July 24th, 1763

I dreamt of my husband last night.
It was dawn, when I woke with a start. First I couldn't make out what had startled me so. But slowly I remembered the dream and had to sit up straight to digest it.

After breakfast, H and I went into the shrubbery to relish the cherries. I have some very sweet at the moment, as Isaac brought them in after dinner. I would have Mrs Redbourn bake a cherry pie (I still should ask her), but as Lord C isn't here to enjoy it; well, they might return in time for the rest of the fruits to be due.
I am more calmed down now, but in the shrubbery with H analysing my changed disposition towards my husband, I was partly surprised by her accurate and deep observations and, though distracted by the sweet gooseberries, a bit annoyed at myself. It is true, I changed consiberably during Hs absence, which is an unsignificant time frame anyway. But she is my friend and she was right. maybe H didn't expect me to overcome my stubbornness and follow her advice so fast and so soon.

I am glad you decided to see him what he is: your husband, your partner in life, Emmeline. Trust him to be a very good one too. He is not like his brother. Your own dear Jeremiah said so.

I wish I could talk to my brother; I wish, he could be here, but more so I wish him to be with Clive and Lord C in London helping them.

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July 23rd, 1763

Ms B called this morning and Mrs H and her daughter came later to tea. We were invited to the Barrett's tonight for cards and stayed quite long; Mr B's sister insisting on some music as well.
I lost twice at Quadrille and Harriet rather liked to sit with Lady Humberdross, who never played cards or anything...
Sir H was not a good partner for me, as he never remembered which card was trump. After the second lost game I decided to relieve Mrs Kettle from from staying all night behind the harpsichord and, selfishly (i wouldn't lie to myself here), hid behind the instrument. It was soothing not to be bothered by anyone.
When we returned home, H was obviously in a good mood and we had some tea before we went to bed. Whatever Lady H had to tell her, it has brightened her up enormously.

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July 18th, 1763

After the gentlemen had left very early, I couldn't find any sleep whatsoever and then found Harriet awake as well. We didn't bother to wait for breakfast and just had tea, startling the housemaids not accustomed to see their mistress or a guest up and about at this hour and literally being in their way preparing the house for us coming down - which would have been much later usually... So we went for a walk in the garden, not hungry at all. We happened to walk quite far out into the park, sometimes talking, sometimes being silent, and only noticed we had lost our orientation, when we were finally hungry. Had it not been for Mr. Loughname to cross our path and leading us back to the main path and towards the house, we would have starved to death or wandered to Scotland...
We didn't talk about the latest incidents but about taking a house together in Bath as soon as our husbands would be back again. Making plans as ordinary as that was consoling indeed. - The summer still mainly ahead of us, Harriet desperately wanted to go to the seaside, but not our seaside in Cumberland, she was thinking about the fashionable one.

To day, we set out to visit Ms B as we hadn't been at the service yesterday. It was refreshing to think and talk of something entirely different. Although I hadn't seen her for a week, since last Sunday that is, I was glad she hadn't been at Leyland for a visit and would have observed my strange state of mind. She expressed her surprise of meeting Harriet so soon again and my friend and I decided mutely to let her in to the most general facts of what had happened. I was sure, and so was Harriet I suspect, that Ms B was the last person we coudln't trust and the most sympathetic friend we could find around here. And so it was indeed and Harriet seemed to be rather evidently relieved to have one confidant as supporting and impartial as Ms B.

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July 17th, 1763

I needn't have bothered to ponder the question last night. My husband came into my bedroom this morning to bid farewell and even dared to tell me, that he would miss me.
How cruel!
I hadn't slept well or at all that night and was quite exhausted. I realized him sitting on the edge of my bed, caressing my hair. It is awfully mean of me to be somehow annoyed by his behaviour towards me. I mean, his kind behaviour towards me! How do I deserve it anyway? I am afraid I really begin to like him, as if it is not already enough that I respect him. But his perfect conduct, especially in comparison with his brother, is reminding me all the time, that I am really grateful to be HIS wife and not anybody else's. What a disturbing thing to realize!

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July 16th, 1763

I had the breakfast brought up into my parlour, so that Harriet and I had time to discuss what troubled us most and our husbands were in Lord C's study anyway. Brittles informed me that they are planning to leave for London and H and I knew they want to seek out Max.
The men of course wouldn't inform us about any details, and though we are affected, they will defend their and our honour, in a gentlemanly way...

Despite that, I would like to know what exactly my father knew about all of that mess. He must be roughly informed about something. Jeremiah knows! I begin to suspect anything!

night
Again, after we all went to our chambers, my husband sought me out in my room. He announced their departure at dawn the following morning and their wish not to lose one minute in investigating how far Max and Fred went in their perfidiously game. He walked about my bedroom, quite nervous, but probably not as nervous as I was.
I had no idea about what I was more anxious: he maybe kissing me again, or... maybe not... and the silly thought of asking him to say goodbye tomorrow morning and some strange inner voice thinking for whatever reason I would think that...
Thinking this, doing that, he took the decision from me in any case and before he left the room he took my hands in his and closing them tightly in front of his chest: I got kissed on my forehead and was mumbled a 'good night'. At that precise moment, I wished, he had chosen my lips for it, but he hadn't.

What a strange wish anyway...

Now I am a bit relieved to be alone again, though I don't think of sleeping, ever sleeping again...

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