His sister entered the hall, her teeth gleaming far too brightly, her hand wrapped around the arm of her Iffy lover or fiancé or whatever he wished to be called. Rochester's bored eyes snapped away from the duo who had taken their seats in such high-minded fashion, and rested instead on the one empty chair to his right. The tiny voice niggling at the back of his mind told him she would not appear... a suspicion, or was it a premonition? Fear? - It was a vague thing to feel.
Still, a black cloud hovered over his mind - taunting him that he'd made all these preparations for nothing...
The air around the hall smelled of lavender, jasmine and roses. The varied scent came from the many bouquets that lined up the center of the large oak table in front of them. Grandiose candelabras held short-necked crimson-red candles for added effect, and even the waist-high window was left ajar to let in the moonlight.
