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Thu, Mar. 24th, 2005, 04:05 pm

Dearest Richard,

I have thought upon the conversation we had last night. I could not, for the very life of me, think of why you must leave so soon after our marriage. You slayed for me, would almost kill yourself for me, and now you begin preparing to leave? Mean I so little to you, my lord? I spit upon thee, but that was in my rage. What could I do, standing over the body of my Edward's father? Was it all for my beauty that this blood was shed?

I am beginning to doubt.

Sat, Mar. 26th, 2005 08:48 am (UTC)

Worry not, my sweet Anne. I contemplate only the notion of going abroad, and those who say I make to leave in haste, lie.

'Twas not only for thy beauty, love. It was also for the sake of thy wit and charm, which both thou hast in near obscene abundance. I must surely fight off men for the sake of keeping you.

How flattering it is that thou didst choose me, that my poor words and ill form somehow swept thee under my wing. Listen not to those that slander me; they know not of my true person. I have not washed the garment that thou spat upon (though my mocking cousins say I should before I wear it again).

I suppose I will wash it, if only to bask in the fact that I have thy kiss at hand, every gentle night you bestow it upon me, I who am hapless in thy embrace.

Sun, Mar. 27th, 2005 05:55 pm (UTC)

Dearest Richard,
Again thou hast quelled my fears, taken those slanders put in my ears and turned them to dust. Those sweet words with which thou won me have wooed me yet again. I canst not think of how thou captured me, if it was not for thy words which carry in them more than is held in any pretty, fleeting form. Yet now I must be put to entreaty, though it is not a woman's place. Is it possibly for one such as myself, thy wife, to accompany thee to Denmark?
In one thing though, thou art mistaken, it is I, poor Anne, whom am hapless in thy embrace.

Wed, Mar. 30th, 2005 03:13 am (UTC)

My dear Anne,

Fear not that I might leave thee. I am not yet bound for Denmark; I have more business here with John and Faulconbridge, since they saw fit to steal my rightful lands. But 'twould be near impossible to leave thee for any amount of time; I am in agony at any separation we might endure. Of course, thou must come with me if I decide to leave the country.

Thy loving husband,