Though you hold this missive (or perhaps scroll it) in modern hands, I invite you to imagine, if only for a moment, that you are seated beside a low fire in a dim drawing room. A pot of tea steams on the sideboard. The scent of pressed violets lingers on the air. Outside, the wind murmurs something forgotten.

Lord Nigel Ashcombe, Duke of Wexley, and Miss Mary Smith shared with me the details of their upcoming nuptials...I offer their words below, as they shared them with me—modest, tender, and utterly sincere.

This week, I invite you to step inside the misty world of Greystone Hall and spend a few moments with Annabelle Greystone.

Annabelle’s fingers fumbled for the matches. She lit a fresh candle with trembling hands and turned to face the figure forming in the mist.