January 12th, 1763

When I thought I managed to escape the most dreadful of all things, I prided myself the luckiest of creatures. But Lord, how You try my fortitude and my faith in You!
It seems, my mother wants to get rid of me, as soon as propriety will allow. I´m the last of my sisters to be married off. And there I am, losing my fiancé; how unfortunate of me, they all tell me. My conscience is in no way of their opinion and rejoyced in the fact of so young a man dying on the mere eve of our marriage, I´m muted by my family´s ambitions. As if I had killed him...

Obedience is required, and more or less patience. He might not want me.