Object, Matrimony

Chapter 9: Exchange

To: Mister Aaron Hotchner

Box 173

Sapíia, Wyoming Territory

From: Miss Victoria Beauregard

308 Reading Road

Cincinnati, Ohio

January 20, 1875

Mister Hotchner,

Please forgive me for the lapse in our communications. I assure you, it had nothing to do with any letter I received from Sapíia and was not for reasons within my control. If you will please grace me with your patience, I will explain to the best of my ability why it has been so many months since you heard from me.

Around the time of my previous letter to you, I noticed a man following me when I was running errands for the Lightman family. I had never spoken to him and did not know his name, yet everywhere I turned, he was there, waiting and watching me. I did my best to avoid him and never engaged with him. Despite my efforts, he continued to follow me and soon learned where I was employed. My troubles only increased, for when I did not react to his provocations, he began to harass all household members. He would shout lies about me to anyone he could, including the Lightmans and their small children.

I assured my employers of my innocence, and they believed me. But this man would not cease. He would harass any servants who took over my errand duties, demanding to know where I was. He followed the children with their governess, screaming at them that I was something no child should know the word for. He even got into Mister Lightman's gentlemen's club and cornered him, telling him stories about me that I shudder to recall and cannot bring myself to write. I was afraid to leave the house for any reason, even to attend church. I also feared that he would somehow steal my postmail and would thus learn of my connection to you and your address. It broke my heart to not respond to the letters I received from you, Miss Brooks, and Jack, but I would take that pain over the shame of knowing that you were subjected to his lies.

However, nothing I did to deprive this man of me was enough to make him leave me alone. I eventually went to the police, who informed me that the man had yet to commit any crimes. The officer I spoke to said that until he did something undeniably illegal, nothing could be done to stop him. They believed this man would lose interest in me eventually and told me I was allowing my fears to run away with me. The more I protested, the less they listened. Mister Donald even came to the station with me to restate my case, but while they listened to him with greater interest, their answer did not change.

I cannot describe the guilt and desperation I felt as I watched the people in my life suffer because of me. I have heard stories of animals in traps who have chewed off their legs to free themselves from the certain death of the hunter. That is the only way I can explain why, after speaking to the police, I resolved to resume my daily activities as if nothing was amiss.

The second day I left the house, the man attempted to force me into an alleyway with him. I ran, and I thank God that the only physical evidence of his attack was my ripped dress. However, this evidence was not enough for the police, and I once again found myself trapped in the house, apologizing to everyone who was forced to endure this man in my stead, and left with no recourse.

Missus Charlotte was my saving grace, as she convinced me to flee Washington and attempt to start elsewhere. She has a nephew who works as a conductor and arranged for me to take a train west. I packed my belongings, including your letters, and while one of the butlers distracted the man, I escaped to the station.

I once wrote that I could only leave the Lightman household if I knew I was journeying to a home. I have been proven wrong, as I left them for another reason: to spare the people I care for. A piece of my heart is still within that house, sitting on the floor in the parlor where I said goodbye to the only people I have known for the past seven years. The memory of the Lightman children asking me why I was leaving them still makes me weep, even all these months later. I could not explain to them that I was leaving for their sake. But I could not lie to them and say I had found a better place to go. Instead, they embraced me, and I fought back tears until my face was safely hidden from their eyes.