They Mocked Their Elder Sister For Being Unmarried… Until A Mysterious Duke Approached Her At The..

Chapter 3

“Read this,” Thomas said one afternoon, handing her a worn volume of poetry. “The third sonnet. It reminded me of you.”

Elara blushed so deeply that Thomas laughed, and the sound of his laughter was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard.

They spent long afternoons walking near the lake, discussing literature while fallen leaves drifted across the water. He played violin in the music room while she accompanied him on piano. Their hands touched once, briefly, while reaching for the same book, and the memory of that contact kept Elara awake for three nights.

“Even Mabel noticed,” her maid whispered one evening while helping Elara prepare for dinner. “You smile again, miss.”

But happiness inside the Whitmore Estate never lasted long.

One rainy evening, Lord Reginald entered the library and found Thomas and Elara seated together beside the fireplace. Thomas had been reading poetry aloud. Elara had been listening with her heart in her eyes.

The explosion came that night.

“You dared approach my daughter knowing you possess neither title nor fortune?” Lord Reginald’s voice thundered through the study, loud enough for servants to hear from the corridor.

Thomas stood straight despite the humiliation. “I love her sincerely. That must mean something.”

“Love does not preserve noble families,” Lord Reginald snapped. “Love does not pay for the roofs over our heads or the gowns on her back. You will leave this estate by morning, and if you ever contact my daughter again, I will destroy you.”

Elara begged. She threw herself at her father’s feet, weeping, pleading. But Lord Reginald was unmovable. Helena Whitmore supported the separation quietly, insisting that society would destroy the family’s reputation if their eldest daughter married beneath her station.

Thomas was ordered to leave the estate immediately.

The next morning, Elara found him waiting near the garden gate beneath heavy rain. His suitcase rested beside the carriage wheels while water soaked through his dark coat. His face was pale, but his eyes held a desperate hope.

“I will return for you,” he promised, holding her trembling hands tightly. “No matter how long it takes. I will find a way to be worthy of you. I will not abandon you, Elara. I swear it.”

She cried as the carriage disappeared beyond the hills. She waited for months, watching every road, every gate, hoping to see him return.

Then winter arrived, carrying devastating news.

Thomas had died abroad. He had fallen seriously ill during his travels. The letter said he had been buried in a small village churchyard, far from home, far from her.

Elara remembered the exact moment Mabel handed her the letter. The teacup slipped from her fingers and shattered across the floor. The world around her suddenly felt distant and unreal, as though she was watching her own life from the bottom of a deep well.

She locked herself inside her bedroom for days afterward, refusing food, refusing conversation, refusing sunlight. Something inside her never recovered completely.

The cheerful young woman who once laughed beside piano music slowly disappeared after that winter.