Dear Violet,
I sincerely hope that you are well and… thriving… for I definitely am not in such a positive condition, nor have I been since last night (after receiving that fatal kiss; yes… that is what I have come to call it! For reasons which I will shortly enclose…) nor do I have any hopes of being rescued out of the misery that you have flung me into! Misery, I say, because I simply cannot find any other word that could describe the state that I am in right now; although there may be lots of proper synonyms that I could use for this purpose, but my mind is not in the condition to think of any such words at the moment, hence I hope you would forgive the lack of floridity in my letter and… no, that is not the proper word, I know! For as perplexing as these last hours have proven to be, I cannot deny that they have also been quite blissful… Ah! But what does it matter!? Words are the last thing that could possibly matter now! I haven’t had an hour of sleep last night, not even half of it! I couldn’t eat a morsel of food this morning and my stomach roars now with more ardor than that of Vulcan’s forge! That could perhaps be designated as the cause of the excessive drinking that I indulged myself in last night, this ghastly headache too, yet do you know why I drank last night like I have never had before? Do you know why I suffered from hours of guilt after an hour of hardly worth remembering pleasure in some the public house of Drury Lane? Do you know why I couldn’t even win one hand of Blackjack? Do you know why!? Well if you do, do tell me! For I simply can’t guess as…
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you; no matter what I am doing or where I am, when, etc… I can’t stop thinking about you and it is driving me insane! Perhaps to the point of…


To the point of writing pathetic letters!? Thomas asked himself quite angrily, and his ink stained fingers ceased their movement immediately, using parenthesis too! Hmmm… he stared at the letter for a few seconds and then tore it up as swiftly as one would destroy a revealing yet unfavorable evidence, and tossed it into the fireplace. What next? Singing serenades under her window no doubt! Hehe… chuckling tensely, Thomas removed himself from his desk and went to the window. It was still raining outside. He ran his fingers through his unkempt hair several times while gazing absentmindedly at the weeping windowpane, before all of a sudden setting out to hastily put on his clothes and heading out of the mansion...


A few moments later he was sitting inside the same black landau as yesterday, although the driver was not the same as before, and on his way to Curzon Street where he now knew that he could not keep away from until he had found the answer to all the constant bewilderment he had been experiencing in the preceding hours.
Scarcely had the carriage stopped that Thomas rushed out of it and towards the iron gates of the house that he knew to be Violet’s residence. The door might have been rusted or they may have simply forgotten to lock it, whichever the case, with a simple push it opened and he stepped inside. The bedrooms usually face the small courtyards on the back of the house, he thought, or at least this is the case with houses of this style… from the three windows that opened to the backyard, Thomas guessed the one behind whose open curtains columns of books could be observed to be Violet’s. Feeling quite embarrassed at having to indulge himself in such schoolboy acts, he picked up a couple of pebbles and began throwing them at the supposed window of her room…

White and rigid, smooth as marble and hard as diamonds, seemingly endless sheets were wrapping themselves around Violet’s body, her numb, somnolent turning only worsening the grasp. She felt cold, yet within an atmosphere that couldn’t help but feel suffocating and hot. And at the tip of her nose, the girl felt humidity in the air. Her eyes were closed, but she could still very well see all that was around her, and she saw tattered white.
There were noises that made up silence, and the air she breathed in didn’t exist. Eventually, the white gave birth to a new form of blackness, and within that world of existential nothing, an alien entity pierced in the form of rain, which tapped down on the surface of the hard material that was her cocoon. It beat down slowly and stubbornly, until it became more present than the sheets themselves.

That was when Violet opened her eyes, annoyed and frightened at the interruption of her dream. The sheets weren’t real, but the rain was... Or whatever was beating at her window. The more she listened, immobile and tense, the more the youth realised it was much tougher than ever rain could be.
Her tired body dragged her out of bed unwillingly, and her naked feet fell heavily on the floor. She rubbed her eyes... Violet couldn’t see herself, but she knew them to be swollen and tired. She had fallen asleep at 3 in the morning, after hours or turning around in her bed or sitting up straight and staring at the night outside, crying away her sour luck at the pillows and duvet. Every once in a while, Violet’s misfortunes reached a pinnacle that demanded to be expressed and vented, and so she waited until nighttime when she could be in her room without a chance of anyone disturbing her, and sob as silently as possible so that no one could hear and intrude. And the next day, like that day, the girl would wake up looking awful...

And just like every morning before, when she woke up she generally felt better about things, if even a little, and felt that they were slowly being forgotten. What joy to find that there was something to occupy her mind that morning – the tapping at the window. Perhaps it was a bird, she though; looking for crumbs to eat... The thought delighted her, but as soon as Violet reached and opened her windows, her red rimmed eyes fell directly upon a man standing in the house courtyard.
With her hair a wild mess, a livid face and eyes opened wide in shock, a revolted Violet hissed down at Lord Thomas Sterne.
“What the devil are you doing here?! Go away, you wicked lunatic! How dare you.....”

Upon hearing Violet’s voice, Thomas opened his mouth to speak yet no words came out, hence he closed his lips as quickly as they had been parted. For the following moments, he merely looked at her, at times frowning, at times gazing at her wild hair absentmindedly, and all the while walking rapidly in circles on the glistening cobblestones in the manner of a beast that is imprisoned in a cage. He seemed to take little notice of the heavy rain in whose embrace his trench coat, perhaps other articles of clothing lying in its care, and of course his hair were now soaked – for he had forgotten to put on a hat. From time to time he came into a halt and tilted his head towards the young maiden at the window, suspicion beaming out of his eyes, and stared at her as if questioning her upon something. Then he would shake his head and recover his perturbed stride one again.


At length, however, his desire to know the truth ruled out his indecisiveness and standing in a firm pose beneath her window, Thomas lifted his head up towards her and stated in a calm yet demanding voice:


“Put on some clothes and come down immediately. My carriage is waiting outside. There is something I need to talk to you about.”

Violet blinked. She was confused, as it was a rather confusing situation. Or at least, a new one. Granted they had only met the day before, but it already felt as if they had known each other for weeks. And never in those few imaginary weeks had Thomas ordered her about. Not in that fashion, anyway. Nor, for that matter, had he looked so appalling and... quite frankly, insane. The girl watched him walk about, wondering what in the world had happened.

For a brief moment, she felt alarmed. Had someone seen them? Did her mother know? What situation was so dramatic that it required he confusedly go to her house, sneak into the courtyard and tap at her bedroom window with pebbles, waking her in the middle of her sleep - for at that hour in the morning, Violet had only finished half of her sleeping program - , and be so reluctant to speak to her unless she came down and, apparently, accompany him to his carriage.
She didn’t take orders well, most of the time... But the situation seemed to demand obedience. And after all, Violet could hardly imagine herself denying the request, which was an odd fact, especially given it came from Thomas.
The girl didn’t say anything. She bit her lip and frowned at him, but didn’t say anything before she slipped back into her room and washed, brushed and dressed as fast as she could, in the simplest dress she had at her disposal.

Within 15 minutes or perhaps more, Violet was practically flying down the stairs as silently as she could, and slipped out of the house before any of the maids could see her. She entered the courtyard while holding her dress a trifle higher off the ground, but she didn’t mind the rain otherwise. Her face was somehow more rested than when she had looked out her window, but just as furious.
“What? What is it? ...Is something wrong?” There was a slight note of worry in her voice as she confronted Thomas, but Violet’s smouldering eyes and the ruthlessly thin line of her mouth wished to prove otherwise.

“Yes, something is… no, not something…” taking Violet’s arm, Thomas proceeded to led her out of the courtyard, “everything is wrong! And, by Jove, if…” nonetheless, he came into a halt, glanced at the young woman for a second and instantly taking out his trench coat, he held it around her slender figure and above her head, to protect her from the rain that he had apparently come to take notice of only at that moment. In doing so, however, he subconsciously or perchance deliberately forgot to continue his speech.


“Hyde Park,” he told the footman, yet no sooner than the words had flied out of his mind that he changed his mind, “no, no! Just go somewhere… anywhere! Keep driving…” leaving the puzzled driver to decide their destination, Thomas entered the carriage, taking his seat in front of Violet’s, “thank you for, hmmm, accepting my invitation…” he went on, addressing the young lady, and then he fell into a rather prolonged silence which lasted as long as the landau had passed a few buildings and streets by, all during which his eyes were fixed upon her, “did you have a pleasant night?” he spoke eventually, in an unexpectedly calm tone, “did you sleep well?” smiling rather sarcastically, Thomas raised his left eyebrow, “at all?”

“That is why you’ve taken me from my house?!” her furious answer came. She had jerked his coat away from her ungratefully, and now stared at him as aggressively as could be conceived.
“I slept beautifully!” the girl shouted. “Thank you! Now why that smirk, hm? Why the tone? I agreed to come down, I never said I’d go anywhere with you...
Why don’t you ask about the weather while you’re at this pointless conversation?!”
The girl crossed her arms and glared at the man, breathing heavily of fright and anger.
“And to think I was worried... To think I stupidly cared.” Violet stared at the black, drawn curtains, shaking her head in the fashion that displeased parents do about their children, so not to compare the situation with that of a married couple – which would as well be a fit one.
She could hear the rain falling outside, and it pleased her. Violet loved the rain... The simple knowledge of its close presence was enough to calm her slightly for what she said next.
“What is it already? What do you want?” She looked at him, still frowning and taking a serious stance, though her manner of speech was verging on the childish.

“The weather!?” spoke Thomas with a feigned indifference, sarcasm still dominating his overall tone of speech, “why should I ask about the weather when I already know how it is?” having said this, with the smile still playing on his lips, he drew the curtain aside a bit and tossed a glance outside, “still raining… though, if it pleases you, I could of course ask the question…” he could not guess whether he was uttering all those nonsense merely to avoid engaging into the conversation that he had intended to carry out with the young woman, or if he simply wished to fuel her anger. Yet she looks even more enticing when furious! Thomas thought, a mysterious glint sparkling in his eyes, what!? Ahhh, no matter how… it always ends up… bah! This is getting out of hand! This… imbued again with the sentiments that had resulted in his not entirely rational actions as of late, Thomas frowned, the smirk disappearing from his face, and turned to Violet:


“It doesn’t seem that you have slept well last night, though you need not be embarrassed,” all the while he tried to keep as relaxed and poised, “I also happened not to pass a very restful night, and I was wondering…” at this point, however, he felt he could no longer keep within the turmoil that had been ever present in his mind since he had seen her last, “do you know why I possibly haven’t been able to stop thinking about you from the moment we parted!?” as he went on, his tone increased in its volume and agitation, “what have you done to me!?” leaping forward, Thomas clasped Violet’s arms and drew her near, staring into her eyes almost beseechingly, “tell me, Violet, what is this?” this time his tone was calm, as was his unfathomable gaze.

“This...” the girl started, violently shaking away his hands from her, “is you being a child! It is you being... sick, ill, insane... A fool.” she spat. Immediately she did so though, Violet regretted saying it. Panting, she fell back into her seat and stared intensely at the man.
“I haven’t done anything to you.” the girl continued with a calmer demeanor. “You are the one who keeps coming to me and... doing things. Like now. This is nothing but a game born of boredom, isn’t it?” Yet boredom at 6 in the morning seemed a bit extreme... Violet said no more.
She especially said nothing about the signs of her insomnia, as she was especially embarrassed; despite his encouragement.
He seemed calm enough... Very much so, more than expected. Which was why the girl didn’t even doubt he was playing some game. Well... she did doubt. But was not going to let it get the better of her. Somehow, Violet still believed she could control and very well know when she was being lied to and deceived.

“If it was merely out of a sensual desire…” Thomas began, speaking softly and still in his former position as if there had been no violent demonstration acted by the young woman, “then it wouldn’t have…” and then he went on thinking to himself about how he would have or wouldn’t have felt if his attraction towards Violet was solely out of lust; nevertheless, having found himself lost once again in the same perplexing state as he had been only hours ago, Thomas shook his head to disperse the confusing ideas that kept emerging in his mind and leaning against the back of his seat, he retreated into a brooding silence once more, while occasionally tapping his fingertips against each other.


“It pleases you, doesn’t it?” he stated all of a sudden, looking at the young lady through his narrowed eyes, “to claim that it is I who have been doing all the things, hence assuming yourself entirely irreproachable … it is often so when it comes to your sex; why should it be any different with you!?” despite being well aware of the unfairness of his attack on Violet’s gender, Thomas thought this the only way that he could possibly triumph over his emotions; yet, scarcely had he convinced himself to start this debate that remorse took hold of him, for there was something in her eyes that penetrated deeply into his heart and he could not but blame himself for having spoken so cruelly, “I’m sorry, Violet, I didn’t meant to say those words…” averting his eyes towards the cabin’s window, he took a more comfortable position on his seat, “you ask me if this is a game? How should I know!? I came to see you this morning to find the answer to the same question, and the more I search for it the farther it withdraws from my grasp. Perhaps, you are right; perhaps I am being a fool!” turning to face Violet, his eyes once more ablaze, he added rather sternly:


“I am going to take a walk. The driver will take you home, should you desire so,” having said this, he pounded his fist a couple of times beneath the ceiling of the carriage, which afterwards came into a halt.

“You don’t have to go...” Violet started, suddenly becoming alert and looking compassionately at the man. “It’s still raining outside. Don’t run away... You’d be a coward too, like me!” She bit her lower lip... The situation was suddenly precarious, a rather high feature for something as trivial as a man leaving a carriage.
“Let’s discuss things... You came for answers, or so you say; but you should have looked inside, shouldn’t you? Why would you think I would know anything about how the male mind works? Yours, especially... You should have looked for an answer from yourself, not from me. Willing or unwilling, I didn’t do anything! ...Well, I suppose I could’ve if it was unwilling. But still, I didn’t mean it!
It... you... You’re awful. You’re awful, but it must be... that... thing... Because it can’t be love because there is no such thing! Or if it is, it doesn’t exist between a man and a woman. People only marry for... well, that, and money and title. And because they’re stupid.” At that, she made a face and leaned back in her seat. Looking at Tom, Violet was beginning to ‘believe his lie’, she put it to herself. After all, it must have been a lie. In her eyes, he was not a sweet and caring and sensible man as she saw him in those moments. But it was a good lie... One worth falling into.
“They’re stupid because marriage makes everything allowed, and that is only interesting when illegal, and it makes everything moral and that is only interesting when immoral. And they die and can’t have the money forever, and their title is written on stone and no one reads it then. And they pass it to their children who are rotten and ignorant brats that can never be as good as their parents want them to...
So stop being confused... And stop acting like a madman! It’ll pass... Jus’ don’t do anything silly while you’re crazy. Like... like walking out while it’s raining and leaving me on my own.”