Duchess of the Shire

How strange it feels to be in the Northern counties when everyone else has departed on their various vacations. Each of my ladies have travelled far and wide for the summer season, Rosinda even going so far as the New World, I can't tell you how much I am going to miss them all.

I haven't heard from Mother in about a week which is quite strange, I'm hoping that the extension on the South Wing hasn't been hindered whatsoever... Which reminds me, I did have a short postscript from the Marquessa in her last letter that the Head Architect had been asking after me, flattering to say the least, and brought a smile to my face. Hopefully he will still be around when I return in a months time as there will be no one in the Shire to keep me entertained now that the Duke is engaged.

Yes, how dare I even have had a glimmer of hope when the Duke had so set his heart on this new Scottish bride? There was the most elaborate proposal, so I've heard, that as he finished his pilgrimage at Land's End (I'm so grateful that I had a prior engagement that heeded my appearance in the end) the Duke pulled out a ring and declared to his audience that he had been carrying it for the last 800 miles contemplating his love of his new country and the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Of course she said yes, who wouldn't? He has good looks, charm, money that in itself is normally considered enough, but the Duke has class and breeding and a kindness that he brings to every aspect of his life. I know I can no longer fantasise about my life with him as it is never going to happen. I cannot become the other woman in their relationship, though of course the Duke would never even consider so sordid a situation. Yet I know that I would jump at the chance and that makes me doubt myself. I am becoming this unscrupulous woman, someone that I had always deplored yet I cannot deny that I everyday I inch closer to this immoral character.

I no longer want to think about the Duke. Maybe I need a distraction up North, a page boy or a squire, someone relatively insignificant that can fill me in while I wait for the One. Oh dear, I sound as optimistic as my ladies in the Shire. All of whom believe in the clichéd soul mate, whereas I have always scorned such impracticalities and fanciful notions, trusting the sensual cravings of my body and happily giving in to lust. How my reputation would suffer if everyone knew even half as much as what I do get up to. It makes me laugh to think there are those who look up to me... If only they knew.

D. S.