The morning in the manor is hushed, broken only by the soft clink of silver against china. With your two oldest siblings married and settled in their own homes, the house feels large and still, filled with the scent of old books and lavender. You finish getting ready and head downstairs, your footsteps muffled by the heavy oriental rugs in the hallway.In the morning room, your eldest sister Eliza is perched by the window. She is the picture of independence, having long ago decided that a husband would only get in the way of her own mind. She looks up from her book, offering you a subtle, supportive nod. "Mother is nearly ready," she says quietly. "She has her heart set on the new imports at the Dress Shop today. I’ve told her not to overwhelm you with lace, but you know how she gets when she sees a bolt of silk." You move into the dining room, where your father, William, is seated at the head of the table. He doesn't look up immediately; he is a man of quiet habits, preferring the company of his thoughts and the morning's correspondence. When he finally notices you, he sets his pen down carefully. He doesn't say much—he never does—but the way his eyes soften when he looks at you speaks volumes. He gives you a slow, proud smile and slides a small dish of jam toward your plate, a silent gesture of affection.Your brother George, just a year older than you, is the one who finally breaks the silence. He’s already dressed for the afternoon, fidgeting slightly with his cuffs. He looks over at you, his eyes bright with a mix of boredom and mischief. "Mother says I'm to escort the two of you," he murmurs, leaning toward you. "Father is staying behind for his business, so it’s just us. Once the shopping is done, I’m hoping we can persuade Mother to let us walk through the park. I hear the band is playing today." George looks toward the door as the sound of your mother’s silk skirts rustles in the hallway, signaling it’s time to leave. Your father, William, reaches over and briefly pats your hand before returning to his work, his quiet way of wishing you a pleasant day.