Wishes

February 15th 1815
I’m convinced I will be attached to Mr. Ackerly for the duration of our visit. He came today and we had tea in the drawing room. Mother and Lord Grant formed the seating where I was forced to sit next to him. I have yet to get control of my flutterings. When we sat next to one another Mr. Ackerly often smiled, I discovered something I hadn’t noticed about him yesterday. He has the sweetest dimple on is right cheek. Whenever I saw it surface on his face his eyes danced about the room and my insides leaped within me.
He must have felt my eyes on him because he turned to me and whispered. “May we continue our conversation?”
“I have no objections” I replied. I didn’t want to seem so eager so I added “You may lead.”
“As you wish.” And then I thought to myself if you only knew what I wish. As soon as I thought it, within my mind I scolded myself. And then I thought, “What do you wish for?”
“What is your favorite place, or rather where would you rather be right now?”
I thought as he gazed at me, “I honestly wouldn’t rather be anywhere but here, I love any garden in the spring, but right now, I’m content to be here with present company.” Why did I say that! Is this what I wish for? His company?
“You prefer Rayburn to your majestic Linwood?” He asked. I was relieved he didn’t look deeper or comment further on my answer.
“Linwood is my home, and I will always love it there, but Rayburn has a happy quant home feeling that is unlike any other place I’ve been. Where would you rather be Mr. Ackerly?”
“No where in particular, I have a favorite spot; it lies in between our two estates, Lord Grants and my father’s. It is about miles walk from here. There is a large tree with branches that can shade any weather. I bring my books and some food there sometimes and read all day. The roots form a perfect seat for anyone willing to soften and ease their minds. I am so fond of reading. I find that when reading your mind is open to new ideas, and ways of being. I’m sorry; did that answer your question?”
Amazed at his openness I responded, “Yes, Mr. Ackerly, May I see this spot if you are willing to take me?”
He paused and then said, “Yes I should like to show you, but I am away after tonight to town on business until a week hence. You may, if you like, go in my absence I’m sure you will know the spot when you see it.”
I knew it wouldn’t be the same without him showing me, but maybe this was his way of letting me know his boundaries. I must control my tongue I thought again to myself. “Maybe I shall.”
“What do you do that is diverting, meaning I like to read to entertain myself, what is your passion?”
Testing my limits and control I answered, “Passion is a strong word Mr. Ackerly. This is a very intimate question is it necessary to know my passions to fool poor Lord Grant?”
“Indeed Madame for I wish to be thorough.” He said with a grin, and the he sat back and waved to me as if to lead me into my response. In my 20 years I have never been as captivated in a conversation as this one. What shall I say? I am a simple girl with simple pleasures, passions? Do I tell him my deepest desires to be free from hair pins and stockings, from judging eyes, from holding my tongue to be “right”? Or rather do I tell him a lie? Somehow I knew he would see right through me.
Leaning in I answered, “When I can get away from… well everything I like to live outside the social boundaries that are set around me. That is my passion. To just be. Even my clothing constricts how I long to be, just free from ridicule and rules. This must sound strange, there are things I enjoy, the piano, my journal writing, and good conversation of course, but nothing thrills me more than to breathe the open air alone to my own devices.” I couldn’t believe I just said it, how does a stranger pull my inner desires out of me just like that? Was it because I longed for him to understand me, to really know me? Or am I just putty in his hands?
He leaned into whisper a response, as he spoke his breath warmed the skin on my arm, and compelled the little hair there to stand up on end. “It seems as though your name then contradicts the true person within, as mine does.”
“What do you mean Mr. Ackerly?”
“Audrene or even Addie means Noble Strength or Wealth, even your last name Locke is exactly how you’re living but not who you are. Are you locked with the noble world of wealthy society? I am not a warrior, and hardly ever strong willed, I believe someday my name will test its limits and prove who I am. Will you fight your name, or will you become it?”
“Being noble and having money are not bad things.”
“Yes, there is more than one way of being noble and a warrior, as you pointed out yesterday. I hope we will both have the strength to be the best of ourselves.”
When I looked up to take a breath from our conversation I noticed nearly everyone was gone. My mother sat in the corner with her book. My tea wasn’t even touched. We moved into the company of everyone else and were never able to talk privately again. I admit Mr. Ackerly has made me ponder on who I am. Thinking now in the stillness of my room; how does he know me so well? He must have studied the meaning of my name. But why?

Before parting that evening I whispered to Mr. Ackerly “How do you propose we become the best of ourselves?” And before he could answer his carriage pulled into view and he climbed in with a smile, waved to us all and bid us goodnight.