Duchess of the Shire

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.