Atticus had been putting off penning a letter, knowing she wouldn’t contact him again if she didn’t receive word for him. It was so tempting to keep silent – a child. They always served a special tea before or after the trysts so that these things would not happen, yet… it had.<br/><br/>She was having his child. His heart squeezed tightly in his chest, and the regret and dread he felt was oddly outmatched by his excitement, his joy.<br/><br/>She was only meant to be a client, but she was nothing like those who visited him. Beautiful and innocent. He had taken her virginity on their first meeting, and he had held her close after.<br/><br/>He had grown fond of her, become eager for her visits. She never hurt him very badly. If he didn’t write to her, he would give her more pain than all his clients combined ever could give him.<br/><br/>His materials were not rich as hers were, paper and watered down ink. His hand was not very practiced, as it had been some years since he had needed to do anything but sign his name, though there was still a little carriage left in his style. His spelling told of his vocabulary outreaching his education.<br/><br/><em>My Ellen,<br/><br/>Let me lay your fears to rest at once, however abrupt a start it makes this letter, and promise I shall never seek you out. I, however, will be in your reach for as long as I am able. It is with regret that I tell you, I will burn your letter as soon as I have finished writing this. I have no desire to risk your comfort or health. Forgive me.   <br/><br/>It is all that I can offer you, and my heart breaks that it is so little. If I were more, if I could… I would not leave you to the mercy of that gentleman who keeps you. Know that. <br/><br/>I should have told you that when you last visited, but I was too overwhelmed. My reactions were cruel. <br/><br/>As for forgetting you, that is a sin I will never be guilty of. You are engrained on my soul, branded on my heart and scarred on my skin. I will never forget you, or my child. <br/><br/><del>I intend to </del><br/><br/>Should anything happen, I will be here. <br/><br/>Keep well,<br/>Louis X </em><br/><br/>He stared at the page as the ink dried, read her previous letters again then threw them both in the fire. The bracelet was slipped into the envelope along with the letter, to which he added;<br/><br/><em>Post Script – I enclose your gift, which I cannot accept. My room smells like you. I will hold you tonight in my dreams.</em><br/>