Friday evening arrived at Hawthorne Manor with a breathtaking summer twilight. The sky transitioned from molten gold to deep indigo, and a warm, fragrant mountain breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient elms across the estate. The manor house was alive with peaceful, joyful anticipation. In the conservatory, florists had arranged hundreds of white gardenias, fragrant mountain laurels, and ivory garden roses for tomorrow's ceremony. Claire stood on the master…
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