Dear, Miss Violet. ✔

Chapter 2

Simon Siddell sighed as he loosened his cravat and poured himself a glass of fine French wine.
The day had dawned effortlessly, but as it ensued, his patience grew uncontrollable.
Simon frowned. What wrong had he done? Was the letter that he'd sent to Miss Violet way too flirtatious and......wrong?
Simon bit his lip. He shouldn't have sent her the letter. It was a mistake.
But what could he do anyway?
He'd loved her for two years now, and the letter was the only means of communication.
Not that Simon feared to approach her. He broadened his shoulders, he was a brave man, huh.
And to crown that, he was really handsome too. He had manly features and such charm that ladies would swoon at his feet. But, after a few years, after his 'silent yet dark' side started dominating his charm, ladies would rather stay away from him than to invest time in him. Simon was rather growing dangerously silent lately, he thought.
And even if he approached Miss Violet, she would not like him at all.
And well, there was another reason why he did not want to approach her. Simon coughed. His secret should not be given much thought. Simon had such bad dreams about his secrets......he swore and took a sip.

Simon looked out the window. It was evening already and he'd mentioned in the letter to Miss Violet that she should reply the very day. Would she reply? He didn't think so but-
"Lord Simon?" Simon's Valet called out, with a knock at his door.
"Yes?" Simon questioned with raised brows.
"There was a letter for you, as you said, behind the rose bush" his valet said.
Simon smiled. He'd told his valet to go and see if there was any letter for him behind the  rose bush. And indeed, Violet had replied to him.
Simon took the letter and dismissed his valet after profusely thanking him.
Simon looked at the white and crisp envelope and opened it, taking out the letter.

Dear Anonymous,
Your letter filled me with anticipation and hope that I can be loved.
No one has ever written such beautiful words to me ever in my entire life. And I never knew that someone observed me so carefully to know that the length of my ears matches the length of my nose. That's a little weird but extraordinarily sweet.
But why do you fear to approach me directly sir?
Not that I am going to run away.
So, can you please provide me with your name? It would be of great help, really.
Yours truly,
Miss Violet.

Simon smiled, she had replied.
His Miss Violet had replied.
Simon suddenly could feel his groin harden. His jaw clenched and his eyes were filled with something unclear that he couldn't recognize.
It was an emotion, surely.
Simon remembered the first time that he'd seen Miss Violet.
She was a debutante and had just made her entry into the ballroom.
All eyes were on her, and even the air in the room had stopped to admire her.
She smiled at the entire ballroom, but for him it felt as if she was smiling at him.
It felt as if, as if, she was coming to him, for him, to embrace him, and to love him.
He even remembered her attire.
She had worn a silver dress, with frills at the bottom and with a low cut at the neck. The dress was beautiful, just like her face, and it was puffy, especially at the hips, and the bonnet was the same shade, a bit darker, but having two spherules, the crinkling type, at the back of her head, and which silently crooned as she took exactly three steps.
She had worn a pearl necklace, which was moccasin hued, with the same type of earrings, a touch lighter in hue, that matched her bracelet, which looked much darker as she moved her hands to make friendly gestures.
And her face, lord. Her face, was one reason why her dress looked much prettier than it actually was.
Her face was something so different and unique, that even if God explained, it could not be explained.
Her violet eyes looked like flowers, and he so much as to wished, that her eyes would blossom at the sight of him.
But that would never happen, she would never like him.
Never.
But Simon, was used to hatred. So, he wiped his tears, and smiled at his heart, telling it to bear hatred like it always had.
It was fine to be the one sided lover in the story. If there was any story at all.
So, Simon took out his quill and paper, and started writing.