Thursday, January 21, 2010

We had quite the Ball a couple of nights ago. An evening to bring us all closer together after we had been away from each other over the Christmas holidays. I had such a lovely night. I was very high spirited, though I'm not sure if that's due to the company or the amount of alcohol that I consumed!

I cannot describe the fun that we had that night, we were all glowing with happiness and pure unadulterated love for everyone, it was such a good feeling. Unfortunately I did make the mistake of opening up and mentioning that I liked one of the foreign ministers, what makes it so unfortunate was the way that I proclaimed my feelings, which were not quite my own to say the least. He is now angry with me and thinks I am slightly pathetic, but really, I know when I have made a mistake but this time, he has just completly over reacted.

Spent the rest of the week brushing up on my study skills, and waited for Friday night's party. Once again the usual group of people, I had my darling Lady Lina as part of my ensemble and we had such a good night. There were games, drinks, eligible men... which Lina thoroughly appreciated! But I have a slight soft spot for her friend Lord Jones. Yet I get the impression that he thinks I'm silly and frivolous... Which I am, but I dislike having him think that that is all to me. But then again I have seen a less apealing side to him as he suffers from a lot of pent up rage. From what, I do not know.

I will keep you up dated but I think this is going to be a slow week. The next party is not til Friday, and though I have a few people to write to (the Duke) there really isn't that much going on, or at least anything of note.

Til then.

D. S.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

It has taken me a while to get my head wrapped around being back up North and away from my native Shire. Sometimes when I look back at my writing I cannot believe how much I take it for granted. In the Shire I am warm and taken care of. Up North, though I am not truly wanting for anything there is just a lack of poise that comes naturally to us Southerners.

But really, I have been back a fair few days and I do need to keep you up to date.

I had a letter wai
ting for me up North from Duke. It is a simple letter hoping that my journey was uneventful and that the letter finds me in good health. A small account of what he has been up to since being back in Scotland, sounds like he is trying to change a fair amount at the manor and I'm not sure how well that will go down with the cotters and greasmen. But no mention of my imploring letter filled with jealous vibes to which I am very thankful. I am not going to see him for months; I should just put him out of my head.

Of course, in being back up North I have had to cope with the humiliation of the affair. It is, apparently not so much of a scandal that I had thought; everyone had already thought our relationship was built on the physical and that it had been consummated months beforehand, therefore this just seems like another rumour of the same vein or another confirmation of previous affairs.

Harlequin gave me a
hug, consoled me and helped me understand the situation before I had to face the public for which I am very grateful. He also gave me the courage to go and face him.

We passed each other in the great corridor two days ago. We were quite alone minus a few guards at their various posts. My heart stopped when I saw him. Can you believe that the last time I saw him I was creeping out of his room in the wee hours of the morning praying that he would not wake up and that I would not get caught?

He stopped when he saw me and was ever so gracious and polite, giving me the appropriate stance for my status. But before I could speak he took me aback with his blasé, 'I hoped I would bump into you, I have something of yours,' and produced my gold and sapphire ring. At the time obviously I had to hide my embarrassment at his simple acknowledgement of our affair, and I did. I think. I accepted the ring and asked after his Christmas and New Year at home with his family, and his
wife. Apparently he had a lovely time but was glad to be back, he missed the Northern dramas that made him feel young. I had to leave him then. I refuse to get caught up in his wily charms again, so I guess it is better if we do not socialise in the same way as before.

I saw him again this morning while at church in the Cathedral. We exchanged little more than a fleeting glance and a courteous bow, trying to be no more excessive than how we acted before Christmas and it seemed to work. We received no looks that could be perceived as out of the ordinary. I need to close this chapter on him. I need to remind myself of the guilt I felt while at home and concentrate on that. Or so the priest told me at confession.

It is lovely being back at the Manor with all my Northern friends. They are so rowdy in comparison to my Ladies in the Shire, but I know that our scrapes in this new year will become memories that we will treasure forever.

D. S.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

It's amazing how church can make one feel. 

There is the impending guilt of sins past committed, the worry of what people think and what they know, and the awesome power that the priest manages to hold over the entire congregation. I supposed that we are fortunate to have an enigmatic priest; we are literally gripped to the seat by his sermons on debauchery, lust and the disintegration of society as we know it. Because I have my own enclave to hide behind and I am never without some sort of head-dress to disguise my features, I do not have to to withstand what feels like the Inquisition from our priests stare, it really is a look that legends are made of. 

This disguise is a feat I have been using for many years, sending one of my handmaidens in my stead so that I could sneak away with the Duke during the summer months. Yet now that I am an adulterer I fear that going to church is my one saving grace. It is the least of the penitance that I should do, but I dare not speak of the affair down here in my own province. If my name be sullied in the North, so be it, at least my reputation here with my own people is still safe.

I have replied to darling Harlequin's letter/parcel with just a small quip that the affair means nothing to me and I expect nothing from him other than to go back to his wife. It is as it should be. I did no wrong for I am only the other woman, not the adulterer.

(I know this is quite contrary to my own opinion, but I feel that I have to put on a brave face, to no one else can I admit my shame.)

Then I thanked Harlequin for his gifts and told him to expect me back within the week as long as this snow subsides.

My lovely ladies have abandoned me in the Shire to go to their relevant places of general accomplishment. So here I am alone, just waiting, once again, for my life to begin. This is supposed to be a new year, but so far I have not needed any of my resolutions because my life has been so quiet.

I have heard through the grapevine that the Duke has made it back to Scotland, yet no direct word from him that he has arrived. I will be put out if our correspondence diminishes this year because of my letter. It isn't as if it's the worst letter I have ever sent. I don't even dare remind myself of the disastrous love affair with the Baron two summers ago. There was a letter that I will always regret sending, this one is nothing in comparison.

I feel that I am going to have to redecorate my home shortly, I might draw up some designs in the next couple of days. I'm quite inspired by this French Queen Marie Antoinette, she sounds delightful if the rumours are true. But if she is anything like me there is another world behind all the rumours, and a face and smile that live up to the reputation.

I think I'm going to go and play in the snow with my brother. It is barely light enough but I will have the servants hold torches while we play.

D. S.

Thursday, January 07, 2010

Oh how I wait for my life to start. I have not heard anything back from the Duke. I am trying to stay positive and am forcing myself to believe that maybe he has not received it, the weather has been frightul and maybe the letter has been misplaced. God forbid that anything should happen to my Duke! I would rather he read my silly confession than be in an accident. I can hardly believe the blizzards we have had to endure down south in the Shire, never before have I seen so much snow and I dread to think of how much colder and more treacherous it is up north.
Up north. That is all I can think about. My ladies seem a bit put out by my referring constantly to the north though I do not see how I can help it. My entire life is up there, I can only dream when I am here.

Ahh the lovely Shire. You are my home and I will always love it here but it is nothing like the city up north where I am no longer hindered by an over-bearing family. Even my friends, however much I do love them have most of their lives down here in the south and they cannot understand how I feel so out of place. Only the Duke understands me. I guess that's why I think about him night and day. And of course it doesn't help that he is a distraction from the dilemma up north. All I want is to get back to the city but I know it is because I think that there will be no scandal, that everyone will have forgotten about it.


Oh how could I be so naive? My darling Harlequin from the northern city sent me a beautiful box of trinkets and a letter keeping me up to date with everything that I am missing! However not all was wrapped up in pretty colours, he told me that he knows about the affair and I am so embarrassed. He tells me not to worry, apparently it had been the court's assumption for a long time, one that I was completely unaware of, enraptured by his languid ensnarement. The pretty masks and feathers were sent to soften this blow, they must have been. Oh how I wish I was with Harlequin, he would soothe my own ruffled feathers and point me in the right direction. I do not know what to do. Do I acknowledge my wrongdoing? Do I act blasé as if it had never occured to me that I had done something wrong? I need some guidance. This affair is catching up to me and I haven't even heard from him, only a fellow courtier. Who knows how I'll react when I see him.

Oh for a letter that does not portray my life to be so d

D. S.

Monday, January 04, 2010

Oh no. I cannot believe what I have done!? The things that get done in the heat of the moment, why can these never be retracted?

I have sent a letter to the Duke. I had it sent, without thinking, post haste to Scotland. I believed soon after that I would have a chance to explain before he left only to discover
that he is already there! It will have now been at least a week since we have seen or even spoken to each other and he will find this letter most confusing. Oh I sometimes cannot even believe myself.

Look at me. Here I am trying to explain myself in writing to a man of little words. I know that I am not going to see him again for a very long time and I thought that would be best, but now I know that I am going to be tormented over the next few months not knowing what it is he is thinking, for I am sure he will not reply.

Then I go even further to try and explain how I felt before I saw him again. How can I say I missed him, I did not think of him, not until I saw him and realised that he was happy and
with someone else! Is it so wrong of me to try and ruin a relationship between two obviously good and kind people?

I guess I needn't really answer that.

I then prat
tle on to him about my jealousy. How on earth could I act so naive? This is not a man to declare your feelings to, this is someone with whom indifference has the greatest charm. And what have I done? I have thrown my emotions to the wind and left him in charge of what to do next. Oh I am a fool.
Dare I say it gets worse what with my honesty about the Officer? How I let my hand scrawl away with this sort of atrocity I will never understand. But at least I have a copy so that if I should get a reply I can compare the tone, or indeed keep it as a warning against one of my temper tantrums.

I feel that my only saving grace in this
entire matter is that I did not end up proclaiming my love for him. Just that I missed his friendship and was sadly jealous of someone I'd never met. I guess it sounds more pathetic than passionate, but I do not care for conventions which keep my emotions under wraps.

I guess there is nothing more I can do but wait. Which is the reason why I wrote this infernal letter in the first place! Oh really I am far too tired to think about this any more. Tomorrow I will seek advice from a Lady who is less inclined to act on an angry whim.

D. S.

Saturday, January 02, 2010

A new year. A new me? How I wish. Nothing ever changes however hard you try. Though I can hardly say I tried particularly hard to change. As I keep on saying, again and again, I love myself far too much to want to change. Is that so wrong?

New year's eve. What a night. Traipsing across the countryside to various taverns with the closest of friends and ending up at a Spanish themed fiesta. Fantastic to see all of my closest male acquaintances and spend some quality time with them and Madame. We had such a great time dancing the night away then walking through frozen fields under the moonlight back to the Duke's house.

I guess I'v
e forgot to mention my new year's eve countdown kiss with the Officer, but contrary to everyone else's opinions I don't think that really warrants more than a few lines of notice.

What I do want to write about, because I can't stop thinking about anything else, is the Duke. I found out that he has a female companion and was jealous. Jealous! What on earth is coming over me? Are there no single men in the world that can pique my interest? Do they all have to have girlfriends? Are all the eligible men taken? Dare I think that I have left it too late? But the Duke, no not him. He is arrogant, clever and obnoxious. Not qualities one particularly looks for in a partner but he manages to carry it so well and he can be really sweet and caring and he has this look, which we used to tease him about calling it the 'look of love', but that look is no longer mine, not that it has been for so long, for years really, but I'm jealous and I cannot believe it. That I cared.

I don't particularly do caring but I have always had a remarkable fondness for the Duke, even when he was head over heels in love
with one of my closest ladies, but that never mattered then nor does it matter to me now that he has another lady at his side. One from Scotland so that I cannot even judge the competition. And seeing as we are all leaving for our various different locations in a matter of days I have to put him out of my mind and concentrate on the matter of the affair back up north. That is a scandal that I can't quite forget, however easily he has.

Men. They are never worth the trouble but at the same time all we can do is think about them and hope that we find one who will never break our vulnerable heart.

D. S.