With her heart in tatters and her mind racing with the prospect of marrying such a man as the Duke of Bradford, Adelaide hurried upstairs to seek solace in the letter that Jasper had left at the house whilst she was out. She had been awaiting its arrival and rejoiced at the sight of it on the shelf by the door. Indeed, she almost forgot that the letter was not intended for her, but for Miss Green instead.

Reaching her bedchamber, she closed the door and went to sit in the window-nook. Once there, she curled up against the cushions and unfolded the letter.

Dear Miss Green,

London misses you, also, though I hope you are finding some enjoyment in the fresh air of the countryside. Indeed, I am almost eager to find myself out of the city and back at Oakwell Hall until Summer comes around again. I have missed the place dearly, and the delights it has to offer in its walks and gardens. Christmastide there is always a wondrous thing.

Indeed, it is with that in mind that I find myself glad that you have come to approve of my friendship with Lady Adelaide, for I treasure our acquaintance above most things in this life. She has been a constant at my side all these years, and I should have hated to hear that you wished us to separate from one another’s lives. In truth, if I am speaking plainly, I am not certain I could have done so. She adores Christmastide. I have so many fond memories of our families’ gatherings between our two houses, in the depths of Winter.

As for your question regarding any feelings towards Lady Adelaide, beyond simple friendship. It would be ungentlemanly of me to reply in an honest fashion. I am sorry, but I cannot answer you. I hope you can understand.

Oakwell Hall has many wondrous forests and woods, and there is a particular trail that I have often walked. It is prettiest in the Autumn, though I rarely get to see it. The way the leaves change from green to bronze, and tumble to the ground in a rich blanket of deep color. It is most remarkable. There is an excellent lake close by that I often frequent, and many times we have skated upon it when the Winter has been particularly bitter and frozen the water to ice. Lady Adelaide is far more adept at skating than I, who tends to appear somewhat like a newborn foal. I have lost count of the amount of times I have fallen, though I enjoy it immensely. Have you ever skated? I know people like to skate on the Thames when it freezes over, but I have never been in London to do so. If you have skated here, pray tell me what it is like? Please, tell me of the walks you enjoy the most, where you are?

It cheers me to hear that you understand the way that I have been raised. I, too, can understand how alien they may seem to someone who is unfamiliar with these ways and dogmas, but it is all I have known. Even when I have felt affection in the past, I have not known how to express it. It can hurt, and is endlessly frustrating. I am learning, however. The only person who knows my true character is Lady Adelaide, I believe. I must apologize if I am mentioning her too much in this letter—I only wish for you to know her better. She is dear to me, and I hope she is dear to you.

Your words regarding friendship both please me and confuse me, Miss Green. Is that all you seek from me? Only, I had thought in your previous letters that there was more to our acquaintanceship than simply that? Have I misunderstood? If I have, I urge you to put it in plain terms. I shall not be offended, I only wish to know the truth. Indeed, friendship is a rather marvelous thing, and if I cannot pursue a romance with you, then I shall be more than happy to settle for an acquaintance.

My boundaries reach as far as they are able. I must have clarity upon your feelings before I may be free with mine. I am restricted, this is true, but I would move heaven and earth for the right partner, with whom I could share my life. If you no longer feel that that is you, you must tell me. Be blunt, be cruel, for it shall be kinder to me in the end.

I had not realized that your fortune had been perpetuated by your grandfather. He must have been a remarkable man, to forge such a formidable path for himself. I should like to hear more of him, and of your father. Does he still have business in tobacco? Has he visited the Americas? With such a trade, I imagine so. Might I hear more about it, if you would care to indulge me? Such far-off lands have always intrigued me.

It is funny that you should speak of woods with a babbling brook, for the image is a familiar one. I have walked in similar forests, back home in Yorkshire. There is one that surrounds the grounds of Kiveton Hall, where I have often enjoyed an afternoon in the brisk chill of Winter, and paused at a bridge to watch minnows darting below. It is a splendid thing.

I have similar memories of Christmastide, also. Indeed, one year, my friend and I made a snowman in the gardens. I used my own scarf to keep it warm, though I believe it had to be discarded once the sunshine melted the snowman. It had become sodden and had begun to molder. Not a pleasant image, but the act of building the snowman is one of my most treasured memories. I cannot recall what we used for its nose, though I believe it may have been a fruit. It is truly one of my happiest memories.

Your mother and father sound wonderful. I am as fond of my own. My father is a humorous, generous man with a fierce spirit and a protective nature. I do not think he likes that he is ageing. At heart, he is still a young man with the same vigor and strength of his formative years. My mother is sweet, gentle and kind, with a beautiful laugh that can cheer the soul. Most of the books that I have read have been at her behest, for she is one of the sagest individuals in all of England. Had she been born a man, I imagine she would have ruled the country. Blasphemous, perhaps, but it is true. My admiration for her knows no bounds. It has been my gift in life to be surrounded by ladies of similar caliber and sharp intellect.

I hope that I have the same strength and softness of character that you describe, even if you and I are not to wed. Such a thing would be an excellent asset, and I pray that I have those qualities. My family are the most important to me. I would do anything for them. Perhaps, that qualifies me… I do not know.

I am happy that your mother and father found fondness and happiness in their marriage. My own were lucky enough to marry for love, and so I suppose I have always hoped to be as fortunate. They met one another at a dance, and fell into a deep attraction upon the event of their first dance. It is the fairy-tale that many pursue. I know not everyone can be gifted with that most precious of things—love—but I have not given up on finding it for myself. I wish you love, too. If we are to be friends, then I pray that you seek the man of your dreams, and he is everything you have ever desired. He shall be a fortunate man, indeed.

If you were to marry another, I would not be jealous. If he made you happy, what reason would I have for jealousy? It is indeed the fault of the human condition that we cannot always have the things that our hearts desire, for I have known desire and seen it ignored. A fault on my own part, too, if I am honest. However, I would not feel envy if you were to discover true happiness. I would wish you only joy.

I also enjoy the idea of a fantasy romance, but I am far more logical than that. I know it cannot always be so. Sometimes, we are simply not intended to experience such fantasy. I accepted that long ago. I do not wish you to think that you are not dear to me, because you are, but your words have made me realize that you might find a union more fulfilling elsewhere. I long for that, on your behalf.

If your mother insists upon your finding a fortuitous match, I hope it may be with a worthy gentleman of good means, who can offer love as well as fortune. I resent the way in which young ladies are forced into marriages they do not want. They seek security and safety in the promise of dangerous men, and I hate that they feel as though they must. It seems wrong to me. A lady should be allowed to choose whomever she pleases, without fear of losing the solid foundation on which she stands.

Truly, it sickens me that you must be ushered onto a dancefloor before eligible suitors and are made to choose the most suitable. That cannot lead to happiness, I am certain. It can only end in misery and discontentment. I have seen a young lady endure such a match, and it breaks my heart. I know she is doing it for noble reasons, and yet I wish she would not. I wish she would understand that there must be better gentlemen out there, who can offer the same security. I cannot stand to see her hurt, and I believe her future husband may wound her deeply. It is my greatest sorrow that ladies are forced into this.

Apologies for ending on a somewhat negative note. Just know that it is my fondest wish to see you wed to a gentleman who is worthy of you. That is my wish for all ladies. However, as you and I have shared an affection, I wish it even more so for you.

Please, tell me more of the things you adore in life. For me, it is the simple things. It is walking, and reading, and enjoying a quiet evening with dear friends and family. It is sitting beneath a willow tree, listening to the fronds rustle in the light breeze. It is opening a new novel beside a roaring fire. It is eating and drinking in happiness, around a table of laughter and merriment.

I look forward to receiving your reply.

Fondest regards,

Lord Gillet

Adelaide re-read the letter several times, absorbing every word. She had never expected to find so much talk of her within it. It had taken her by surprise, leaving her somewhat breathless as she clutched it in trembling hands. He had spoken so fondly of their friendship and alluded to his own emotions regarding her engagement. She knew he did not agree with it, but only now was she starting to see the vehemence in his distaste for the match.

What does this mean? She wondered. She hardly dared to believe that his feelings matched her own, and yet there was much to be found in the subtext of his words. Am I the person he desired in the past? He said he could not answer her question regarding me—does that mean that he did feel something beyond friendship for me once? Her heart pounded in her chest as she mused upon the notion. She racked her brain, trying to find a moment that she might have missed.

What pleased her the most was his apparent resignation regarding his affection towards Miss Green. The entire purpose of these letters had been to let him down gently, but he seemed to be doing that of his own accord. She figured it would take one or two more letters and the task would be complete. Deep down, she knew she would miss writing to him like this. It had given her a means to explore her own feelings. As soon as it was over, she was not certain what she would do.

Truthfully, after the last letter had been written, she did not think she could be in Jasper’s company and pretend that she did not harbor an intense love towards him. Now, she had passed the point of no return. Once this was all said and done, she would have to make a choice—reveal her true emotions or separate herself from him until the feelings had gone.

Just then, she heard hooves pounding on the cobbles outside. Turning her gaze towards the window, she saw Jasper and her father come to an abrupt halt outside the house. He looked handsome in a long coat, his hair swept back by the wind. She always worried for him when he rode, for he was not an accomplished horseman. Fixing her gaze on him, she felt her chest grip tight. What has happened to me?

One thing was clear. She could not go on as she had done before.