Dearest Fred,

I think of you often and fondly. Day and night. Especially when I am feeling completely alone in his big empty house. I simply stop, and remember your face, our adulterous affair. Mary is so utterly devoted to you that you have begun to appear in my very dreams. If you'll indulge me Fred, I'd like to recount to you one of my favorites.

The two of us are walking on a beach, presumably somewhere in England. You looked a bit younger than I last remember seeing you. For some reason you were wearing the same dress you wore when Tib introduced you to me. That seems very unlikely in real life. There's no way that dress would fit you anymore. We were holding hands, as there was no one else around. It was like our own private beach. A private oasis. Our bare feet were splashing in the clear shallow water and I could almost feel the wet sand clinging to my toes. The cold water chilling my hot feet. Your chestnut locks flowing freely in the breeze. You flash me one of your dazzling smiles, let go of my hand and squat down, to pick something up, getting your skirt soaking wet in the process. That's exactly something you'd do. Ruin a perfectly good piece of clothing for something as trivial as a seashell. The one you placed into my palm was a nice one though. A fair sized conch shell. You don't find a lot of those on an average day.

Suddenly we're no longer on the beach. I'm alone, lying in a bed in a cottage somewhere. Perhaps it is a seaside cottage. It must be somewhere I've been before because the room felt familiar, cozy even. There is a baby cot in the room too for some reason. I walk over, reach in and pick up a baby boy. He doesn't look like me or Charles, more like your side of the family. His face reminds me of your brother Sam. You enter the bedroom, looking a little disheveled, probably having been out for a walk. Fred gives me a gentle smile and you join me lounging on the mattress. After gazing at our son in my arms for a good while you lean in and kiss me gently. I shift my weight and seem to be about to kiss you back, instead breathe into Fred's ear, "I love you".

That's all of the dream I can remember. Perhaps I woke up after that. It seemed so real that I keep returning to it in my daydreams. It may have been a premonition of a future yet to come. Life isn't a fairy tale however. Eventually you need to wake up and face reality. Maybe someday our lives could look a lot like that. Or even better. If we can make our stars line up correctly.

I would need a son to take care of me, to inherit my husband's fortune. To be safe, I would need two an heir and a spare. There are no guarantees in this life. After every time I force myself to perform my marital duties with that man, I pray that I may become pregnant. Mary knows in her bones, deep in her very soul that she can endure and come out the other side if God chooses to bless me with a child. I know that you have never wanted children but I could handle everything to do with them, if it meant a future with you. A life of happiness and perfect contentment. Being one another's other half. Their missing piece. Wouldn't that be wonderful? I hope to behold you with my own eyes very soon. Silent imaginings are never a true substitute for you. The real living breathing, incredible, impossible Anne Lister. Come to me soon my love.

Faithfully and Very Affectionately,

Your own Mariana