To say that I have been somewhat distracted of late is more of an understatement than I care to let leave my lips. I shall not apologise nor make false promises of never leaving you again - the inevitable end shall only be postponed - but it is not this day.

Where to begin?

My dearest Misha had previously questioned my wavering fidelity to the blonde Esquire what with his determined patriotism to Queen and country. I cannot utter the words I'm sure many of you are longing to hear - I cannot tell you that we are still sickeningly content, rolling around in the bed sheets, moaning with an intoxicating pleasure, for it is no longer true.

The blonde Esquire and I have parted ways. His time was never actually his to call his own, and though I made a promise to try - and try I did - I cannot tolerate coming second to an entire regiment. Nor the King. Nor the country. If someone loves me, they have to put me first, and that was an argument I was never going to win.

I have accepted the termination of my relationship with the blonde Esquire - at least his Mother can no longer plague my life - after all, it was originally based on a lie.

What next?

The summer is nigh and I have had correspondence from Belle that she plans to attend a Convent again this summer, but this time she wants to venture away from the Shire and travel towards the Capital. I have yet to give her my answer, though I know that my season is coming to an end. The Duke's sister has gone on her own Grande Tour of the Continent and I know the brunette is exploring her more Sapphic tendencies in the Eastern world.

I too need a change of scenery.

The seaside beckons. I ventured to the pebbled beaches on the Southern Coast a few weeks back and fell head over heels in love with the sights, smells and sounds of the sea. It hasn't the grandeur of the Antipodes, but there is nothing so quaint as the English seaside.

While gallivanting at the breaking waves I had the utmost desire to strip off all my clothes and delve into the Channel. It would have caused such a ruckus, and no doubt I'd have startled the many bystanders, but I have a craving to do something wild now that I'm free and have regained my independence.

There was one other reason than societal convention that I kept my dress on that day; I would have been witnessed by a tall, dark haired spectator. One who seemed able to read my indecent thoughts, and gave me a daring stare. I was quite caught off guard and knew not how to respond. Thankfully I saw sense to keep my clothes on! I would not want a repeat of Iberia two years ago!

But for now I shall enjoy the time I have on my own - sometimes there is nothing more that I want than to be alone - and make my 'grown up' decisions when I believe the time to be necessary.



D. S.

I guess nothing says more about a relationship than your first argument...

Can you remember what your first argument with your lover was about? Or even the last argument?

It's getting through the heated discussions that counts ~ the anger and resentment will either simmer down or boil over and either way it will be forgotten in the years to come. For I do plan on being in the blonde Esquire's life for years to come, and this first argument will be the first of many, and with every argument will come the apologies, and with every apology will come the promises and then the furore of sweet love making.

This particular argument started because of a hangover. Apparently I need to make better choices and decisions (who knew?) and start being more sensible... In fact, some could say that I need to 'grow up'. And yes, that would be a direct quote from the blonde Esquire's most kissable lips.

What makes the whole confrontation so much worse, is that he is right. I do need some direction and guidance, I need to take responsibility for my actions and deal with the consequences, and I need to learn to say 'no'.

But the more I get told everything that I already know... Well, the belligerent child in me wants to throw her toys out the cot, cross my arms and blow a raspberry.

I couldn't plan what my future holds even if I wanted to, because there are too many variables. I thought I'd have followed my heart back to the Antipodes by now to be with the Captain, or at least continued with my teaching and become a governess.

My life is ruled by inconsistencies  and all I have to hold on to right now is that the blonde Esquire may love me, but that is not going to stop him leaving me. I am slowly coming to terms with this, but even I do not know how I shall react when he finally leave and I have six with to contend with myself and the temptations around. There is no other that I want, and I shall strive to be pure; distance is not an excuse, nor time an invitation, but I am only human.



D. S.

I've been home for nearly two weeks from the blissful reverie that was Rome and I believe  I am still most rested and content. For the first time in months I feel I can handle what the future holds, even though there is still a lot of uncertainty as to what direction that may be.

All I know is that I have to cope with the heartache of having the blonde Esquire leave me for the army, to be a soldier, to go wherever he is told. To think that this whole relationship started as a farce, as a joke, and now I wait for the moment that he leaves me, as I left the Captain, with the promise of return... To never forsake what it is we have.

I loved the Captain with an innocent, naive charm; he was a comfort, a tease and so unobtainable I could barely think straight when I saw him. The blonde Esquire is altogether a completely different love. It was unexpected and has been built on a friendship based on trust, despite the tryst he proclaimed to me all those months ago. 

The love I feel for the blonde Esquire is something I completely marvel at because I have no idea where it came from as it was not the desired result. We were to end, that was our purpose. Yet now I can think of nothing more terrifying than to have the blonde Esquire leave me, which is exactly what is to happen.

I do not have a choice in the matter. My choice lies with what to do while the blonde Esquire becomes the hero that I know he can be.

Shall I stay with him, learn to cope with the distance and wait for his fleeting return?

Could I really bring myself to leave him when all he is doing is pursuing a soldier's life, making the world a better place?

D. S.

Roma!

What words are there to describe the city that is the catalyst for western civilisation?  I was completely blown away by the size, the gargantuan architecture and the incomparable history that Rome has to offer.

The Colosseo, the fontane de trevi,  the Vatican... I was stunned into silence at the magnificence of it all. How can one city hold so much history? I adore that love and passion rule all there is to Rome - mothers, fathers, brother and lovers killing and dying for their right to sovereignty. There is so much to learn from all Rome - despite, or rather in spite of its own trials and tribulations, and a chequered past that can rival no other, Rome has survived its own evils and lives on.

The blonde Esquire and I roamed the streets, discovering tiny back alleys that gave way to churches and halls, columns and fountains, arches and domes. Each of which had its own personal and detailed history, whether by its raison d'etre or because of its creator- Leonardo Da Vinci, Michaelangelo, Gian Lorenzo Bernini. 

Falling in love is what walking through Rome feels like; every step and your breath gets snatched away as you fall deeper and deeper into the abyss that is completely beyond your control. I fell head over heels in love with Rome, and the blonde Esquire? He was there, every step of the way, holding my hand, staring into my eyes, wrapping his arms around me as I failed to utter complete sentences, awe struck by Rome.

Darlings if you ever get the chance, go to Rome, fall in love with Rome. It may be my favourite place on the whole Continent, and the fact I got to share every moment with the blonde Esquire only makes me love it so much more.

D. S.

A glorious Easter Sunday dictates sunnier spring climes and a look to the future. I hope the weekends festivities have not left you longing for more, but have rather sated the deficit of Lent. I am pleased to announce that I succeeded in my aim - not a single (nor pair) of shoes were purchased in the last six weeks, and too did I abstain from overindulging my appetite. 

But of course I am now free to invest in the perfect pair of shoes, and indulge to my heart's content.

There is no doubt in my mind that I shall have a spending frenzy when in Rome, for 'when in Rome...' 

I have not seen the blonde Esquire for a few days - he was called away to a wedding and I was uninvited. A little put out is all I shall say on the matter, for I know it was out of his control to invite me. And after our rather frank discussion the other day there is no doubt in our minds that marriage is a long way off.

To think that the basis of this relationship started with the bluntest of proposals - albeit a tryst to engage in a rather intrepid game of lies and deceit - has come full circle. I have fallen for him, I do love him, and here I am having to wait for the blonde Esquire's career and life long opportunities to be over before I am put first.

I think I'd worry about it less if I had a goal of my own... I can play the piano, sing and sew, I love children and teaching and am willing to have open discussions about politics. I can make people feel comfortable in any situation and I know how to host a Ball that will be talked about for years to come... But what can I do?

While the blonde Esquire still has a month before he becomes a man at arms and languishes in my bed, I have little time to think of my own future. But I know once he leaves that idle hands are the devil's play thing, and I do not want to succumb to the temptations of the flesh. Therefore, I need a goal. I am ambitious, I want more... But that 'more' has no definition, and I do not currently know how to find it.

I'm hoping that Rome shall be my inspiration... Or indeed if anyone wants to include me in their plans, I'd be most grateful.



D. S.