A pressed vellum envelope arrived in the evening if April 9th, 1811 at Bridgewater House, delivered by a gentleman wearing a dark striped riding coat.
Instructed not to wait for a reply, the man went as quickly as he'd arrived - placing the envelope in the hands of a man named Chilvers.
The envelope was clearly from a lady, the scent of lavender and rose water following the paper like footprints leaving the indentation of intoxicating perfume behind. Simple, not overpowering - so like its wearer.
Along the front edge of the envelope was written "The Marquess of Emerson" in swirled jet black ink, clearly the hand of an artist. The envelope was sealed with scarlet wax, the imprint of the Newburry family crest, half visible at the angle it was pressed.
Inside the envelope, a sheet of paper unfolded to a simple letter in the same familiar writing.
I am obliged of your continued offer to be my escort to Almack's tomorrow evening. I understand you were to arrive with your carriage at that time and I will be ready quite promptly.
I shall stay for the very first dance, enough to appear before the Ton - as they deem it fit for their amusement - but shall have my groom arrive with my carriage shortly afterwards.
This favor you pay to me, Marquess, I am eternally grateful for - and I give you my good word that I should not take up too much of your time.
I find it the highest of respects that you should consider me as your friend, but advise this sentiment towards me be best kept to paper in fear of drawing unearned scandal to your good name.
Forever your literary friend,
Her name was signed carefully with the simple flourish that she signed to canvas and sculpture alike. Below her name was a single ink spot - perhaps merely an error. Perhaps a glimpse at her desire to write something more.