summer rain. I cannot simply forget you. As
much as you wish it to be so, I cannot cast you aside as another
woman. You are so much more. From the moment I laid eyes on you
something in me changed. The sadness I carried like a cloak lifted
slightly, allowing a glimmer of sunlight to break through. Your wit
stimulates my mind whilst a gaze from your eyes causes my soul to
soar. Your presence affects me in ways that I cannot begin to
express.
My dearest angel, as requested I will not impose my presence
on you any longer. I will respect your wishes. Yet, my feelings
cannot be contained, for Emily, I do love you so.
Hear my soul speak:
The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service.
Yours forever,
William
Emily
dropped the letter on her lap. She wiped her sweaty palms on her
dress. Love? Love. William Dalton was speaking of love again. She
reread the letter, mouthing the words aloud. He promised not to
pester her any longer, but he wrote to her speaking of love and
emotions he could not contain. Infuriated, she began folding the
parchment. He did not deserve a reply.
Did
he?
She
pulled in her bottom lip, chewing on it softly, mindful of the
wound she’d self-inflicted the previous night. She hated admitting
it, but she had enjoyed dancing with Mr. Dalton. For a man so large
he moved with grace. His hands were pleasantly warm. And he
provided entertaining conversation. Or had done so, until he spoke
of love.
Emily ran
her fingertips over the finely penned words on the parchment. Her
lips lifted slightly as she reread the line about her wit. Clearly,
he was no poet, but he attempted to put into words sentiments that
were not common for one of his sex. He spoke of love and more. The
previous night, he’d spoken of a man and a woman united as two
individual beings with the same purpose in life. Was it possible?
Could such a thing exist? Was it possible for a man to love a woman
as something more than a place to deposit his bodily
needs?
She shook
her head. Of course not. She folded the letter, bitterly recalling
another man that had written to her similar words. Phillip
Hammersmith. He too spoke of love and heavenly union. He’d charmed
her easily. The betrothal had been spoken off and her hand been
formally asked for when she discovered his true nature.
Hurt beyond tears, she’d demanded an
explanation from him and he’d given it to her. “ I am a man and as thus I have to give in to my nature. You
are going to be a respected wife. You will produce an heir and take
care of my household. I will provide for you. It is what any woman
wants.“
She
called off the marriage. Her parents despaired but miraculously
respected her decision. Phillip removed himself to London with his
mistress and from what she later learned he had married a young
nobleman’s daughter.
That had been ten years ago, and yet to this day she pondered
on his words. Women actively looked for a man to care for them.
They married, had children, and took care of the household. Their
lives became a lifeless affair. She didn’t want any of it. She had
no desire for a husband. What she wanted was beyond that. She
wanted a lover, a companion, and an equal. She thought she had
found it in Phillip. She’d been wrong.
She
wasn’t sure what she felt for Mr. Dalton. Whether it was lust or
something more, she couldn’t quite discern. However, his
kiss…
Emily pressed her fingertips to her lips. It had incensed her
from the inside out. She swallowed drily.
His touch had sent flames of desire spiraling through her in
waves. She lost control and that more than anything was what had
prompted her to slap him. Emily chuckled without humor. Yet, he’d
chased her. Not only that, but he’d saved her from the mad horse.
Emily shut her eyes. If she tried really hard she could still hear
his heartbeat. It was strong and wild. She could still feel the
hard planes of his chest under her fingertips. It had only been a
brief moment, but she had felt
much as you wish it to be so, I cannot cast you aside as another
woman. You are so much more. From the moment I laid eyes on you
something in me changed. The sadness I carried like a cloak lifted
slightly, allowing a glimmer of sunlight to break through. Your wit
stimulates my mind whilst a gaze from your eyes causes my soul to
soar. Your presence affects me in ways that I cannot begin to
express.
My dearest angel, as requested I will not impose my presence
on you any longer. I will respect your wishes. Yet, my feelings
cannot be contained, for Emily, I do love you so.
Hear my soul speak:
The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service.
Yours forever,
William
Emily
dropped the letter on her lap. She wiped her sweaty palms on her
dress. Love? Love. William Dalton was speaking of love again. She
reread the letter, mouthing the words aloud. He promised not to
pester her any longer, but he wrote to her speaking of love and
emotions he could not contain. Infuriated, she began folding the
parchment. He did not deserve a reply.
Did
he?
She
pulled in her bottom lip, chewing on it softly, mindful of the
wound she’d self-inflicted the previous night. She hated admitting
it, but she had enjoyed dancing with Mr. Dalton. For a man so large
he moved with grace. His hands were pleasantly warm. And he
provided entertaining conversation. Or had done so, until he spoke
of love.
Emily ran
her fingertips over the finely penned words on the parchment. Her
lips lifted slightly as she reread the line about her wit. Clearly,
he was no poet, but he attempted to put into words sentiments that
were not common for one of his sex. He spoke of love and more. The
previous night, he’d spoken of a man and a woman united as two
individual beings with the same purpose in life. Was it possible?
Could such a thing exist? Was it possible for a man to love a woman
as something more than a place to deposit his bodily
needs?
She shook
her head. Of course not. She folded the letter, bitterly recalling
another man that had written to her similar words. Phillip
Hammersmith. He too spoke of love and heavenly union. He’d charmed
her easily. The betrothal had been spoken off and her hand been
formally asked for when she discovered his true nature.
Hurt beyond tears, she’d demanded an
explanation from him and he’d given it to her. “ I am a man and as thus I have to give in to my nature. You
are going to be a respected wife. You will produce an heir and take
care of my household. I will provide for you. It is what any woman
wants.“
She
called off the marriage. Her parents despaired but miraculously
respected her decision. Phillip removed himself to London with his
mistress and from what she later learned he had married a young
nobleman’s daughter.
That had been ten years ago, and yet to this day she pondered
on his words. Women actively looked for a man to care for them.
They married, had children, and took care of the household. Their
lives became a lifeless affair. She didn’t want any of it. She had
no desire for a husband. What she wanted was beyond that. She
wanted a lover, a companion, and an equal. She thought she had
found it in Phillip. She’d been wrong.
She
wasn’t sure what she felt for Mr. Dalton. Whether it was lust or
something more, she couldn’t quite discern. However, his
kiss…
Emily pressed her fingertips to her lips. It had incensed her
from the inside out. She swallowed drily.
His touch had sent flames of desire spiraling through her in
waves. She lost control and that more than anything was what had
prompted her to slap him. Emily chuckled without humor. Yet, he’d
chased her. Not only that, but he’d saved her from the mad horse.
Emily shut her eyes. If she tried really hard she could still hear
his heartbeat. It was strong and wild. She could still feel the
hard planes of his chest under her fingertips. It had only been a
brief moment, but she had felt
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