What a joy it is to send letters again! On the urging of my fiancé, I have spent some two weeks in the remotest of houses, nearly a day's walk from the nearest post. He frets terribly, and feared I might develop some nervous fever over stress of the wedding after I developed a rather persistent cough. I have never been one for such attacks of the nerves, but I suppose he must have been correct. The fresh air was pleasant enough to stave off both the cough and the isolation.
Though I would never say so to his face, I wonder if it was not my fiancé himself who was in truth overwhelmed by our coming nuptials. He has been so dreadfully anxious as of late. I cannot express how deeply I empathise with your thoughts on marriage. I should think that I
I apologise. I should not write of such things. Someone might read these letters when I send them, and I fear incriminating not only myself, but you as well. You have been far too kind, Dr. Watson, for me to risk my own thoughts reflecting poorly on yourself. Rest assured, however, that all that is sent to me remains amongst my most secure possessions. Not even my fiancé knows of where they are kept.
I hope you and Mr. Holmes are taking care and that this heat is not too much of a deterrent to your various pursuits. I hear you have been across Wales recently? What a beautiful country. My late adoptive father had family there, and I visited once as a young girl. It seems we have both been far from home as of late.
All the best to you and yours,
Good day, Miss Violet! What a pleasure it is to hear from you again, although it is understandable that life keeps one occupied. Nevertheless, I am thrilled that you appear to be all right. Please, do take care of yourself, and make sure not to strain your health.
I have the suspicions that the two of us are not the only ones to raise eyebrows at the concept of marriage as it is at the moment. Holmes and I have, as you are likely aware, solved quite a number of gruesome murders in which an unhappy marriage was the center point. It does have a way of making one doubt the way society is structured.
Do not worry, for it is likely I have incriminated myself more than you ever could. I have seen Inspector Lestrade eye me quite suspiciously whenever he would walk in on me working on one of my stories, but I cannot help it, I fear. Writing is an outlet for me, and in hindsight, far too much slips through my fingers. I can only hope this is something Holmes does not deduce. And do not worry about your letters, either - I am securing them to the best of my abilities, and I do think I have learned a thing or two from my detective friend over the years.
Now we have returned to stuffy Baker Street, but Wales was indeed quite beautiful. Here's to you returning home soon, too, my friend.
I wish you all the best for your wedding!
