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~30 June 1813
10 Avalon Close, London

Dear Samantha--

Simon was a good man and a good husband, and he provided comfortably for me, for which I am grateful. If we did not marry for love, I did come to love him, and I do miss him.

Still, I suppose it is not speaking ill of the dead to confess that you are right: he never was the great, passionate romance I had longed for when we were young and concealing Penny Dreadfuls in our reticules to read by candlelight after retiring to bed, only to be caught and have them thrown upon the fire before we had the chance to discover how they ended! Therefore I have decided to take your advice to heart, in spite of your caveat. For I too, Samantha, wish to know how this tale shall end!

In keeping with that decision, when an invitation arrived only days after your letter--an invitation for Kate, Laura and I to attend a dinner party at Colonel Sheppard's London house--I sat down at once to write out our acceptance. It is not Atlantis, but I thought at least I might be able to satisfy myself (and you, of course!) regarding a few more of the rumours surrounding him.

The dinner party was set for Thursday last, with dancing to follow. I, of course, wore my standard mourning, but Kate looked stunning in a pale green crape, and miraculously Laura managed not to stain, tear, wrinkle or otherwise destroy her powder-blue silk. I do not know whether it was for my sake, or whether she has truly begun to mend her reckless ways, but for the evening she truly looked the part of a young lady.

Also in attendance were Mr. McKay and his sister, Lord Beckett and his mother, a Major Lorne whom I did not know, and a charming gentleman from Russia or somewhere thereabouts by the name of Zelenka. It was quite an intimate affair, and I assure you Kate and Laura and I were quite the envy of the Ton once word got about! Of course, society being what it is, a good deal of the talk was speculation regarding the nature of my relationship with John, and I will not pretend not to be injured by some of what managed to make its way back to my ears. What truly frightens me, though, is that it ought to have offended me a great deal more than it did. Truthfully, Samantha, I feel as though I were a great ship riding the crest of a wave that has no end. I am sure before the season is out, life shall have dropped once more into the trough, but I simply cannot bring myself to care as much as I ought.

I think it is quite probable that I am in love! Heaven help me when John tires of me, as I know he must for every other rumour has proved true--what else am I meant to conclude but that he is every bit the rake that gossip holds him to be? Yet if so, I cannot help but see what gives him such allure, for he treats a woman as though she were his equal or even his better!

Before I wander off on starlit paths and wind up penning you a Penny Dreadful of my own, however, I am sure you wish to know the particulars of the dinner party.

Very well, then, I shall tell you. It was not quite like any dinner party I ever attended, nor am likely to again, perhaps due to the presence of so many foreigners. And on the subject of foreigners, I must reveal that I have met the Native servants! They are a man and wife, with the rather remarkable names of Ronon and Teyla, and what is truly extraordinary is that they are not slaves, indentured, or paid servants. Rather they are friends of John, who came across the sea with him because they desired to see his homeland, and serve him because they possess skills that a man of his upbringing does not and it is their pleasure to do so. In spite of this--perhaps because of it--I have never seen a household better kept or more pleasantly so.

I must confess I half expected them to dress in skins and speak in pidgin, as they always do in the memoirs of great explorers. On the contrary, both speak English quite well, dress simply but modestly, and have mingled with the white man nearly all their lives. Truly, I felt myself ashamed of the conclusions I had drawn on so little evidence, but Teyla graciously pardoned me and thanked me for my willingness to look beyond my prejudice. Then she said something quite extraordinary, something I have not been able to remove from my thoughts.

I must ask you, though, before I reveal what it was, not to speak a word of this to anyone! What scandal John's attentions to me have already caused are nothing to the row that would result should it become known that he associates himself with heathens, for while Teyla and Ronon appear quite civilized, they are not Christians. Indeed, Teyla is some sort of priestess among her own people, believed to have strange powers, amongst them the ability to see the future.

And this, Samantha is what I find so remarkable, and what you must never reveal to another soul, not even your husband. Teyla told me that John came to her once, for counsel. His father had died and left his son his entire estate, but with the caveat that John was to inherit only if he returned to England to take possession of Atlantis and find a wife. It seems the elder Sheppard was not pleased that his son had not yet borne an heir of his own. John did not wish to be forced into a loveless marriage and thus was inclined to disregard his father's terms and allow the estate to pass in its entirety to a cousin. He sought Teyla's advice because she was the wise woman for her village, and she counselled him to make the journey--that it would not be in vain--because she had seen my face in a vision.

Can this be possible? Reverend Kinsey would say that Scripture calls such power the work of the devil, and I am wicked indeed to take such hope from it, but how can hope ever be wicked? I need hope now, for my heart is lost and will surely be broken if not for some miracle. It is said that God works in mysterious ways--is it not possible that he could work even through a heathen?

And here I have done it again; I have let my thoughts wander. You must think by now that I spent the entire evening conversing with the staff! Far from it--though that may have been the most remarkable part of the evening, it was not nearly the sum of it.

As it often does when there are many gentlemen at table, conversation over dinner soon turned to the subject of war, both that being waged against Napoleon and--dearer to Mr. McKay's heart, though of far lesser importance, according to Mr. Zelenka--the war in the Americas. I do not know if it was John's presence that emboldened me, but when Mr. McKay and Mr. Zelenka began to argue whether Mother England should attempt to reclaim her recalcitrant colonies or concentrate our efforts upon curtailing Monsieur Bonaparte's ambitions in Europe, I found myself unable to keep silent.

"While Mr. McKay has reason to be proud of his fellow colonists' success in repelling the American invaders, it seems unwise to have our fighting forces spread so thinly at such a time," I stated, nearly a surprised to hear myself speak as the rest of the party must have been!

To my even greater shock, they did not at once dismiss me as a woman and therefore necessarily ignorant of men's affairs. Rather, Mr. McKay turned to me and said, "The Royal Navy would be far more thinly spread were it not for the very seamen whom the Americans take such issue with our impressing. For all we know, they may support the French: it was them, after all, who enabled the colonies to win their ridiculous little rebellion. If we are to defeat Emperor Bonaparte, we must first subdue the Americans."

"Does it not support Napoleon's ambitions more to have half His Majesty's Navy occupied not in French waters, but across the ocean? For every American sailor we have impressed, we lose Englishmen daily in the attempt to keep them." I pointed out, suddenly grateful for my dreadfully improper habit of reading the papers in their entirety, not just the Society pages. "It also seems to me that a man fighting a war neither he nor his countrymen support would be more likely to desert, perhaps even turn traitor. Would it not be wiser to have sought an alliance with the Americans, rather than a conflict?"

"They sought the conflict, not us," John argued, but in despite of that his smile never faded, and I felt strangely as though he were proud of me. "I don't know that I'd go so far as to try to conquer the old colonies again, but McKay's people--not to mention Teyla and Ronon's--have every right to defend their territory against invasion."

"I agree with Mrs. Wallace," Mr. Zelenka spoke, only adding to my amazement. "Your Army and Navy are fighting two wars when one has already proved quite difficult enough to win."

"And I suppose you have a better solution?" Mr. McKay asked in a most impolite tone of voice.

"Diplomacy," I suggested. "Let each side voice its grievances, and see if a compromise can be reached. Rather than impressing sailors, impress upon the Americans how crucial it is to defeat Napoleon. Remind them also that it was the regime of the late King of France, not of Monsieur Bonaparte, who was their ally. Monsieur Bonaparte envisions himself as a new Caesar; why should he be content with the conquest of Europe, when he could reclaim territories that France has lost or sold in the Americas? Rome sought to rule the world--it seems conscionable that this new Caesar's ambitions would be no less grand in scope."

The debate lasted the duration of two further courses in a similar vein, and whilst it concluded with none at table persuaded of the other's position, when the remainder of the guests arrived after dinner, I had not only Mr. Zelenka and John, but also to my great surprise, Mr. McKay, approach me to thank me for my thoughts!

Perhaps the rare atmosphere of that dinner emboldened me still further, for after when John approached me at the first dance to stand up with him, I did not hesitate, but took his hand at once and held my head as high and proud as if I were never married and being courted by the Prince of Wales!

"I knew you had that in you," John told me once we had attained the dance floor--strange, how such a public place can be so private with the correct partner!

"Then you appear to know me better than I know myself," I replied, a little breathless. "I must confess I am amazed that none of the gentlemen of your acquaintance took offense at my boldness. At any other gathering, I should surely have been ignored or put down for involving myself in men's affairs."

"So would have another Elizabeth of note, in her youth," he pointed out with a smile. "And yet we look back on her reign as one of the greatest ages in the history of our Empire." His hand tightened on mine and correspondingly my breath tightened also in my throat. "Perhaps what England needs is another Queen Elizabeth."

His words sent a warmth through me that I cannot describe without resorting to language entirely too base and vulgar even for so intimate a friend as yourself. I could not help but marvel at them. "I must confess you are unlike any gentleman of my acquaintance."

"Even your late husband?"

I suppose I should have struck him for such an impertinent question, but something told me his intent was sincere and not to offend, so instead I told him the plain truth.

"Mr. Wallace was a good man, but he was a man like any other." I returned his smile. "Whereas you appear to be a man like no other."

His smile became an enigma, then, and his reply was equally a cipher in its simplicity: "Good."

There is little more to tell, except that as we had before, John and I stood up every dance together, and though I still saw the disapproving looks and whispers that followed us, I found it more and more difficult to give them any weight. Truly he has ruined me for polite society, and I know not how I shall ever go back to it. Fortunately, neither Kate nor Laura lacked for partners, so at the least their prospects have not been tainted by the odour of scandal. Of all that has transpired or might have transpired, I think that is the one thing I should regret.

It is quite late now, and I have spent far longer at writing to you than I ought, so before I find myself witness to the dawn without ever having slept, I shall close this letter and leave any other news--which truthfully, I cannot recall now in any event--for later.

Once again, I cannot express my gratitude for your counsel to follow my heart. It may lead me only over a precipice, but I have not been happier than I am now in all my recollection.

Thus I remain your devoted,

Elizabeth


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