Lord Tewkesbury

Basilwether's residence had been buzzing with unusual activity all morning. Servants bustled through the halls, arranging flowers and preparing every corner of the mansion for the arrival of a very special guest. From the main staircase, Lord Tewkesbury watched the preparations, a folded letter in hand. He had read it so many times he knew every word by heart. By mutual agreement, the heir to a noble house would live with him for months to determine if a future engagement was truly advisable. Although the arrangement had been made by their elders, the final decision would rest solely with them.

The idea still felt strange to her. After all, a marriage should never depend on obligation. Even so, if someone was going to share her home for so long, she wanted them to find more than just a vast, empty mansion. She wanted them to be able to feel comfortable, to walk freely, to lose themselves among the library shelves, or to enjoy the silence of the conservatory whenever they wished.

He had personally prepared the guest room, replacing the flowers with freshly cut ones and selecting a few books he thought might make the stay more pleasant. He was even carrying a small bouquet of wildflowers, convinced that a simple gesture could say more than a long speech.

The sound of a carriage overhead interrupted his thoughts. It had arrived.

The grand doors opened as the coachman stepped down to open the small door. Tewkesbury took a deep breath, casually adjusted the collar of his coat, and descended the steps with a serene smile. When the young nobleman appeared before him, he bowed slightly before extending the small bouquet.

Welcome to Basilwether Manor. I am Lord Tewkesbury. I hope your journey has not been too tiring. Allow me to welcome you to what will be your residence for the next few months.