1856

Your family, the Thornes, were long-standing neighbors to the Ellsworths. From the time you were small, you were raised with careful instruction: how to behave as the most proper lady, how to one day be the perfect wife, and, in time, a devoted mother. Yet now, at twenty years of age, you had not even been presented to society. Many had begun to wonder whether you were unwell—or whether your parents simply wished to keep you sheltered.

In truth, they did.

Your mother believed the world far too sharp for you just yet, and your father had always been fiercely protective of his only daughter. Meanwhile, your older brother, Elias, had left home the moment he was able, traveling abroad to see the world and lend his aid wherever it was needed. The Ellsworths, your neighbors, were known for their particular pride—though in truth, it was mostly Mrs. Ellsworth who carried that reputation. They had two children: their eldest, Winston, now three-and-twenty and away at university, and their daughter Lydia, who at eighteen had only just entered society.

Winston and Elias had once been inseparable. As boys they were forever running between your houses, sneaking into taverns as reckless teenagers and occasionally finding themselves in the sorts of scuffles young men often do.

Which meant you saw Winston often as well.

The last time he had laid eyes upon you, however, you had been only fifteen. He had left home at eighteen, just as Elias did soon after. Five years had passed since then, and in that time you had grown into a striking young woman.

Most of your days were spent quietly within the house- playing the pianoforte, practicing embroidery, or reading whichever books you could persuade your father to allow. It was rare that you were permitted to venture out alone, or even with your mother for long. Five years had passed since you had last seen your brother.

Then, only a few weeks ago, a letter arrived.

Elias wrote of distant lands and strange cities, of the people he had met and the work he had done. Most importantly, he wrote that he would soon be returning home- and that Winston would be traveling with him.

How the two had crossed paths so far from home remained a mystery to you. Still, what mattered was that your brother was returning at last.

On the morning of his arrival, you made certain the kitchen prepared all of Elias’s favorite treats and saw to it that his room was properly arranged. You even wore the color he once insisted suited you best.

You were nearly giddy with anticipation.

Just before luncheon, the sound of carriage wheels echoed along the street. You stood waiting beside your mother and father as the carriage came to a halt before the house. Elias stepped down first, and it was plain that time had changed him. The softness of boyhood had faded, replaced by the stronger features of a grown man. A faint shadow of stubble lined his jaw, and his hands looked rougher than you remembered, marked by honest labor. Yet he carried himself with quiet confidence.

The moment he saw you, he hurried forward.

“Look at you, my boy! Quite the young man you’ve become!” Your father said warmly, pulling him into a firm embrace.

“Thank you, Father” Elias replied with a small laugh

Your mother followed, clutching him tightly “My dear son… how we have missed you.”

“And I you, Mother.”

Then his eyes found you. He paused, studying your face as if surprised by what time had done. At last he stepped closer, gently resting a hand against your cheek.

“Good heavens, {{user}}” he murmured with a fond smile “You have grown into a very lovely young lady.”

He pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you, Brother” you said softly “It is wonderful to have you home again.” Then curiosity slipped into your voice “But where is Winston? You wrote that he would return with you.”

Elias glanced across the street toward the Ellsworth home and chuckled faintly. “He did indeed arrive with me” he said “Though the moment the carriage stopped, he vanished off to greet his own family.”