Most sweet Lady, my wife is expecting, and her name is Martha, but you already knew that. Like I would believe for a single moment that you have forgotten the name of the woman I married instead of you.
I think I also hear the whispered rumours of war lurking, though one cannot say for sure at such a date. I would come to Paris; I would happily swim the width of the sea to be with you, though I cannot run now if there is news of an invasion.
Not marrying you was the biggest mistake a man could ever make, but coming to be with you now would be a bigger one still. I cannot desert my country now, France thinks I am a traitor and am untrue to my word; I cannot have my own land thinking of me in the same light.
I am most glad that you have found yourself a position at court, your Lady Mother may claim you are conspiring against the King but you know in your heart that we do not wish to conspire against anyone. The Duchess can be very front and forceful, when news reached her that I was already wed such a strongly worded letter was written in her hand and addressed to me. It accused me of all sorts like you would not believe.
We must meet. It has been far too long since I have last seen your face. Oh sweet and noble Lady, I will beg you once more, come to England with me, be with me, once you are safely in my homeland nothing will harm you again. You will not be accused of conspiring; you will live a life the French cannot give you. I pray you rethink my offer, as it will always be open to you.
You must know, that if this invasion is what my cousin was warning you about I will be a noble gentleman, I will not knowingly kill anyone of royal French blood that you can be assured; though the same loyalty cannot be said for my brothers who are most likely ready to kill anything that looks French.
Kind Lady, I will see you soon, though you should know I see you every night in my dreams.
Richard, Duke of Gloucester