The ring of truth in his words stung. Harold was right. She knew she was indulged – her daddy’s only child, treated like a son a lot of the time. Oh, how folk must laugh at me and my efforts to thrive in the business world. This hit her as something she had always known, but had denied. Yes, she had gained respect for her knowledge and her flare for making the right decisions, but she’d known the real opinions of the men she dealt with. Maybe Harold was right. Her heart was heavy as this realization overcame her.

I want a loving wife, as I know you will be, who cares for me and is there for me, making a loving and welcoming home for me.

In return, I will be a diligent businessman and will run all our business affairs. Above all, I will be a loving husband and father to our children – I hope we have many. I want to make those with you, my darling, and only with you. We have both had a taste of how wonderful our coming together will be. I am pining to repeat that. Just writing this, I am feeling the need of you, wanting to hold you and be one with you. Are you feeling that, too?

Mags couldn’t deny that she was. She caught her breath as, unconsciously, she stretched out her legs and tensed the muscles in her groin. A remembered thrill tightened her throat. Yes! Yes, I am feeling it. Oh, Harold, come back to me, and be to me the husband that I want – and need.

Write soon, my darling; write soon with what I want to hear, and I will be there with you like a shot, creeping into your bed and making exquisite love to you.

The feelings inside Mags intensified. Her breath caught in her lungs, and her cheeks flushed. She swallowed hard as desire consumed her. Oh, Harold, I love you. I love you.

I cannot promise that I can stay with you for the whole of the time until our wedding, my darling, as I have such a lot going on here that I need to finalize before our marriage. I need it out of the way, so that nothing takes me away from you afterwards. Please let it be that I will be there.

Your loving H x

Rising, Mags went over to the window and looked out at the garden. The weather had warmed, and there was only a trace here and there of the overnight cold – a frosted white cobweb clinging to the hedge and an icicle hanging from the wishing well, dripping droplets of water as it melted. The low winter sun shone on her, its rays amplified by the glass of the windowpanes. Soon Christmas would be upon them – a time she’d always loved, but now dreaded. It was going to be painful to get through it without her mother. But then maybe Harold would be here. Oh, she hoped so.