A verdict shall be announced tomorrow. I cannot predict the ruling, nor will I curse the outcome with a guess. If I am meant to live without fortune, I shall quit Atteberry and visit the Glas Family until I secure employment. Perhaps I shall offer myself as a teacher.
Lorelai believes Mr. O’Connor would offer me a position at the Royal Academy.
Blazes, I should get some rest before my mind stoops to dark places. I have not slept a full night in weeks. Lorelai gave me a valerian root tonic, but I doubt the remedy will help while I am anxious and horizontal on a strange bed. Against my better judgement, I rented a room at the public house so I can meet with my barrister in the morning.
I shall be fortunate to manage an hour of uninterrupted slumber.
I do not regret what I said in court, but my decision to speak posed threats to my case. For weeks my barrister told me to stay quiet and thus prevent surprise obstacles. I disobeyed him, and I may lose everything because of it. Whatever happens, at least I know the life that resides beyond this legal matter is mine, not the one Father designed for me. If I am to be penniless, then I shall earn my own wage.
Father’s expectations will not control me anymore.
Of course, without title and fortune, I cannot make you an offer of marriage. You deserve to find happiness with someone who possesses a home and decent means, for no lady should compromise her welfare. I refuse to prevent your comfort, so I shall withdraw my proposal if the magistrate rules against me. I want the inheritance for many reasons, most of which involve you.
I sent a message to 11 Great Pulteney Street. You may receive it. At least such is my hope. Our continued friendship surpasses my desire for courtship. I love you, and love surpasses all want in such a way that I could never have you and still feel at peace.
Your correspondence is my greatest aspiration.
We have found ourselves in an unusual predicament. I confess attachment to someone I met by chance, and you are likely reading my letters, a bundle written over months of searching. Thanks to you, I feel more confident in my ability to express such feelings.
Perhaps there was no moment in which I fell in love, rather a series of trips and tumbles.
Or perhaps you were a part of me since the beginning.
I best draw this report to a close and surrender my table to another patron. The public house appears busier than usual, perhaps due to the visiting militia. Arthur would have fancied the crowd, for he viewed such as an audience. He would have played his violin and ordered me to clown. I miss him, though not the headaches that followed our exploits.
He would have commended my efforts today, I’m certain.
Do not worry about me, Josephine. I shall carry on despite my misfortunes. I’ve read too many novels to believe in finality, for at the end of the story, there is a lot more story.
Yours ever,
Elias
October 1, 1821
Dearest Josephine,
The court ruled in my favour. Thomas Roch did not receive a penny of my inheritance, and neither did Admiral Gipson. Both men departed Atteberry, and I doubt they will return, for the locals seem vexed at them. Mrs. Dunstable reports a general displeasure among the townspeople in connection with my accusers. Granted, I do not bear any ill will. I am only glad to be liberated from the dispute. More than anything, I am pleased to renew my proposal for courtship.
Father’s wealth and properties belong to me. Never again shall a person question my claim, for the laws of England have deemed me the legitimate heir. I can now offer myself as a suitor without hesitation. Would you consider me? Although we are not well acquainted in the traditional sense, I find myself irrevocably devoted to you, so much so I cannot fathom a match with anyone else. To love you is to believe a dream, and what a tremendous risk—to give myself to a hope, an inclination that we were designed for each other.
I implore you to regard my proposal.
Without legal matters to address, my life seems close to normal. I write in my study, go on long walks, and read by the fire. Not much has changed at Cadwallader besides extra chores. I have spent the past few days shearing herds with the estate’s farmhands. We must finish the job this week so the wool has time to regrow before colder weather sets in. I also want to start lambing in a few months. Such a process dirties the wool if we fail to gather it prior.
Father would laugh if he saw me labouring in the shed, but I rather enjoy the work. It is honest and useful. The shepherds are decent men, and they treat me well. I wish to toil alongside them, not lord over them. Perhaps I am not a real gentleman after all.
Lorelai plans to leave Cadwallader once she makes travel arrangements. She intends to visit Mr. O’Connor in London despite her parents’ concern, for she expects an offer of marriage. She will stay with the Banes Family to avoid impropriety, a precaution which seems laughable.
Arthur’s relatives view decorum with the upmost indifference.
Since the court case, Lorelai has seemed in high spirits. She invites the farmhands to picnic with us and hosts dinner parties. When she tires of the house, she ventures to the shed. My foreman taught her to shear ewes. A poor decision. Now all Lorelai wants to do is help with the shearing. Indeed, Mrs. Glas would lynch me if she learned of her daughter’s new habit.
Mrs. Dunstable and Lorelai refuse to admit they have formed an alliance, but I am sure of it. Yesterday, when I returned from the pastures, they forced me to bathe in the kitchen yard, claiming my stench
