August 18, 1862
My Dearest Ophelia,
Your letter found me in a quiet moment, and I must confess that it stirred my heart like the first breath of spring after a long, harsh winter. Though your words are careful, as they must be, I have read their true meaning, and it is as though a candle has been lit within me, illuminating a path I had nearly despaired of seeing again.
Yes, my love, I understand. The river holds no secrets from me, and I know the old oak of which you write. If the fates are kind, I shall find myself there in a week's time, just as the shadows lengthen and the day turns to dusk. I shall wear a bonnet with the lilac ribbon, the very one you gifted me that summer by the river's edge. Surely, it will be a small signal, known only to you, that I am near.
I shall take every precaution, as you wisely suggest. My steps will be light, and my departure known to no one, save my own heart. I would rather journey through darkness and danger a thousand times than miss even a moment of seeing you, dear Ophelia. I am reminded daily of how fragile our lives have become, yet I hold to this chance as I would to a lifeline, trusting in Providence to bring us safely together.
To see you once more, to speak with you, to feel the solace of your presence even for a brief while—this is the prayer that fills my heart each night. If there is a mercy to be found in this world torn by strife, then I believe it lies in such moments as this one we have planned. Should all go well, I shall be there, carrying with me all the love and devotion that these many months have only deepened.
Write to me as you are able, my dearest, though I understand well the necessity of silence. Know that my thoughts are with you, that my heart leaps at the thought of our meeting, and that I shall hold you in my prayers until that blessed hour arrives. If, by some misfortune, I should be unable to join you, trust that I will send some sign, so that you may know. But until then, I shall hold to this hope with all my heart.
Yours, in love and fervent hope,
Theodora
