Dearest Molly,

I met him again today.

It was a chance encounter on the grounds, a meeting we hadn't prearranged. I would be lying if I said I didn't make a complete and utter fool of myself for the fifteen minutes we spent together.

Nothing came out the way it should have. I stuttered and stumbled over every single word until I was certain he no longer liked me. My palms were sweaty, there were butterflies in my stomach and just looking at him made my head spin. If this is love, it sure is an uncomfortable feeling.

How am I supposed to speak to him, to learn more about him, if I cannot string a single sentence together when I'm with him? I need to talk to someone about this, but I cannot. He isn't one of Father's preferred suitors and the mere idea of our meetings would cause a sour taste in Father's mouth. If Father were to find out, there would be no end to the trouble he'd cause.

In truth, dear Molly, I do not know what I am supposed to do.

We have arranged another meeting in a week's time but I am terrified that I might do or say the wrong thing all over again. For all of Mother's etiquette lessons, she never once taught me the appropriate way to converse with someone I may have feelings for.

It seems to be a major oversight on her part.

Perhaps I am thinking too much into this. I suppose I shall find out next week.

Until next time.

Love, Catherine.

~~~

First Published - February 6th, 2022