Page 29 of A Lady's Beloved Novelist
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James found himself unable to focus on writing his adventure because Andrea was constantly surfacing in his mind. Putting pen to paper about such a thing just did not feel right when all he wanted to do was go and spend more time with the girl who was slowly capturing his heart.
He took out a fresh sheet of paper and decided that instead of writing his story, he would write a letter to Andrea. His mind was too filled with thoughts of her that he was not sure he would be able to do anything else until those thoughts were out and on a page. Though he was going to ensure that Cecil did not get his hands on any more of his letters.
Dearest Andrea,
I am writing because I wanted to further apologise for the behaviour of my unexpected house guest. Cecil is used to doing what he wants with little or no consequences, and we are currently engaged in a battle of privacy in my house as I write this. I do not want to talk about him too much, but I do just want to apologise on his behalf for the way he was acting on our walk.
Aside from that, I had a great morning spending time with you and hope to do so again very soon. But for now, I felt privacy would be more apt in the form of a letter. Here I can tell you whatever I want and I do not have to worry about any prying ears. I wanted to continue to tell you on our walk that I find your point of view very admirable and it is encouraging to me that you can stand up for yourself.
I understand we have many differences between us because of our sexes, but I hoped earlier today I was able to highlight some of the similarities.
Our longing for travel is something we share, but our responsibilities to our families are binding us to this small corner of England. Perhaps one day we could travel somewhere together, somewhere at least farther than London, or even Dover. I speak ambitiously, but I just wanted you to know that I hold your words very close to my heart and respect them wholly.
I look forward to our next encounter and hearing more of your thoughts.
Yours,
James
There was no point in re-reading what he had written. He would only find mistakes or alternative words and phrases that he could have used. Instead, he folded the letter and placed it back in his notebook. He was not going to look at it again until he sent it. The words represented his thoughts in that moment, and he was determined to keep them as authentic as possible.
*
Andrea could not keep the smile off her face as she stared down at the letter in her hands. There was no postage stamp on the letter, and so she knew James must have come to the main house’s postbox and placed it there himself. It was only a few hours since their walk earlier that morning, and Andrea was already craving the next opportunity she would have to see him again.
For the time being, she would have to settle with his words on a page, and that would have to be enough for her. She read over his words carefully a few times. She was used to skimming through books and reading at a fast pace to keep up with the action, but now Andrea was having to slow down to savour every letter.
Once Andrea felt she had absorbed the words into her mind enough, she placed the letter in the special drawer next to her bed with the other letters he had sent her. The pile was organised by date and they were all tied together with a pale, blue silk ribbon.
Andrea thought about responding to him that evening; her heart was fluttering at the thought of writing by candlelight to the man who claimed to understand her so well.
“Goodnight, dear.” Her mother’s voice caused her to startle slightly. Andrea looked up to see her standing in her doorway.
“Goodnight, Mother,” Andrea said, making sure the drawer next to her bed was closed fully.
“I just wanted to say that I heard you were seen with the marquess again today. I am pleased for you, I really am,” her mother said whilst managing a small smile.“I think that the two of you would be a strong match.”
“Thank you,” Andrea said, smiling. She could have easily fired back at her mother about how she was only supporting the match because of James’ title. But at that moment, Andrea felt far too happy with the letter she had received to make such a remark.“I hope our connection will grow into something promising.”
“Me too, dear.” Her mother nodded before taking a step back and closing the door.
Andrea sat on her bed and waited for the sound of her mother’s footsteps to disappear before she took her bedside candle holder into her hand.
She wasted no time in going to her desk and pulling out a blank sheet of paper. Her fingers gripping the end of her pen and she started to write out how she was feeling in response. The orange glow of the candle danced as it settled in its new position on her desk.
Dear James,
Your letters never cease to make me smile. I was so pleased to see that you wrote to me so soon after our meeting this morning. You have a way with words that I find enviable, and I fear my responses may feel inferior to the masterpieces that you have sent me.
But I will still try to tell you how I feel on this page. This morning was like a waft of fresh air, to hear that you understood me was perhaps the moment where I have felt the most valid ever in my life. You could share in my ideas and that was something that even my closest friend and family could not do.
Your life sounds incredibly interesting, and as I said in my last letter, I would love to hear more about your time away from England. I know this may be unladylike, but I would like to think by now you are past the shock of learning this about me. I would like to see you soon so you can tell me about your travels and all the journeys you have been on. I want to get to know you better and to spend more time with you.
I also want to remind you that I will not be giving up my reading habits and I cannot see the hunger inside of me ebbing any time soon. I ask again that if this is something you cannot agree with, I would advise you to save your energies for a woman who will not be so much to handle.
As ever, I long for your reply.
