Chapter Nine
You’ve Got Mail
Dear Marquess of Mayhem,
I must confess that I am not always the most dignified of ladies.
I do try, but my tendencies lean a bit more toward the exuberant.
Still, I do endeavor to treat those around me with kindness.
Or at least polite respect, until provoked into doing otherwise.
So I do find it both distressing and confusing when I am not treated in kind.
Why are people so heartless? A man of my acquaintance seems to delight in being cruel, and I cannot understand why.
We have distinctly different personalities, I’ll grant him that.
So perhaps we simply misunderstand one another.
Though for a man who hardly knows me, he does seem to know exactly what to say to wound me the most.
…
Confusedly and heartbrokenly yours,
The Marchioness of Millinery
My Dearest Marchioness,
Men, in my experience, often know not what they do.
And those that are more aware, and behave poorly anyway, are deserving of your ire.
I fear far too many people have more than a small streak of cruelty in them.
I am only sorry you have had to encounter such a person.
Sorrier still that I was not there to champion you.
Shall I challenge him to a duel? It would be my honor.
Simply point my pistol or sword in the right direction and I shall happily die defending my fair maiden.
I find myself feeling inordinately protective of you—an emotion I realize I have not yet earned where you are concerned.
Nor is it warranted, I am sure, knowing what I do of you.
You are more than capable of holding your own against any foe. Never forget that.
And before you protest that I do not, in fact, know you, I refute that unreservedly.
Whilst we may not know each other’s true names or appearances, this intriguing experiment of ours seems to have lent itself to a more intensive lesson in familiarity than I have ever previously experienced.
I know you, my dear marchioness. I know your strength, your decency, and genuine kindness.
Whoever this man is, he is beneath contempt and unworthy of your attention.
I pray you spend not a moment more on his sorry existence.
In any case, I heartedly apologize for the failings of my sex. I hope you were not too grievously wounded. If so, please inform me as to how I might remedy the situation. I am at your disposal and wish for nothing but to restore your good spirits.
…
Always at your disposal,
The Marquess of Mayhem
My Lord Marquess,
I fear you are correct. A great many people are cruel indeed.
Though I must decline your kind offer of a duel.
While I am flattered and cheered by your willingness to die for my honor, I could never live with myself.
No misspoken words are worth your life. Though I appreciate the gesture all the same.
Besides, wounded though I may be, it would be unjust to punish this man in so severely a manner (as I have no doubt you would win). For I myself am no saint, I assure you.
As for our experiment, I am much of the same mind as you.
As I find more and more often with every letter we write.
It is as though I am able to be my true self for the first time.
Without the demands of societal rules and the awkwardness of personal interactions, there is no need for anything between us but the strictest honesty.
One might think a friendship which exists only on paper might be necessarily restrictive.
However, on the contrary, it is as though we have finally been granted a freedom that has, thus far, been denied.
Though I cannot help but wonder if I should frighten you away should you be faced with me in real life.
I do feel as if I know you intimately. Though that hardly seems possible considering the entirety of our relationship has been with pen and paper as intermediaries.
Still, I know you, my dear marquess. I have experienced firsthand your intelligence, your humor, and most of all your kindness.
Your words, though they are but written, have the power to mend any ills in my life it seems.
And for that, I shall always be most gratefully yours,
The Marchioness of Millinery
Postscript—that name still seems far too grand for me. I am simply…
Your Very Plain and Ordinary Miss Millinery
My Dear Marchioness,
Nothing you could ever tell me would frighten me away.
Of that, I can assure you. As always, your letter has left a smile upon my face that rivals that of the cat in the cream.
I am delighted, though not surprised, to find we are yet again of the same mind.
As for the rest, you are my Miss Marchioness of Millinery.
And that is no simple, plain, or ordinary thing.
Though it is a mouthful. I believe I shall shorten it to Millie.
Assuredly still and always yours,
Marquess of Mayhem
My Stubborn but Most Appreciated Marquess,
I can only hope I give you no cause to regret your faith in me.
I can make no promises, though I can assure you my intentions will always be genuine.
As for my new name, I find it quite charming.
However, as you know, my dear Marquess of Mayhem, turnabout is fair play, yet your name does not as easily lend itself to a pet name.
Shall I now call you Mark? Or perhaps simply Mayhem?
…
Your Millie
My Dearest Millie,
You may address me as you like, so long as you do address me. My powers of mischief and chaos shall always be at your disposal.
…
Your Mayhem