Another Friday night and another bottle of wine. Does there seem to be some sort of a theme going on, or is that just me? Don't think my life has dwindled to a halt as I drink my weekends away, it is more to get myself through the work that has more than multiplied over the last fortnight. 

I still adore my position, though I do miss the freedom of Bohemia and the Antipodes, but I know that I am working towards an end that is within reach, I just need to get through the next six months. And to help me along, I have started discussing the prospect of the future with the Duke of Albany, as per my previous post. Travel is always at the forefront of my mind, and there are so many countries and cultures that I have yet to explore. The Duke is interested in what the world has to offer, and we are lucky to have few ties to our homes ~ but he is not keen to move this year.

I have made him move across the Continent to be with me and now I am asking the impossible; 'follow me to worlds unknown'. And as I write these words I can see how unfair I am being in my request for he has only just begun to make his home here in the Northern Counties, but I do not know how to still the longing in my bones and say goodbye to the journeys ahead.

There are so many questions to ask but I know my craving for travel will not dissipate, so there is no hurry to escape to the unknown any time soon. Yet I cannot feel comfortable without making plans for something different. I think I have become a little too comfortable, and there is nothing like repetition to eventually stagnate into boredom. The Duke is the man I hope to spend the rest of my life with, but I want us to have a life together that we can be proud of, not one where we just fall in to an unchanging routine, old before our time. 

It can't hurt to see what other opportunities there are out there, can it? 



D. S.

I apologise in advance for tonight's post as I've allowed myself to indulge in a little after hours drink and may have had one or two more than I should have. Doesn't mean that I can't write what is in my head, does it? Though maybe not all of my thoughts... Certainly it would be less damming than the last time I allowed my inhibitions to take over and write at the same time. But that doesn't mean I have to share it with the world. 

Bavaria is now a delicious memory and I am back in the arms of the Duke of Albany in the Northern county. It is lovely to be back, though the work of my post as Lady-in-Waiting has increased over the past few months. It is nothing I can't handle, but it does make me miss my more hedonistic lifestyle on certain days. 

The Duke and I have been discussing our future... There is nothing to worry about as we are more than happy with each other, but we are not as content in the Northern counties as we assumed we might be. That isn't to say that we are UNhappy, for I delight in my work and being close to the Duke is more than I could ask for, but I don't think we are to settle down and make our future home here in the Northern counties...

I have to admit I'm actually excited to think about where our lives may take us... Bavaria was a bit of a tease about what we could have on the Continent, but I know I'm intrigued to go even further afield. Why wouldn't we? We've got our whole lives ahead of us!



D. S.

How long ago it feels since I last wrote, yet it has only been a week! Surely not?! I would never have presumed so much could occur in the space of seven days, but that has been the case for me.

I visited the wonderful Capital of my home and as always London had much to offer, not least the gorgeous sunshine the Duke of Albany and I were subjected over the whole weekend. Though my travelling across the Continent was less than pleasant, (I'd rather ignore it and not mention it again - let's just say the words 'infant' and 'projectile' - and yes, I'm still recovering!) I was delighted to be in the arms of my lover for a few nights.

It was a truly delightful weekend; the Duke and I soiréed with the crème de la crème of international society as we laughed and joked and made plans for the summer. Of course having the sun shine over head does make all the difference - I have heard from Jeeves that Bohemia was unfortunately under a grey cloud that spewed a spattering of rain throughout the weekend. But London was its ever joyous and rambunctious self, though I was rather restrained for a change. I would like to say that's because I have turned over a new leaf ever since I turned the ripe old age of twenty four, and though that may be the case, I know it was because I couldn't stand to be away from the Duke for longer than necessary.

It gives me the greatest pleasure to know that he loves me with a fervour I had never even imagined. We wandered the gardens of St James and basked in the glory of the splendid Buckingham Palace. For the first time my heart sank at the thought of having to return to Bohemia, especially without my Duke. I'm glad I have finally found it possible to say goodbye to Bohemia with good grace, rather than leaving apprehensively.

I'm still all of a titter after spending time with the Duke and I'm very sure that nothing I've written makes much sense. I blame being in love. It's the best and worst feeling in the world, but I wouldn't exchange it for the world!! However I have been given certain tasks I have to complete before I take over my Royal Charge when the Duke and I move up North... When I am going to find the time I shall never know, but I suppose I can sleep when I'm dead... How morbid! No, indeed I shall make the most of the four weeks I have left and begin now.



D. S. 

My first week of being a whole year older was quite the success, and I only hope it means to continue that way! Despite my actual birthdays sedate air, once Jeeves and I began travelling to Polska with our red-headed, enigmatic Irish lady, things took a turn for the more wonderful and spectacular. 

Our first night on the town began in the city of a hundred spires, and we danced and we drank until the wee hours of the morn. Something I fear I do not do as often as I used to! Already the hangover was a force to be reckoned with, though travelling with such a headache is not ideal, the three of us soon opened our eyes to the sights and sounds of our new home for the weekend.

Breslau, Wroclaw, Vratislava. To me the city had more names than I could pronounce, but that only added to the mystery. We three were anonymous in the city, not wanting to spread my reputation further across the Continent than I already have, and we lodged with the kindest of Innkeepers. 

Music could be heard all through the city and we were fortunate enough to literally  stumble upon one of the city's most renowned musical concerts. We were astounded by the talent that Polska had to offer and it was most liberating to walk through the cobbled streets anonymously. 

The sights of the city are vast and impressive; brass gnomes litter the walkways, though they sometimes have more allusive hiding places. The buildings were sublime and the islands were untouched by any extensive architecture. The cathedrals too were not overpowering and it was quite the sight to view the entire city from one of the towers. 

Though we too frequented a beer festival, which had its own ups and downs, the highlight of the entire journey would have to be the incredible fountain display we witnessed, which is near the city's menagerie. The music, such as Tchaikovsky and Prokofiev gave way to dancing fountains as the sprays and water jets pirouetted against a jet black sky. To say it is mesmerising is not enough, the technological prowess of the engineers that are able to create the performance should be knighted. It's a place I would highly recommend. 

But once again I am back in the lazy hills of Bohemia and once again I am packing for another journey. This time a quick jaunt across the English Channel to rendez vous with my darling Duke. Apparently he has something he wishes to tell me, and he wants to do it face to face, rather than via letter. I have to admit, my heart is in my mouth, though I cannot for the life of me imagine what it is he wants to say!

For now, I must rest. My weekend in Polska was more than entertaining, but it too has taken its toll on my exhausted body (and crushed finger, which is a long and uninteresting story). Sleep beckons for I have not yet recovered. 



D. S.

So where was I?

Ahh, yes, the surprise that was well worth the wait... After the Duke and I had made passionate love in the library and feasted with his family upon his return, we made plans to visit the South of Bohemia, a medieval town not that far away from the European capital of music, Vienna.

Český Krumlov is absolutely stunning, with rolling hills and dramatic mountains. The Vltava river meanders through the busy streets and gurgles lovingly at the foot of the castle. We shared such a wonderful time together, just the Duke and I, in this small little town, that I know it will always hold a special place in my heart, though we were only there for a few days.

I made an active decision not to ruin the weekend we had together by giving into the artist's demands and questioning the Duke about the other women in his life. I believe I am the only one in his heart now, and if he has had past lovers then that only makes him all the more experienced for me. And certainly he knows exactly what he is doing! 

It was only once we returned to the City of a Hundred Spires did it occur to me to ask about my surprise, which had seemingly been so easily forgotten. The Duke of Albany grinned at me, his blue eyes hinting at mischief, and he told me to wait in the Palace gardens, and without another word he disappeared. 

Of course I was slightly disgruntled as the seconds turned to minutes and there was even a panicked moment when I thought he wasn't going to return. But at long last he turned the corner and presented me with my dearest and most wondrous Belle! How he managed to convince her to travel the Continent and come and visit me I shall never know, but I only hope he knows my appreciation and gratitude.

We could not stop talking and it gave the Duke much gladness to see Belle and I reunited after so many months. The next few days that followed were in complete bliss and I cannot even recall what it is that we did. However, now that they have both left I feel rather empty, something I have never felt before here in Bohemia.

Again I have a month at least to wait until I get to see the Duke again. The distance does take it's toll, for we take at least a day to adjust to one another's company, whereso I noticed that Belle and I instantly recovered. But I look forward to the summer where the three of us can promenade around the Brighthelmstone convent and enjoy the sun's rays.

But for now I am alone, and they two, are travelling back to my Shire. 

D. S.

I can't believe how the time has flown! Already tomorrow shall we be one month closer to the rough winds of May, and I barely have a weekend to myself throughout the whole of April. But that only means joyous things to me as the Duke of Albany travels across the Continent and joins me once again. 

Where to begin?

I suppose the artist's eventual repercussions need to be discussed after her ghastly treatment of me, though I do promise that I was swift and only slightly less just than I should have been...

Indeed, I also have the pleasure of sashaying through delightful memories from the weekend. The brunette (of all people) and Armiger surprised me with a visit to the City of a Hundred Spires, and we gossiped, and laughed, and drank to our hearts' content. 

Though I suppose, first, I shall quickly skim over my latest rendez vous with the artist.

After I showed my face and was so warmly received by the Duke's family at his home here in Bohemia and managed to waylay the artist ever so briefly, I was surprised to receive an invitation from the painter. She had made it quite clear that she had no interest in painting me ever again, and truly I cannot imagine what else we would say to each other. 

So to tea I went. It's normally a fruit tea of sorts in Bohemia, so I had Jeeves bring with us some English tea as I can't stand the boiled citrus fruits that are claimed to be tea! I was right, of course, lemon and apple I think were the combinations on offer, but before I so rudely poured my own tea, the artist asked me if I knew how many paintings she'd done for the Duke.

A silly question, or so I thought, but I did assume I was not the first. I hazarded a guess at two or three, mainly because the Duke had mentioned one or two names to me previously, and as much as an honour it was to be asked, I am not completely naive. 

I do wish I'd aimed higher however, as the artist showed me sketches of seventeen other women, all of whom have had their likenesses painted by this artist in some glorified silhouette.  I didn't want to rise to the bait, and I casually shrugged it off with a nonchalant, 'everyone has the right to a past,' but I do fear the Duke may have some explaining to do when he returns next week! 

According to the artist she doesn't want to have to paint one of the Duke's women more than once, because no woman should have to suffer through that repetition of being marked and tagged more than once. I snidely asked if she'd ever had to do a self portrait for his collection, and she scowled at the insinuation. 

Of course the Duke has a past! I have a past and I'm sure he'd be horrified to hear about some of the things I've done in my life. But c'est la vie. We eventually parted ways and I shall make no more contact with her, the artist. She lives a provincial life and she certainly wouldn't have understood the drunken debauchery the brunette, Armiger and I sank into this weekend!

It was an absolute delight to see them, despite being for such a short time. I couldn't remember the last time we three had been all together, especially on the Continent! But we certainly made up for lost time as we partied and danced and laughed our way into the early morn. It was a weekend I shall never forget. I truly adore my friends and was grateful that many conversations were left unsaid as we rekindled our platonic relationships. 

I am to travel again this weekend, to the West of Bohemia and visit some more local friends. I'm intrigued as I do love going to places I've never seen before, but am not sure what to expect. No doubt that means an extra suitcase or three, but it would be terribly bad manners to turn up under-dressed! 

Keeping busy is keeping me distracted from the words the artist told me, and allows me no time to think of the Duke's absence. I will have him in my arms, to hold (and ask a question or two) in ten days. I am tingling at the very thought!



D. S.

I hope I can be forgiven. I know I said that travel and writing are at the forefront of my mind and my ambitions, but love has taken me along a more scenic route and I am once again back in my glorious Shire in the arms of my Duke of Albany. It is only because of the holidays in Bohemia that I have the time to cross the Continent and it is so worth it.

The Duke has been playing an interesting game here in the Shire. He is winning over my friends and family, making a name for himself. He has an entrepreneurial spirit and uses his position, my reputation and our combined knowledge to his full advantage. 

We have finally broached the subject of my inevitable move North to be a Lady-in-Waiting to a Royal charge, whether or not he will join me, and under what terms. 

It seems he is keen to stay in England. The Duke of Albany may have a dynasty of his own in Bohemia and that is of course where his main responsibilities lie, but he has the fortune of cousins, aunts and uncles at his disposal. All of whom are more than capable of taking care of his duties, and willing too, mainly to keep their beloved Duke happy.

He was not surprised by the question I asked, and I know he enjoyed torturing me as I struggled to find the words to ask this man to move his entire life across land and sea, for me. The Duke has not given me a decision, but I did ask him to give it careful consideration. Who knows what scandals may erupt as we are not betrothed and I do not have the same ability to ignore gossip and hurtful jibes that I once did. 

Nevertheless, I do not want us to have to bend to the iron will of convention. For now, an equal appreciation of our carnal appetites and whispered nothings are all that I can hope for with this Duke. We have come so far since our first meeting when he disguised his true self from me, and though neither of us are afraid to speak our minds and we still have some rather volatile arguments, our relationship is built on a firm understanding of one another. There are no expectations, despite the love we have allowed ourselves to feel for one another. 

The Duke of Albany has until Valentine's Day to make up his mind. I shall be long gone by then and in the safety of distance can I hear the words he has not yet said. Oh Valentine's day. How the years have changed how I feel every time this day occurs. I still wish I was as young and carefree as the days I would write inspirational notes to the masses.

To give the Duke some time to think I am off to visit the Duchess of Tuthershire in the Capital. It has been nearly two years since we last laid eyes on each other and I can't believe either of us allowed that to happen! I am so looking forward to an evening of red wine and gossip, like we used to. It really is the little things in life that make me so happy.



D. S.

Aphrodite. I taste the name on my lips. The Greek goddess of love and beauty. I know I should be more than flattered at the insinuations the Duke of Albany is making, and I am the first to thank him for his kind gesture. 

But the thought of having a painting of myself in the flesh, in the nothing but the flesh, makes the colour in my cheeks rise and I worry about the effect it will have on my reputation. If the Duke of Albany, this grandchild of Bohemia, heard about me across the Continent, what would be said if I were to accept his offer and drop my clothes to be painted in all my naked glory?

He is bold with his movements and has not let the matter rest since he arrived not two days ago. I adore his firm touch; tilting my head and arching my back as he whispers my name in my ear, but he presses me for an answer when I have not yet decided. 

Later

Decisions are not my forte and that is hardly the first time I have said that. I have not been coerced to make my choice before I was ready, but rather the Duke showed me some of the artist's work. He is truly talented, and he shows great love for the female form. The Duke and I have discussed what is appropriate attire for a woman of my stature, and he assures me that I may wear as many or as few garments as I please. 

The commissioning of the painting will only begin once the artist and I have met and considered at length what my stance shall be, what backdrop I want behind me and what I want to represent in this painting. I have to admit that now I have accepted the Duke's offer I am rather excited at the prospect. Of course I shall have a few of my handmaids with me for propriety's sake, but should the Duke care to observe one of the sittings, it cannot be faulted to have just the one other presence, can it?

I have thanked the Duke in the only way I know how, and though he was due to leave this evening, it seems he longs to appreciate my gratitude for a while longer. This is not a decision I believe I'll regret. 

D. S.

To think ten days have passed since I last married quill, ink and parchment to declare the troubled thoughts in my head. I have been silent only because I have been enraptured by life, caught in its clasp and have not yet tried to fight against the inevitability. 

I am still ensnared, but while the body next to me breathes softly in their sleep, I am free to write and to give you a brief encounter of what has occurred.

The Duke of Albany and I have fought. And forgiven. And argued. And apologised. And screamed profanities to enrage the other, while letting the words melt away and making up most vehemently. It is exhausting spending time with him as I can never fathom what mood shall take him, yet the moments when I am in the presence of someone calm and predictable I long for the Duke's outbursts.

He has devised many reasons for us to spend more time together, and Jeeves has sanctioned to be a part of it no more. He claims he cannot watch over me for with every second I spend with the Duke I dangle deliriously close to a breach of fraternising, that Jeeves doesn't wish to be a party to. Of course I allowed Jeeves the freedom to disappear expertly when the time called, and the Duke has many excuses for us to spend time together.

It does continue to surprise me that the Duke knows my past almost better than I do; I had no idea my reputation had spanned an entire Continent (even the incidents in Iberia, and with the brunette) and for purely physical reasons I understand why the Duke seems infatuated with me. 

I don't know whether Jeeves knew what the Duke had planned or not, but it was a timely exit for his chaperoning, as the Duke presented me with a choice. The deviant games we play should not be made public, I know that much - for how else does a reputation travel so fast? But I cannot keep my pleasure to myself. It should be for the world to share.

We were lounging in his library, comparing ideas about the recklessness of Fanny Hill when the Duke mentioned his intrigue about Sapphic love. At first I rolled my eyes, for what man does not want more than he can handle, but as I tried to explain the love between two women, the Duke clicked his fingers and proudly presented me with a carnal delight of the female flesh. 



So beautiful she stood, fair hair tumbling to her waist, a simple cloak covering her desirable figure. I unknowingly licked my lips as I stared, not able to comprehend what it was the Duke was asking. He whispered in the woman's ear words that I could not hear, and she smiled, stepping forward and reaching for my hand, the cloak falling from her bare shoulders. 

Names were one of the few things not exchanged as the heat of the room made us forget any principles and we feasted on the electrifying lust between us. The Duke, ever the gentleman, left at some point, for I never felt his hands upon my body, and I have to admit I was rather preoccupied with the svelte figure wrapped around me to notice much more. She still lies in the bed next to me, and it has been more than three days since the Duke left me to my Sapphic tendencies. 

I'm sure a game is being played, and I'm sure I shall lose out in the end, but hedonism is living for the moment, and who am I to refuse the beauty of another woman? She awakes... I shall have to disappear again, for how long I do not know, nor care. I only wonder when the Duke shall return to claim what is his...



D. S.

I feel the need to recap everything that has occurred since I travelled across the Continent to start a new life in Bohemia. There is much to tell since I last wrote, but I want to be clear that I had no control over the latest developments; it was as if my fate had already been decided. 

Six weeks prior to this date I was harassed by an unruly messenger who made it his mission in life to create the most awkward of situations betweens us, all the while promoting his master's intentions to meet with me. I'm sure it will come of no surprise to hear that I acted somewhat discourteously despite my intrigue, and my responses held thinly veiled threats. But the day came when I was unceremoniously summoned to meet the author of the indigestible letters and this is where my courage has faltered somewhat and I have been wrestling with what to write ever since. 

The evening darkened as the October sun dipped behind the castle and still I was pacing the floor of my humble abode. I had heard nothing to confirm the appearance of the messenger who had been a thorn in my side for the last month, but I would not and could not believe it had all been a hoax. It was at this moment, as I raised my voice to summon Jeeves to remove me from my tower of humiliation that I heard an overzealous fanfare in the distance.

Before I even had the time to argue, a retinue of handmaids and footmen bundled into my chambers and collected various hats, dresses, gloves and shoes. Quite taken aback, and looking earnestly for the familiar face of the messenger, I gave permission for the strangers to take me as their hostage, nay, guest, as was expected. I never had the chance to put up a fight, though I did request for the company of Jeeves in my carriage.

We pulled up to this gorgeous palace in what felt like no time at all, and I was quickly bustled into my own private chambers. My clothes were already hanging in various closets, waiting expectantly, each vying for my attention, and at last I was alone. There was a single letter folded on the chair in the room, the seal easily recognisable as my 'most courteous servant's'. Despite the adrenaline coursing through my body I remained calm, sliding a fingernail underneath the blood red wax and read what I hoped would be an explanation. 

I had no idea how to respond and fortunately I had little time to dwell on the letter as a handmaid soon returned, and with a a little bob of a curtsey she helped choose me a dress of green muslin and pink lace; an acknowledgement to the summer just gone.

Even through the corridors that I had to traipse to make my way to the ballroom I could hear the agreeable laughter of firm friends. I was nervous; for once I would be the outsider, and completely caught off guard. My steps slowed the louder the raucous ballroom became, and I knew I could outrun the slight handmaid if I needed to. Jeeves was no where to be found, but I was duly informed he was waiting for me in the ballroom.

Though I hate to admit it, I was relieved when I saw the messenger lurking in the corridor ahead of me. I would recognise him anywhere after the few incidents that we'd shared. I wished I had asked him more questions about his master, or indeed given myself more preparation time before throwing myself head first into this social gathering. The messenger turned to leave through another door, but gave me a reassuring wink as he left me once again to my own devices. 

The handmaid had slowed to a halt, explaining that she was unable to enter the ballroom with me, but through the door I would arrive at the top of some stairs and a herald would announce my arrival. I felt like one of those princesses I had read about as a child, but rather than excited to meet prince charming, I was nervous.

As the doors opened and I heard my name read out to the throngs of people below, I scanned the room for Jeeves and the messenger, the only two people I had as allies in the roomful of strangers. I wondered who it was I was supposed to meet and hoped he would not leave me to flounder for too long. Step by step I lowered myself to the spider's nest, and noted the beautiful drapes and delightful chandeliers that lit up the room. 

I blame my inability to guess what would happen next on the intoxication of my surroundings. I'm sure by now it might be possible for you to imagine who it was who had personally been sending me the letters, but I was enraptured with the situation and completely put at ease by my Bohemian courtiers. I had enjoyed several dances with both ladies and gentlemen, and laughed gallantly at our miscommunication due to the difficulty in language, but when I felt a calloused hand on my shoulder, I too sensed that the answer to my impending question was near. 

The messenger's blue eyes met mine with a grin, and he bowed sarcastically as my mouth formed an astonished 'O'. We danced without uttering a single word, neither of us wanting to admit the emotions hidden beneath our conventional façades. 



D. S.