At parties and dinners I talk with ladies whose English is clear and crisp, and they struggle to understand me. Though I’ve spent my life avoiding a Yorkshire accent, it creeps in at the corners and muffles some of my words; I must work hard to enunciate, my humour is lost to them and I seem dull and uneducated. I can see them comment on my clothing which feels well-worn and shabby next to theirs and even when I wear a new dress to attend Court, one which is not black, a fact which somewhat pains me but was worth a try, I still feel an outsider; even in beige.

I smile at women who would normally come to talk and raise a glass with me, intrigued by an English lady – but those younger than me do not seem to be interested. I stare at my reflection and I seem older, more tired, less alive. No wonder I have not met a lover here; I am no longer in my twenties. I am an old spinster, past her prime, older than the mothers of some of the girls I like the look of, and they all ask me, where is my husband? Am I a widow? They do not understand I have chosen this life, that I may have more interest in them than they can imagine, that I could give them more pleasure than they could dream of or will ever receive from their husbands. I have wasted my attractive years courting the wrong women and am now too old for those available. If only one of our York set had been right for me. If only Mariana… and I go over the same old ground. Reminiscing and regretting what could have been and never was to be. What use is regret? I cannot change anything.

There are so many paths in life we make for ourselves, but the two vital ones, our status and our love, are ordained for us. We are born as we are born, into whatever form God deems us worthy of. We are teased with and denied love regardless of our own capacity to love and be loved. Those who are most deserving of love seem least likely to be rewarded with it.

You cannot choose when and whom you love. Miss Walker treated it as a practical decision she needed to make, but when true love occurs, surely there is no decision? Just two people drawn together, whether the situation is right or wrong, whether their sex is a match or not; where there is love, true love, it must be so.