Eleanor blushes as she recalls that today is indeed Valentine’s Day. Yes, she has received a secret love note from someone, but she does not know who it is. Most definitely, she hopes ’tis not from that churlish Lord William, he of the spittle-flecked lips. She shudders delicately. One thing she does know — ’tis not from Lord Hugh, that dashing, arrogant neighboring lord, who is bound and determined to bring her down. Ah, but what a turn of phrase — she has misspoken! She blushes even more hotly. How she wishes he would send her a valentine — but, he cannnot know or guess the feelings that rage inside her. How could he, she being the model of decorum and deportment, and he being so sure of her naivete and malleability? Besides, if he were to send anyone a valentine, ‘twould be her younger sister Mary, whose hand he has asked for in marriage! Eleanor gazes out the castle window at the chase lying beyond. Would that she and Lord Hugh could hunt together there…on Valentine’s Day or any day. What can she do to resolve this dilemma?
*Valentine courtesy of Lady Cassia DeWarren — my thanks, Milady! 🙂