball. You have finally outwitted me." We laugh.

        "Remember where you get your wit darling. I am sorry about that old fart. I only wanted what was best for you." She kisses my head and smiles. "Take your time and find someone you love. As I love your father. I never gave up my dream of painting, and he never asked me to. He helped me sell them, and get them into galleries all over. The right person will support you and everything you wish to achieve."

        She kisses the top of my head before she walks away, and I think about it for a moment before walking up to my room. I lay across the bed, and think about my next steps. The right person. How would I know who that is? What does it feel like to love someone? Is it the same feeling I have for my family and friends? If I found him, would he truly support my dreams, so that I could write again? I sigh as my brain loops through the possibility. It was a long shot. I could only be so lucky to find a man as progressive as my father? I drift off to sleep wondering if I could have love, and a career. If it were possible, was I willing to hope to be a writer again?