July 12th 1860

This journal entry will, I fear, be unreadable. My hands shake such that I wonder who is master of them – it is certainly not me!

I saw the envelope on the salver in the entrance. Boo had at last written to me. I ran down the staircase – wondering as I went why Villiers had not brought the letter direct to my rooms. As I thought that, it was clear to me that Villiers had not, for that matter, undertaken any of his daily duties by the time my breakfast was cleared. Where could he be?

No matter. I was sure he would appear soon. I seized Boo’s missive and ran back to my desk. Papa had given me a sharp implement meant for dealing with correspondence which seemed to me quite dangerous. But it was effective, and I sliced through Boo’s seal as easily as if it had already been opened.

When I saw what she had sent me. I fell into a fit of weeping and dismay. My plea to my oldest and closest friend  had resulted in the most egregious response.

She had enclosed, with no note of explanation,  a likeness of  her children – Little Bradstone and Angelina –  both looking sullen, as if the person taking the picture had frightened them into unnatural stillness.

But why did she do that? Had she not comprehended my request for evidence of Josiah’s betrayal? Boo knows that I have always hoped to be a mother myself. Why would she be so cruel as to reply with the very image of my inability to achieve my wish.

I am shocked at Boo’s cruelty.  Shocked and saddened. I had thought her my friend, one who would help me in my quest to rid myself of Josiah’s stifling presence. Instead she torments me with my own failings.

I shall have to look elsewhere for the evidence I seek.