My Darling Duke

A most wonderful bouquet of flowers, this time bluebells and lilacs, arrived with another of his infuriating letters.

Dear Katherine,

I enjoy the color blue. It feels warm. It sounds warm. And reminds me of your smile.

Alexander.

Several days passed, and then at least eight letters came in a packet, as if he had written one daily but sent them together. She couldn’t help realizing that she had claimed to the ton when she had spun her falsehood that he had wooed her through letters and poems.

Are you wooing me, Alexander? she silently demanded.

Slowly, with shaking fingers and a pounding heart, she untied the blue ribbon holding them together and read the first letter.

Dear Katherine,

I miss our friendship, and I find myself wheeling out to our tree to simply sit and remember our foolish antics. I’ve been cloud watching, and I am astonished to say I noticed a twenty-set orchestra playing in the skies recently. I find that I miss your laughter and your smile. I daresay I even miss your impudence.

Alexander.

She read it twice before folding it closed and then opening another.

Dear Katherine,

Last night I dreamed of you. We danced and danced under the glittering candlelight in a large ballroom. We were the only people there, and you were resplendent. My heart wept when I woke and realized it was but a dream.

Alexander.

Dearest Katherine,

Her breath hitched at the change in his salutations. Somehow the duke now greeting her with a “dearest” felt sweeter…gentler, as if he had said “my beloved.”

She lowered her gaze to the body of the letter.

Last night I wished upon a star that streaked through the cold night air. Only my friendship with you could have inspired such foolhardiness.

Alexander.

Dearest Katherine,

Penny gifted me with a piglet today. I am not entirely sure why she believed this to be an appropriate gift, but my piglet, so adorably named “Hattie,” reminds me of you.

Alexander.

That letter had made her splutter with outrage and laughter; then she had wept. Other times he wrote her lengthy letters that made no promises and revealed nothing, but she read the words several times.

Then she had replied:

Dearest Alexander,

I pondered this for a bit, and I am at a loss as to how Hattie brings me to mind.

Katherine.

Her response was quite succinct, but she could not bear the notion of showing her heart any more when he did not speak of love. His reply had come so swiftly, she imagined he had several footmen waiting with horses, always prepared to send his response. The very idea made her heart ache but brought a smile to her lips.

Dearest Katherine,

You share a similar impudence. Hattie does not realize she is a piglet and insists on sleeping in my bed.