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.
Duchess of the Shire
This blog is a fictional account of a semi-Georgian Duchess. It was inspired by the love of all things 18th century and is purely the work of my imagination. All stories, themes, names and addresses http://duchessoftheshire.blogspot.com/ are fictional but also under the UK copyright laws. © .
I hope you enjoy everything that you read and it gives you some insight to a troubled, scandalous and rebellious Duchess.
D. S.
I hope you enjoy everything that you read and it gives you some insight to a troubled, scandalous and rebellious Duchess.
D. S.
Importances
affair
Africa
altercation
anniversary
Antipodes
apology
architecture
Armiger
Ball
Belle
birthday
blonde Esquire
Bohemia
Brewer
Brighthelmstone
building
captain
Christmas
church
convent
Court Jester
coxswain
Dearne Valley
decisions
disguise
Duchess of Tuthershire
Duke
Duke of Albany
Duke's Sister
Earl of Steel City
family
Fanny Hill
Far East
flowers
Foreign Minister
Gameskeeper
gentleman
goodbye
Grande Tour
Harlequin
Head Architect
him
Ireland
letter
love
Luthien
marriage
Masquerade Ball
musician
New World
New Year
New Years
Officer
painting
poem
poetry
priest
Prussian knight
reputation
resolutions
Rome
rowing
Rowing Ball
sapphic
Scottish Earl
Shire
simple gentleman
Spring
Summer
The Brunette
the Continent
the Nun
the shire
the White Knight
traditions
travel
travelling
Valentine's Day
winter
writing
My Dearest Duchess,
ReplyDeleteSorry not to have written in a while but life's been tiring me out a bit too much to even think properly. This seems to be happening to me a lot lately.
Now for the matter at hand. Reading about the brunette has sent warning bells off in my head. I don't want to frighten you, I just want you to be careful around her. I can not put my finger on it but there is something wrong with her, other than I think she's stalking you, and I don't want you to be hurt. It is almost like she expects you to be the other woman after she marries.
I'm glad you were able to escape the brunettes clutches and meet your mystery man at the beach. Very romantic. I do hope he will be your partner on your path to happiness.
Your in my heart,
Misha
P.S. How is your grandmother doing? I hope she is in good health.