August 25th, 1889

Dear Mr. Lukeson,

I wished to thank you for the kindness and discretion you showed toward me at the Murray Ball the other day. Few would have taken the time to make sure I was alright, but you rescued me and helped to right my own wrongs. In the days that have passed, I have often found my thoughts returning to you and your kindness.

I hope you will not find this letter too bold, but if there is any way I might return the favor please don’t hesitate to put quill to paper and I shall reply with the utmost timeliness.

Selfishly I hope I shall hear from you for I enjoyed our time together. However brief it may have been.

Most Sincerely,
Miss Lucille Flint

August 27, 1889

Dear Mr. Lukeson,

It is my most fervent wish that I might see you again soon. For I have found in that there are few with whom I can truly discuss my own thoughts without worry of repercussion. I find you among those few. However, my mother has hardly allowed me to stray from the premises of our home these days unless under her own supervision and she is not oft about. I can only hope that the written word shall suffice until the next social event she deems we can attend.

Your friend,
Miss Lucille Flint

August 29, 1889

Dear Mr. Lukeson,

As much as it pains me to admit it, I fear you are right. After my cousin’s disappearance, my mother has been less lenient with me venturing out, but now with things as they are - well I am permitted at very few events of any kind. All the vendors come to our home leaving so few errands to be attended to off the premises. It is almost as if I have become a prisoner of my own home.

I am sure it must be different for you in such a quiet house. I can tell you, from personal experience, that a quiet life can be both a blessing and a curse. Growing up I longed for siblings, it was always so quiet. But I didn’t realize how much until I went to school. When I came back I had my cousin with me, which helped. But when it became just my mother and I again - well I often wish to be anywhere else. Mother is not the most fond of social events and often wishes we stayed home. At least you shall have these letters to keep you company.

Are your siblings excited to return to school? I imagine it would seem calmly to return to something so normal after all they have been through - you have been through.

My days are filled with plans for the wedding. A constant barrage of fabrics, flowers, and menu choices. I had always imagined I would enjoy planning my wedding - instead I have found I dread it. Is it selfish of me to say that I wish time might still so I may live my life as it was before this marriage takes place?

Your friend,
Miss Lucille Flint

August 31, 1889

Dear Mr. Lukeson,

It appears, for the most part, that things have returned to some relative calm within my family. Things are tougher for my cousins than for myself, but they appear to be holding up well. Bella is still out of contact with us. I confess I miss her friendship. Although I should not admit it, it pains me that she has not reached out to me in the year since it all happened.

You need not mention anything that will cause you pain in your letters if you do not wish. I will not think worse of you.

Your siblings all seem very sweet. I can not imagine growing up in a house full of so many personalities. I hope that they find comfort in Hogwarts, I know I always did. May you and your mother find comfort in their letters as I find in yours.

Baking is an unusual hobby to find among our set. But to find something you love in life, well that is a thing to be treasured and nurtured: be it a hobby, a person, a career. I had hoped to find a love in my life. But it appears that it shall not be the case. So long I’ve wasted on looking for it, that now, when the door closes, it feels as if a part of me is being locked outside.

It is unfortunate to have a wedding planned for oneself, yet altogether a common occurrence. My mother seems to feel as if I should have this honor - of planning it myself. A last gift before I am to be married against my wishes. But I find the taste rather arduous rather than fun. Perhaps if it were for a match I had made myself I might feel differently, I can only imagine if you love were at the end of the aisle I should find myself excited at the prospect.

Perhaps it is bold of me to ask, but my curiosity requires it: do you wish to marry for love one day, Mr. Lukeson? Or do you wish for nothing more than to find a good match that you might live in peaceable coexistence with as your days pass?

Your friend,
Miss Lucille Flint

September 2, 1889

Dear Mr. Lukeson,

Perhaps in time Rosie will begin to talk more. I should hope she is a comfort to yourself and your mother with the others gone. How old is she now?

As for my cousin, you are right, of course. Putting myself in her shoes I would hope for someone to reach out to me. Yet I have not found it in myself to send any letter I have written. At first I had my reasons, trying to protect her in my own way. Now though, it has become petty of myself. I had hoped that once things had passed over she might have reached out. But she did not. I would help her if only she let me, but she didn’t even give me the chance to help her before she left. Nor did she leave word for us. Mother insists that some things are better left alone, but I am more inclined to agree with you on this particular circumstance.

I remember hearing of your uncle and brother, it is a terrible loss to all to lose someone so young. But they were very brave to protect the others. I’m sure he knows you miss him and is looking down at you from Heaven.

It is wonderful to hear of King’s position! I am sure you are very proud of him.You most worry about him, though, since he seems to worry often about so much else and now he is in such a role.

For what it is worth I think you would have made a good Hufflepuff. I would have enjoyed spending more time with you. The common room, while lacking the views of the towers I’m sure, still is one of the places I feel the most at home at. Is it strange that I still miss Hogwarts?

Often when I see those of our set working I assume it is because of a love or desire such as your’s to work. I think it admirable that you would take a job to make a difference rather than simply enjoying the life that this afforded to those of our standing.

It is my greatest hope to find a new passion, although I already know this will not come from my own marriage. Perhaps I shall have to take after your sister and learn to bake, although I doubt my new husband will approve of such an endeavor. Or really much of anything beyond being a dutiful wife.

Your parents and relations are lucky to have found love. My own family is made up us arranged marriages that have not brought much joy to the couples involved. It is why my mother allowed me the freedom to search for my own husband until now. She worries I shall never find anyone I truly love and worries for me. I can not blame her reasons, but they bring me no joy. Especially as of late.

While the thought of you marrying another - I hope you do find love and you stand to those ideals. So few gentlemen that I know do. Whoever the lady may be, she will be a lucky to have you by her side, to know that you love her and treasure her for more than a well connected marriage. So few of us are allowed such circumstances.

I must cut this letter short as I am expected at an event this evening with my intended. I would hope you shall be in attendance, but it shall be painful to watch from afar as my evening is held up in tedious conversation Mr. Leycre.

Your friend,
Miss Lucille Flint

September 3, 1889

Dear Mr. Lukeson,

While I received your letter after I had left for the evening, it was a balm to have your words waiting for me when I returned home yesterday. I confess it was almost maddening to see you so close and yet to be unable to speak with you. How much I have longed to hear your voice and to see your face these past few weeks and there you were as out of reach as if it was only yet another letter. How I envy the ladies you spoke with, danced with, as I was occupied by Mr. Lécuyer’s attentions. I suppose I should feel happy for you to have had a pleasant evening, but selfishly I wished that each lady you spoke with, danced with, could have been myself. If only I found myself free of this situation, free to tell you how I feel. Yet I can not endure keeping silent on the matter. How I wish I could explain these thoughts to you in person, to see your face as I tell you this. As I am not able to do so my quill and paper shall have to suffice. If I have offended, I most sincerely apologize, but I can not simply keep such notions to myself any longer.

I shall leave my letter short in anticipation of your own answer.

Anxiously,
L.F.

September 3, 1889

Mr. Lukeson,

You can not imagine the joy your words have brought to me. How I shake as I write my reply. How I have hoped to hear see such words from you. Yet even as I read them I feel a sense of dread. I can no longer deny that I have fallen for you as well. (What a relief to pen such words to you!) But to know that my own feelings are reciprocated when I am promised to another? There is no feeling worse in the world. The very thought of my impending nuptials fills me with horror. I can not imagine going through with the marriage now. Yet I can see no way my mother would call off the wedding. If only we could run away from the world, start out on our own, with no one to steer our own actions or desires. But such things only happen in stories. If only I could be yours. If only it were you standing at the end of the aisle, I should be a very happy woman indeed if dreams were reality.

Wishfully,
L.F.

September 4, 1889

Dearest A.,

How dearly I wish to say yes. I do not wish to live a life without you in it. But would you really risk such a thing with me? If the answer is yes, then I will most earnestly agree to go with you to the end of the world. To make ours a story worth telling. But if you are not, I understand. It is I, not you, who stands in the way of our happiness.

Yours,
L.F.