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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:29:18 GMT
Dearest Diary--
Today was actually interesting for once. I've done something besides buy seed and plants, or help Lavender stitch new lace onto one of her gowns. Today, I met someone I could actually have a conversation with. He didn't make fun of my dancing even once; instead, he gave me gentle advice on how to count the steps of my partner, so that I could meet up with him at just the right time. It was lovely.
His name is Magnus, Lord Bornemouth. His father is even higher than mine, a duke, and mother was positively beside herself with glee when he asked me to dance. He's taller than I, with blonde hair and eyes that remind me of a fencer's blade: silver and sharp. His wit is sharp as well, I was scrambling to keep up with him some of the time. He said something like this:
"Lady Rosemary, I can't help but think you must be particularly favored by the pagan goddess Artemis."
When I remarked that I wasn't sure I could be favored by any pagan goddesses, seeing as I hardly knew them, he told me that didn't matter at all, for I was her spitting image! Can you imagine? Me, the avatar of a goddess? I must have been as red as the roses in my crown, because he assured me that he wasn't simply spinning pretty words, he thought that my height and my build, along with my connection to nature, were just the way Artemis would have looked if she walked the earth. He was so earnest, I couldn't help but believe him. I asked him if he too were favored by a Greek god or goddess, and he said that he was a devotee of Artemis himself--a hunter.
The look in his eyes when he said it! It gave me chills. I think I knew for a moment what a rabbit feels when looked at by a hungry wolf! I didn't think he would hurt me, though...it was more like he wanted to tuck me away into a dragon's hoard.
Goodness, even for the privacy of my diary, I've gotten carried away! It is almost reasonable that I should have my head fair turned by holding the attention of an Marquess for the night, and having danced not one but two dances with him. He even took me to get punch after our second dance, and Mother accompanied as our chaperone. He seemed a little less thrilled with her, I'll admit, but then, who isn't? I love my mother dearly but she can be quite exhausting.
Diary, I've never had an actual admirer before, especially not one my age. The last candidate that mother seriously considered was a widower earl three times my age. I'm not ready to jump to the wedding bells just yet, of course, but I think I'd best do some reading about Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt. We shall see...
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:29:31 GMT
Oh Diary, I think I'm losing my mind.
It's been a few days since the last ball, and while mother and I were out visiting Delphine yesterday, Lord Bournemouth called at our house and left his card! He's invited all of us: Mother, Nick, Lucian, Lavender, and I, over for tea on Saturday. Mother has already sent our acceptance--she did it before I even knew who the note was from. She's convinced that this is the start of something beautiful for me, but I'm hardly as starry-eyed as she.
I can't put my finger on it, and perhaps I'm being a pessimist as Lavender is so quick to accuse, but I just can't see why on earth he'd be the least bit interested in me. I realize that the daughter of an Earl is good standing for a Marquess's match, but there must be other Earl's daughters out in London who are far more cheerful and witty than I. Not to mention that they likely have better dowries! As one of four, my income will be limited, so far as Earl's daughters go.
Lavender knew my argument before I even thought it, and she has insisted that it is because I am the kindest, gentlest, and the most lovely girl among them all and that my virtue of modesty is so strong that it almost becomes a fault. She seems to think that men fall easily in love with wallflowers whose modesty makes them blind to their own beauty. Perhaps she is right because I certainly see no appeal in my boyish self. I am the frog amongst the princesses at any ball, and I've never mastered the witty flattery that others turn so well. I can simply be my honest, modest self, and hope that speaks enough good to secure my future.
Speaking of which; even father seems pleased with Lord Bournemouth's interest in me. He approved Mother taking us to tea, and actually commanded her to start planning an invitation of our own, to have Lord Bournemouth and his father, Duke Richmond, to dinner two weeks hence. He's quite frightened the cook by demanding that she find out what recipes are being served at the palace this time of year and then replicate them as best she can. I had to go in and bring her a bouquet of daisies to set her back to rights. She gave me a biscuit for my troubles, silly thing, and I gave it to Lavender.
I shall write again when we've had our tea, to record how things go.
I nearly forgot to write this down-----
I've read about Artemis, thanks to the library: Artemis was the virgin goddess of the Hunt and of the Moon. She was quite harsh to those who sought to ravage her and actually turned one hunter who tried to assault her into a deer...then let his own dogs tear him apart. I must be lucky to be 'in her favor' rather than be one of her enemies! I'm not sure I believe in such things even as faerie tales, but it is a lovely myth. I've borrowed a collection of other Greek myths as well since this one was so interesting. Next is Arachne, who became a spider, and the tale of the Golden Fleece. A golden fleece sounds like it would be too much work to spin, but then, myths don't have to follow logic.
Until next time, Diary.
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:29:51 GMT
Dear Diary--
They're all set on giving me a heart attack, I suspect.
Lucian was on his best behavior, Nick was Nick: nearly as quiet as me, but Lavender was with Mother in her quest to say All The Right Things about tea.
Lord Bournemouth and his father were surprisingly content the entire time. I thought certainly they must want to rip their hair from their heads listening to my Mother ramble on about tea cakes and sandwiches for each season of the year, but the Duke actually spoke with her about it quite intelligently. In the meanwhile, Lord Bournemouth turned his full attention to me. Lucian chimed in from time to time to save me from being in a conversation with a young man alone, but it was clear where his attentions lay.
I think I did myself justice in speaking about the Greek deities this time. I told him that I very much liked the story of Arachne, although I felt that the punishment was a bit harsh. He scolded me quite soundly, I'm afraid. Apparently, to compete with the Gods was a very grave offense, and Arachne should have been more humble--more like me, he said! I nearly fell out of my chair. I managed to agree, at least, that humility and respect for power were both practical virtues as well as spiritual ones.
Lucian and he made jokes about Dionysus, the god of Wine, which I didn't quite understand. They kept using different names for him, and some kind of maidens and a festival, so I'm afraid I gave up and just let them tease as they wished. Lucian seemed pleased to have someone keep up with his sassy nature, so it was fun to watch, at least.
After we had finished the tea, Lord Bournemouth asked Lucian and me to walk with him on the grounds. Lucian made a pretext of being terribly distracted with a hydrangea bush and got 'left behind' while we walked. Magnus asked me to grow something for him so that he could see what my magic was like. I was quite embarrassed, but I did manage to call up some of the daffodils that were just leaves this time of year. I gave a few of the new blooms, and even coaxed one set to turn white. He seemed impressed, although he didn't say much. He just looked at me with those shining eyes, and that same kind of hungry expression. I'm beginning to wonder if that look is something...well, something like desire. I've never had much experience with it myself, outside of novels, that is. He plucked one of the daffodils and put it behind my ear, and he let his other hand rest on my throat for a moment. I think it must have meant something, from the way he was looking at me, but Diary, I haven't the foggiest notion what it was.
I waited until he wasn't looking to let the daffodil grow new roots inside my hair's twist. It just seemed so sad, to let it be killed so soon after I brought it up. I'm sure he didn't think anything of it, but I can't help it. The flowers I grow are a part of me, you see.
We must have done well because the plans for dinner have been accepted. Two weeks from Sunday, they'll come over for an early dinner after church. We're to go listen to Jerrod's sermon, which I'm sure will be lovely as always. I love to hear him speak! I'll be curious to hear how Lord Bournemouth thinks of it since it will give us a topic other than tea or mythology.
Wish me luck, diary. Father is calling for me.
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:30:12 GMT
Diary, I had meant to leave you alone for longer than this, but I need to trouble someone with my thoughts, and it certainly won't be one of my siblings. I can't even imagine what kind of nonsense Lavender would whip up out of all this.
Duke Richmond has written father a letter...about me.
He's inquired about my habits and skills, my education, my hobbies, and my personality. He wonders if I have any other suitors. He used the word other in his letter. Other, meaning that Lord Bournemouth is one. I feel as if my spirit has left my body and I am simply watching things happen to this waiflike girl with the same hair as me.
Married, Diary? Me?
It's not formal, by any means, just an inquiry between acquaintances. But Father is taking it very seriously, and if he's taking it seriously, so must I. My fate is entirely in his hands.
God, wherever you are, please watch over me. I have never been so frightened. Just last week Alistair was asking me to promise him in my letter that I would not marry while he was away, and now Father is trying to arrange that very thing. Lord Bournemouth is certainly handsome, and intelligent, but does that truly make a good husband? I have no idea what he's interested in other than hunting and the classics.
What do I look for? What do I pray for?
I had hoped to find a husband that I might love, as silly as that may be, but it seems I might have to make do with a husband that I respect. God willing, I will be happier than my own parents.
I wish I could have promised him. I wish I knew what was coming next.
Lord, guide my steps. Counsel my father's decisions. Take us where we are meant to be.
I'll seek Jerrod's counsel tomorrow. Mother can't argue with me going to confession, and then I can speak with someone who can actually respond. I hope that Jerrod can carry God's message to me as surely as he does in his sermons. Perhaps then I might find some peace.
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:30:27 GMT
Well.
I felt better for about thirty seconds after I walked out from behind that little curtain. And then I made eye contact with him. He was there, waiting.
It was the strangest coincidence. Jerrod had just been reassuring me that all things would go according to God's plan and that I should try to approach things with openness to see what that might be. I walked out and...I think I ought to have felt happy. This is a great opportunity. Instead, I felt afraid.
Diary, am I being selfish? Am I being too self-deprecating? I simply can't imagine that he's interested in who I am. It's simply not possi-- [an inkblot takes up the rest of this line]
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:30:53 GMT
One startling interruption later, I have my answer. He has called on us and asked if I would show him the greenhouse. Father himself followed us out. I don't think I've ever been more anxious.
He noticed right away, of course. I have never been one for subtlety. But his reaction was...not what I expected.
He touched all the flowers with his fingertips softly today, like he knew what they meant to me. And while he was bending down to smell one of the roses, he told me that I needn't be afraid with him. He said that he knew I was honest, and he wanted to be honest with me as well. I told him he could, of course, and he hesitated for a moment before he told me that he thought I was lovely and kind, and that he'd like to see more of me.
"I think you're the kind of person who brings out the best in me."
And his smile!
Now I shall sound like Lavender, but his smile is enough to stop a girl's heart. Something about it makes me want him to smile for me always so that I can know I am the one who made him happy like that.
He knew I was flustered, and he laughed, but then told me just as fast he was not laughing to be cruel, but because the way I looked was the way he felt: startled and happy and warm all at once. He whispered it, like it was a grand secret. Father wasn't paying attention to anything except making sure the two of us weren't touching, so he was just being silly...but even so, it's a happy secret to have. We're still set to have dinner on that Sunday, but he's also arranged to take Lavender and I out shopping in the morning. He asked me what kind of shop was my favorite, but didn't let me answer.
"I know," he told me, and he waved his hands above my head like a street magician with a top hat, "You prefer...the book store. You would say a gardening store, but you already have every plant they have to offer, so you hardly go any more."
He was right, of course, down to the letter, but I decided to be picky about the ending.
"Not quite," I said, "I haven't bought any grass seed, so that means I haven't bought every plant they have."
It was a silly argument, of course, but it made him laugh. It was the first time I've heard him do so, and I thought it was quite pleasant. He looks so serious whenever we meet, I think he ought to laugh more often.
The sun was beginning to set, so father cleared his throat at us, and I was obliged to send him home. I think, however, that I feel a bit better. Tomorrow we shall go to the bookstore, and I shall find out what he likes besides mythology.
May God watch over me, Diary, just as the vicar says.
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:31:11 GMT
Dearest Diary,
I have a copy of Pride and Prejudice for myself now, and one of Sense and Sensibility as well, by the same lady. I'm quite looking forward to reading them. Although I must admit, I was a bit afraid to choose those out of everything in the shop. They are no Greek literature, and many men find the reading of novels frivolous. And beyond that, they are written by a woman. (They are prettily bound, though, the paper witch has done a tremendous job with the floral covers.) I was much surprised to hear that Lord Bournemouth thought nothing wrong with choosing those; he said that any reading enriches the mind through vocabulary, and that if they bring me pleasure and contain no impure themes, there could be absolutely no harm in them. He said that such love stories do not appeal to him, but only because he finds that the affairs and complications of real people are dramatic enough on their own. He was quite proud of himself for that one, and I laughed as well. I even joked that Lucian's life could fill a whole bookshop, which might have been a little unkind of me.
I also have a book of poems by Percy Bysshe Shelley, which Lord Bournemouth has gifted to me. He got two--one for himself and one for me, that we might both read them and discuss our thoughts the next time we meet. Lavender was making a face like she was going to be sick behind him, and nearly made me say something quite rude, but I managed to tell him I thought it a lovely idea.
Just before I sat down to record this, I received a note, sealed with purple wax, from Lord Bournemouth. It was a snippet of one of the poems, which he copied out:
"All love is sweet, given or received. As common as light, is love, and its familiar voice wearies not ever. They who inspire it are most fortunate, as I am now, but those who feel it most are happier still."
Lucian has laughed himself to tears when he snatched it out of my hands. He says that Lord Bournemouth must be smitten beyond all belief to choose something so cloying. But then, just when I thought he would poke fun at me forever, he got quite serious, and told me he wished me the greatest felicity.
Everyone has begun to act as if this is set in stone. Lord Bournemouth and I have barely been acquaintances for two weeks, and yet the whole world is convinced we shall marry.
This is not to say I would be unhappy, but should not we be surer than this? I have begged off from any further outings tomorrow by saying I must tend my plants, but truly, I need to tend my overgrown mind! I know not my own thoughts or feelings when it comes to this.
And I have realized something worse: it doesn't matter if I do. Father is the one who will make this decision.
In that case, I suppose I needn't try to choose whether or not to be happy, but rather find the things that I am happy about.
Today, I am happy that we have shared a book, that we have laughed and smiled. I am happy that he was kind to Lavender and to my mother. I am happy that he does not find me boring or silly. I am happy to have a chance at a future that might be bright.
I can be happy wherever I may go, so long as I can find growing things and someone who will treat them with care.
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:31:37 GMT
Diary it has been a week and a half since I've had anything important to tell you, but today I have an abundance of news.
First, and most dramatically, I am engaged.
I thank God that Lord B---- Forgive me, he has asked me to call him Magnus. Magnus asked me first, out in the greenhouse. He told me that my father had approved it already, that he had met him at the hunting club that the two are members of to discuss it, but that he wanted to make sure that I was not opposed before he made it official.
I'm ashamed to say that I had tears in my eyes from hearing that--not that he had spoken to father so soon, but that he had actually cared about my feelings in the matter. He didn't have to, and he knew that full well. He told me that he wants to make sure that I am agreeing to this myself, that I will be happy to be his.
I think that I am happy to be his.
We were left alone in the greenhouse this time, as the matter was private and...diary, he gave me a kiss.
I thought my heart was going to burst from my chest it was beating so hard. The first kiss was nice. The second...
Even writing it here makes me feel scandalous. The way he was holding on to me was almost rough. He had one hand on my wrist, so tight that he left a mark, and the other on my waist when he kissed me again like he really was trying to make me his. Just recalling it has me feeling slightly faint. I'm beginning to see why Lucian has spent so much time with women if it makes him feel anything like this did.
And so, I have agreed. Our engagement is set to be six months so that it doesn't appear we are rushing into marriage too early in our acquaintance in order to conceal something untoward. His father wants to host a ball at the next full moon to celebrate our engagement, and to announce it to the town. I tried to say that I needed no such fanfare, but Magnus has insisted that he wants to treat me like a queen, the way I deserve. How could I argue with such generosity?
He wants to choose my dress as well so that it might be a surprise gift from him, to celebrate our engagement. I agreed, again, because to argue with something like that would be rude beyond belief. I shall have to train myself to accept the lavish things he likes to give me if we are to be married. I've never been one to seek such demonstrations, but I'm starting to see that this is how he shows his feelings.
And so, diary, I go forth, engaged. The rest of the dinner was a buzz of planning, of the wedding, of the ball, of our lives from here on out. Everyone kept demanding toasts to the happy couple until we were all quite dizzy with champagne. I was careful to sip mine, but I think the server must have refilled it when I wasn't looking. Magnus asked me to walk with him out to the carriage, and I nearly fell down the steps! He caught me so gracefully you would have thought that he had done it by magic. IT was like something out of a faerie tale, to be swept up by the prince. I thought he would kiss me again, but his father made a comment I couldn't hear, and the two of us turned as red as tomatoes.
He promised that he will keep reading Shelley with me and that he will send me his favorite quotation tomorrow if I will send mine.
Diary, I hadn't thought to be so happy. But I am. I think this could be the start of something grand if I will only trust in God's will, and in Magnus.
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:31:55 GMT
No time to write, Diary.
This week has been a hurry. Lunch with Magnus. Walk with Magnus. Shop for a dress for Lavender to wear to our ball, with Magnus. Magnus appeared today with a bunch of Crocus bulbs for me to plant with my daffodils. He is staying for dinner, and I have only just had time to change when I saw you on the nightstand, Diary. Somehow I will record this whirlwind that is being engaged! I will want to know later, I should think!
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:32:13 GMT
Diary I think I shall die of embarrassment. Lucian has caught Magnus kissing me, and he is convinced that Magnus will have done something untoward if we are left alone together any more. We do nothing scandalous, not as Lucian does. We simply walk and talk, and Magnus tells me about his plans for the world, and how he will change Parliament by gathering like-minded people, and how he plans to improve the city by instituting more Police. And then, when he runs out of words, or when the sun hits my hair just right, that is when he kisses me.
Lucian stormed away, and Magnus said some quite awful things about how he had no right to get between a man and his future wife, and that it was up to him what he thought proper. I was frightened by how angry he was, and how tightly he held my shoulder. I shall have to be careful to wear a shawl these next few days, as I have bruises there now.
He apologized, of course, as soon as he realized what he had done, but it was like he had been a different person for a moment. He went and apologized to Lucian. Magnus was quite hurt by the accusations it seems, and he told Lucian that he means no harm, that he simply likes to express his affection to me and has a hard time doing so in words.
Lucian has calmed down, and the two have a truce, I believe. Magnus has agreed to be more withdrawn until we are truly married, and Lucian has agreed to speak with him privately about any other concerns he may have.
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:32:42 GMT
Diary,
My life truly is a faerie tale. I am Cinderella but my prince will not have to hunt me down because I am never without him. I have tried on my dress for the ball this morning, and the ball is this evening. The fabric witch who made it is a genius. The whole gown is red as a rose, with a wide skirt that makes me look like I have walked straight out of my childhood faerie tale book. She has given the dress neckline made of burlap, but the burlap is filled with soil and seeds, so that I can grow roses from it just before the dance begins, and they will be brand new and brilliant all evening long. I have a flower crown to wear as well, made out of the most delicate wire I have ever seen so that I can coax some of the red roses to grow around it as well.
I admit I am afraid to draw so much attention in the middle of a dance, but I certainly do feel beautiful in it, as I have never felt before. Magnus was there to watch his ideas come to life, and the way he looked at me reminded me of when we met, that sharp hunger I could not explain before. I have asked him now, and he says that to call it hunger is very close to the truth He would not explain more than that.
I must go, Mother is trying to convince me to wear some kind of new face powder she has imported from France.
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:33:31 GMT
What a night!
I have danced until I can dance no more and kissed until I can kiss no more. My dress was the most beautiful thing in existence, and my roses are still happy atop my chest as I write. I shall press a petal here for memories of my happiness. I have had at least three glasses of punch and I am quite lightheaded, Diary. I think I should be dizzy even iwthout the drinks, as Magnus spent all evening twirling me dramatically through dances and whispering to me that he cannot wait until I am officially his wife.
Everyone has said we are the most handsome couple they have ever seen, and that we shall be eternally happy.
When I thought I must faint from the heat and the punch, Magnus took me out to see the gardens on his estate. We stood under the moon and he called me Artemis, and he smelled the roses on my dress and in my hair before he kissed me. I had to stop him from touching them because he was too close and I...I cant' quite make sense of what happened. He was so angry, but then he was so soft... I don't know. I will try again in the morning.
Goodnight, Diary.
I am drunk on punch and I am drunk on beauty. I cannot think. I must sleep.
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:34:14 GMT
A pox on all punches! I can remember only half of what was said last night because I had drunk too much punch.
I remember that Magnus put his fingers under one of the roses, and I felt him touch my skin, so I tried to stop him. And he said something about how he couldn't be held responsible for wanting to claim such beauty for himself. I told him it wasn't right, that we should wait, and he grew quite scary. He told me he would do all things in their proper time, and that I should defer to his judgment. That I was an image of Artemis, but he was the God here.
No, that sounds quite silly. I must have dreamt up half of this from the punch and the moonlight and nervousness over him being upset. Anyhow, Lucian came to see us and found us sitting on the fountain as if nothing were wrong, and he practically carried me back to our carriage so that we could go home.
Thank goodness for Lucian, I might have made Magnus even angrier if we'd stayed. I don't know how I could bear it if I ruined this now.
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:34:51 GMT
Diary I haven't been alone in weeks. Every moment is filled with some kind of something for the engagement. Either mother is helping me to plan my household or father is asking about my diary or Magnus is here to take me off to do some wonderful thing like riding or archery, and then as soon as I arrive home again someone else launches me into some other preparation.
I think I shall be quite dull by the time the wedding arrives because I shan't have had a moment to think in peace for six months by then. But perhaps that is best--The Lord knows that when I am left alone with my thoughts I tend to turn them to the worst possible outcome. Magnus says that I must try to be more positive, and if I cannot be more positive, that I should simply trust him because he knows that I am intelligent and lovely and that I make him as happy as any man can be. He says I must not judge myself so harshly for being nervous, because this is my first time being married. And we both laugh because of course, it is both of our first time, so he cannot claim to be the expert! But I let him get away with it. It is far easier to let him take the lead as he likes, and I will glide along at his side like a happy little sailboat.
I have taken to wearing red more often, be it a rose behind my ear or a ribbon on my dress, to remind him of the party. He noticed and has teased me about it, but I could tell he was happy. He has made me swear I will not tell anyone else what they are for so that it can be our little secret.
He likes having secrets, I have noticed. Secret kisses and secret happinesses, little things to carry us through the long days of planning.
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Post by Miss Morgan on Jan 1, 2021 20:35:32 GMT
Diary I don't know what happened. I forgot a red token today, and Magnus thought it meant that I was angry with him or wanted to be free of him. I haven't seen him like this in ages. He was so cross that he nearly slapped me, although he caught himself at the last moment.
He apologized so much I thought he might cry, and he told me that he simply loves me too much and takes everything that I do seriously because of it. He told me that I do not have to wear a token for him every day, that he understands. He knows that I am his just as I have always been and that I am devoted to him whether I wear something visible or not.
I plan to do it anyway, however, but I have decided on a better plan: I have now a red bead bracelet with a little glass rose that I shall wear every day. I got a rose on a chain for him as well, so that he might carry one with him. I do not know if he will like it, but I hope he will.
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