My Dearest Beatrice,

How I have missed you these long three months at sea. I miss our long walks through town, our pleasurable chats when taking tea in the garden, and most of all your undying friendship and loyalty to me.

I don't think I've ever told you how greatly you helped me when I first arrived in England two years ago. I was only fifteen, frightened, homesick, and with no one to turn to but Alfred who was distant and still adjusting to our marriage. How lonely I was when I first walked into the castle with crowds of people at all sides of me, gawking at the French foreign princess whom Duke Alfred had brought home as his bride. Only you kind and faithful Beatrice, a direct descendent of the royal family who had better things to do than extend her hand to an anxious child, did what not even Alfred's family could do. You spoke to me with friendship and treated me as a beloved sister, and not simply a great conquest for England. From the day we met you found time every day to come and visit me in that castle full of strangers, including my husband. Bit by bit you chiseled through my shy exterior and uncovered my true happiness. Every day I thank God for you, and pray for the day when I am able to see your smiling face again.

This is why my dear Beatrice, I am writing you this letter. Though there is no way that I can send this news to you until we have reached land an additional four months from now, I so tire of lying in my cabin feeling the rocky waves rise and fall with no care of whom they may disturb when there is this wonderful thing inside me that I must tell of.

At the beginning of the voyage, my seasickness was overwhelming, which was very odd because, as you know Beatrice, I have a stomach of iron. I began receiving frequent visits from the doctor and it was not long before he told me some happy news.

Oh Beatrice, I am pregnant!

Despite the fact that I am in possibly the worst environment to endure my confinement and must lie in bed at all times for fear that walking on deck might hurt the baby, I am overjoyed. Alfred, who's smiles are so rare, is delighted at the prospect of my producing him an heir. Though, I am very young, I shall soon learn what it is like to be a mother, which gives me even greater joy that I shall soon be seeing mine.

As you know, Alfred and I have left England for my home in France for my brother, Henry's, wedding. He is to marry the princess of Spain. If I know my elder brother aright, who's countenance is so different than mine; who is headstrong, willful, and passionate; he will be most unhappy to wed one that he does not know or love. Perhaps I can be some comfort to him, for I know what it is like.

Pray for me my friend. Pray for the happiness of my brother. Pray that we arrive safely in France, and pray that by the next time I see you I shall have a healthy child in my arms.

All my love,

Collete