From walking along the sea shore to holding hands promenading about the city, sharing secrets and eating ice cream, you'd think I was talking about one suitor...

I haven't managed to make a decision between my two amours. This past week has been wonderful as the Antipodean Captain has captured my heart and put a smile on my face that I had long forgotten. He has treated me to ice cream, visited me at work, held my hand at various events and barely left my side for more than an evening. Every evening in fact. He does not stay at my bedside nor does he invite me to his. I cannot tell whether it is his age that provokes this innocence or if he just wants friendship, but I pine for him when we are separated and look forward to our meetings more than I'd care to admit, considering his age!

He does not act the same as my brother; the newly named Carpenter cares nothing for women at the moment and loses his tongue when in their company. My sweet, young Captain on the other hand acquires knowing looks from women wherever we go, his height and looks attracting their attention and I cannot help but blush at my pride.
The Stone Mason on the other hand has kept his distance, although we converse in letter form. His work takes him away from me, something that the olive-skinned brunette is aware of and no doubt pleases her. She is still as much of a problem as ever, but my jaunts with the young Captain have proved the perfect distraction.


I have many letters to write and send back to the Shire and the Northern counties. As the weather here gradually gets warmer I remember last winter as I pined for the musician in the freezing cold. Work has taken over my life as I toil daily to perfect my new found skills, but I find that the harder I work the more enjoyment I get out of it. Who'd have thought a Lady of nobility would enjoy hard labour?


Christmas is nigh on approaching and I have yet to purchase gifts, especially for my Father and Brother who join us in the Antipodes in a few weeks! But tomorrow I shall once again been spending the day with the Captain and I cannot help but smile in anticipation. 





D. S.

Evening wanders seem to have taken over my life as I trundle across the beach arm in arm with the masked guest... He has wined and dined me like a true gentleman, teaching me of his craft as a Stone Mason and I enjoy the little titbits he tells me of the city he has helped to build. He is the perfect distraction from my days of labour and we share a frank relationship; there is no talk of the future and no discussion of philandering. I do not know where this is going to lead but I am enjoying the current situation. 


That is, if I don't think outside the world my masked guest draws me into... The real world, unfortunately, is fraught with slippery decisions and potentially fatal consequences. 


My olive-skinned lover has made a series of demands that I cannot accept; her fiancé mewling at her feet like a stray cares not for her actions only for her praise. I fear I cannot abide their presence for too much longer and it shall mean the termination of our relationship. But how does one remove an unwanted guest? Mother has told me to be direct, but my olive-skinned brunette has lived in my bedchamber for nearly a month and it is impossible to find the words to rid me of her ever nearness. She dislikes my masked Stone Mason and is forever intervening in my life... I feel hampered and wrote to the nun asking for help. If anyone can help me it will be the Church, though I know I have been less faithful in more recent times. 

It's times like these when I miss the Court Jester and Armiger the most. The two of them were like brothers, but so much closer to me than my own. They did not agree with my every whim and were never afraid to speak their mind. My brunette argues with me constantly but it is never for my sake, she has her own agenda that I cannot fathom and it is not something I want to be a part of. 


There is yet another admirer I have subsequently failed to mention; Rowing, it seems, has made it to this side of the world, and I am keen to rectify my position as Patron to a new Boat Club. I am in talks with a Captain here in the Antipodes but he is nothing like the previous Captain whose amorous intentions were made clear at the Ladies Dinner many months ago...


This Antipodean Captain is rather young in comparison, indeed he is the same age as my younger brother (which horrifies me every time I think of it). But he is ever so keen and obliging to my every wish and he mollifies my mood swings and has an enthusiasm that knows no bounds. He is different than the masked Stone Mason, though I'm sure they share a carnal thought, but no less refreshing. 


I shall write to the Coxswain and let her know how my love life fairs, for her insight is always much appreciated!





D. S.

It seems that disguises beguile my new acquaintances just as much as my dear friends on the other side of the world. Of course I'm doing best to oblige the Antipodeans and I believe I'm charming them successfully, but there was nearly a slight faux pas last night...


My love life had diminished considerably in lieu of my labour commitments. The attention I was procuring from the betrothed brunette had become my entire world, and still I think of her with a slight pang in my chest. However I have kept my distance over the last few days, concentrating on spending time with my family and keeping up my correspondence with the my darlings in the Shire and the Northern counties.


However, I was not aware that the masked guest from many weeks ago had been attempting to get in touch with me. My scheming brunette had waylaid his letters and succeeded in distracting my attentions from his whole existence. It wasn't until I found my gorgeous Venetian mask that I'd worn the evening the two of us had met that I remembered I hadn't heard from him since the mysterious bouquet of flowers.


Picking up the mask a note fluttered to the floor. At first I though I was being subject to another of my brunette's games, but it was from the masked guest, asking to meet at a nearby beach. At first I lamented thinking the time had passed, but I heard from one of the servants that a man had been waiting on the beach every night for nearly month, but no one knew who or what he was waiting for. 


Of course my spirits soared and I made arrangements to leave that evening for the beach alone. My brunette lover tried her best to hold me back, throwing temptation in my face with such vulgarity that her desperation sent me to the shores that much quicker.


I know it was foolhardy to leave her in a temper, but I am finding my darling brunette somewhat suffocating and for the first time in weeks I felt free as I fled to the beaches. I had no guarantee that the masked guest would appear as I hoped, but he was there before I arrived. A tall, masculine silhouette stood on the sand as the sea lapped at his bare feet. I wore the gold and pearl mask to remind him who I was, and to reassure myself that he hadn't forgotten me.


Nothing was said as I walked towards him. He didn't turn until I was touching distance apart and then he smiled, lifting the mask from my face and planted a kiss on my lips. I don't want to say any more just yet. I am happy and want to keep this happiness to myself... For now.





D. S. 

I have received a letter from the nun who is still living on the Coast of my England. She is well, enjoying motherhood immensely and has sent me a lock of her darling son's hair. He must be getting rather large, I cannot imagine what he'll look like when I return, and who knows when that will be... The nun also sent word of the Doctor who is in on our little secret, apparently he has continued to enquire after me, even though there are twelve thousand miles between us. That is rather hopeful, but I shall take the time to write to him over the next few days.


My Mother has finally arrived on this side of the world, and the heavens opened over the Antipodes to mark her entrance to this new world. It has been wonderful to catch up with her and hear all about the Shire, my Father and of course my Brother the Carpenter! They are both well, though living far apart because my Brother is far too engrossed in his apprenticeship to live with the distractions of home, but they are both looking forward to joining us this side of the world for Christmas. There is much I want to show them, nothing more so than the beautiful greenery and forests that this country has to offer.

The ever-so-manipulative brunette has continued to rampage through my thoughts and into my life with a furore I didn't think possible. She has a zest for life that outruns my own and I can't seem to help but treat her with adoration. It is terribly frustrating for I know she is doing her best to ensnare me with her charms, and I hate that even with this clarity I can do nothing to stop the inevitable. 


She frequently makes sly comments referring to our deviant liaisons at the Manor house back in March, and isn't afraid of touching and caressing me, even at the most inappropriate times. God knows that she shall never be introduced to my Mother, and I had thought these days were over of lying to my parents about who I spend my leisure time with.


I cannot believe how prudish I sound! This isn't me. I normally thrive on illicit behaviour, leading the way forward for a sexual revolution. What has she done to me?





D. S.

Being abroad is such a distraction from my writing; I cannot believe I have neglected it for so long! But I plan on rectifying that situation post haste.

The rendez vous I was to have with the masked guest was mysteriously cancelled. I know that sounds optimistic on my behalf, but there was an element of mystery involved regarding the cancellation and my brunette woman the following day. For the second postponement I was sent a gorgeous bouquet of sumptuous red roses, white lilies and chrysanthemums, which although beautiful was a little forward. The masked guest has so far been keeping his intentions pure, and I do not see a romance blossoming if we do not see each other soon.


It wasn't until the following day when I was meeting with my not-so-anonymous woman and she did not ask about the flowers so prominently displayed, that it occurred to me she knew nothing of the cancellation. But nor did she enquire...


I suppose she was wrapped up in her own betrothed, whose presence accompanied us to a private menagerie, but the less said about him the better. It was a wonderful day, which helped put my mind at ease for a few hours and I loved seeing all the animals on parade, but something wasn't quite right, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Do I sound exceedingly jealous? I hope not. Though maybe I am. It isn't the same jealousy I had for Belle and the Gameskeeper, because it was both of their company that I missed as they spent more time together... I know I don't approve of her fiancé; he is much younger than her and nothing more than a Squire, fawning all over her and making her act like nothing more than a child with a plaything. There is something disheartening about their relationship and I wish I could put words to how it makes me feel, because 'sick' is a little strong...


It wasn't until we returned home that my brunette asked if I liked the flowers she sent. Startled I explained that the note had said they were from the masked guest and they were an apology for cancelling our rendez vous. She just laughed in my face, saying, 'if that's what the note said, it must be true.'


My thoughts are in a turmoil as to whether or not she was just teasing, for she parted by planting a kiss firmly on my lips, in front of her betrothed! But what if she was telling the truth? What implications can I derive from her actions?




D. S.