Only joking, dearest. I can hardly wait to see your estate and imagine you as a child there. It is lonely without you, now that all the company has gone. Sir Ronald is a busy man, but I am pleased with how hard he works to recover his estate. I can see why the two of you are such good friends.
Give Georgiana time. Loving her will do for now.
How I miss you. How I long to be in your arms again.
Ever yours,
Amelia
Dearest Amelia,
Our license is settled. The bishop was more than eager to offer it as he believes Georgiana is in need of a proper lady’s influence. I have all but given up. I am only her brother, and I cannot say I am certain of what our father would say to her if he were here.
Is that Pendleton man still available? Perhaps we should pen him, with an emphasis on her dowry?
I took a walk along my favorite path today and thought of you. I am certain you will love the view overlooking my estate. It is green as far as the eye can see.
I see it all with new eyes. I wonder what the trees will look like, the grass, the orchard, the sky, when you are here with me.
I find you wherever there is beauty.
Yours, etc.,
Peter
Dearest Peter,
Georgiana’s letter was well-received. Clara’s heart is too big to stay angry for too long, and Sir Ronald couldn’t care less after having won his prize. If your sister is sincere in her apology, I believe our wedding shall be a happy enough occasion after all.
Speaking of weddings. Two days until Clara is wed!
I am full of butterflies. Clara chides me as I write, for I am late to dress for a full day of duty to her. We shall confirm arrangements for the wedding from the shoes she will wear to the individual flowers that will be pinned in her hair. I confess I care little for the details, but I am steadfast in my duty. I hardly have time to miss you, but my heart aches all the same.
My things from Gray House arrived yesterday, not long after your messenger departed. With them was news of Lord Gray’s passing. I fear there is something wrong with me, for I feel little sorrow. In truth, I almost feel relief. I wish him no ill, but I hope he now sees how wrongly he treated us. And I hope my mother is giving him a stern lecture.
I love you, Peter. So very much. Five days more.
Your Amelia
Dearest Amelia,
Georgiana says I have become “snippy” without you here. I, of course, reprimanded her for the insult, only furthering her resolve. I suppose I have been more frustrated than usual with the distance between us.
Only four days more, and I shall have you in my arms again.
There is absolutely nothing amiss with how you feel. I know you won’t care to hear it, but I am sorry to hear of Lord Gray’s passing. Though I share your disfavor of him, I am grateful that he kept his promise to your mother, that he kept you safe all this time. If there is anything I might do to ease your worries, send word straightaway. My man is paid handsomely for his ceaseless rides between us.
In other news, Georgiana has finally left her room for some time out of doors. She seems to be improving, though she still will not take calls. The estate is well and waiting for you.
I love you, my Amelia. I hope Clara’s wedding is as beautiful and joyous as possible.
Yours, etc.,
Peter
Dearest Peter,
The wedding was everything I’d hoped. Clara was radiant. Mary tucked flowers in her hair just so, and she was covered in lace. I fear I shall not come close to rivaling her beauty. The ceremony was short, the company small, but it was perfectly lovely. Sir Ronald stole her away for the afternoon, and I helped Mary organize my things. I am so glad to have her join us. Thank you for keeping Mary on.
