Chapter 3
Sir Christmas,
Milne Manor is abuzz with activity. We are in the midst of breeding season.
Papa has always wanted to rear horses, and he promised to purchase one of Zeus’s offspring for me.
He insists riding will be a brilliant distraction and hopes the activity will keep me from requesting information about you as often as I do.
Foolish man! Little does he know, I promised no such thing, and I never shall.
In you, I place all my hopes and dreams.
The Hoy and Anchor Inn’s foundations were compromised in January and the old vicarage has replaced it.
Occasionally, I think back on our childhood and the years that passed by without either of us being aware that we’d one day pledge our love to one another.
So much time wasted . . . Sometimes I find myself wondering what our lives would be like if we had married two years ago instead of waiting for the right moment.
It grieves me, my darling, that I cannot be by your side.
Thus far, no letters have arrived to console my vanity.
I cling to any news the Admiralty relays to your mother and father, knowing that your letters may have become lost in transit.
How I long to hear your voice once more, to see you arriving by steed or coach.
Perhaps you will be given shore leave after the French fleet has been isolated along the Biscay Coast. Until then, I shall pray for your safe return every day.
Your Emma