Love, Husband #4

My Dearest Hellenora,

Your eyes glimmer like the jewels on my rings. And I adore your laughter, even when you are just trying to appease the new garden boy – his jokes are not very good, but you are so polite.

I love you more than a rose loves its petals.

Truly yours,

Henry Northcott

P.S. I have noticed a very strange taste in my soup. I’m sure it’s the cook misusing the herbs. I shall see that she is dismissed and punished in the morning if I am feeling well enough; I’ve had the most terrible headaches as of late.