❝𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐦𝐬❞

To His Grace, the Duke of Beaulieu

Your Grace,

Your letter reached me as the morning sun kissed the fields with light, and yet it has left me trembling as though caught in a storm. I had read your words over and over, unable to believe that one such as you could see something worthy in one such as me.

You speak of love, of devotion, of a bond that transcends the gulf that separates our worlds. I have no title, no wealth, nothing to offer but a heart that beats wildly at the thought of you. I had noticed you before, Your Grace—how could I not? You, with your regal bearing and kind eyes, seemed untouchable, a star in a sky I could only gaze upon. To think you noticed me, let alone cherished me in your heart, feels like a dream I dare not trust.

I am but a girl of modest means, my hands calloused from work, my dress plain and worn. My life has been one of quiet simplicity, tending to the land, caring for my family. It is a life I know well, but your words have awakened something in me—a longing I scarcely knew was there. Could I, a mere villager, truly belong by the side of a Duke? Could the laughter of my humble heart truly fill the halls of your grand estate?

Your Grace, I must confess, the thought both thrills and terrifies me. Yet, amidst my doubts, there is a flame of hope that will not be extinguished. For while you write of titles and stations, I see in your words a man who feels deeply, who longs sincerely, and who offers his heart not as a Duke, but as Henri.

If you would have me, then know this: I may not wear fine silks or carry the grace of a courtly lady, but I would love you with all the quiet strength that the soil and the seasons have taught me. I would be yours, not because of your title, but because your heart has touched mine in ways I never imagined possible.

If this is what you truly wish, then I will leave behind my fears and walk by your side, wherever that may lead us. For love—true love—cares nothing for station or wealth. It thrives in the simplest of hearts and the grandest of halls alike.

Say but the word, and I will come to you, not as a subject to her Duke, but as a woman to the man who has claimed her heart.

Yours, humbly yet fiercely,
Madeleine.