Can't Hide Forever

Dear Diary,
Remember when I had spoken awhile ago about John Pastern's referral to the best trainer? One that John and I could trust in keeping our horses? Today my dear John opened a letter from this respectable man, but the contents were too much for me to bear! The letter consisted of the horrible man who haunts my dreams and continues to keep a wedge between my husband and I. Mr. James Conyers is coming back to life, and I am not sure how to deal with it yet. All of the ways he hurt me are now coming back, and I cannot even tell my father to help me out of this situation because he believes that my first husband is dead, as did I. The way I reacted in front of my true husband was quite humiliating, but I do not think that my sweet caught on to my secret that is sadly entangled with that monster. I passed out right in front of him and am now laying in my bed. I told him to let me rest here, but surely sleep will not be of any use to me tonight. That gorgeous nightmare is coming back to haunt me, but there must be something that I can do! Sadly I have no one to talk to for I was too ashamed to share this horrid secret with anyone who came into my path. If only I could treat him like one of the deer that has crossed my path in the woods. They both are beautiful on the outside, but on the inside their minds are full of nothing. Nothing but wishes to keep themselves alive and ahead of everything else. Both aren't missed as much when they are gone, so surely I am doing the world a favor. The world is already in abundance of these sickly creatures, so ridding it of only one would benefit the ground and those that would have to cross their paths in the future. I'm sure I will figure out what to do, I have been able to live my life thus far before hearing of this muff. Surely there is something that will save me from the humiliation that he is going to bring. 

Dear Diary,
I have been severely ill the past few days, trying to figure out what I shall do with my circumstances. Conyers will surely be here soon, but I wish not to see him. I think I must make myself even more ill so I may get out of town to discover my plans for this upcoming meeting with that wretched man. I think to write a note for the bastard would be smart; surely he has no idea that I call Mellish Park home. The note that I will write him will be simple, because if anyone, especially that wicked old woman Mrs. Powell, sees it, I will certainly be digging my own grave. I do not believe that my true husband will suspect anything, he is as oblivious to the connection as my dear cousin Lucy is oblivious to the track. I will inform him of my living arrangements here, and that I am now married to a much better fit man for my life. I know that this cowardly fellow will not keep his mouth shut unless I give him money, so that is something that I will discuss with him at a later time. I plan to finish with the fact that he may express no surprise. I feel that if I sign my name, someone will be able to figure out my secret, so an A should fit for now. 

Dear Diary,
OH! HOW I HATE THAT MAN!!! My discontent with him has risen two-fold! Not only has he disgraced my dwelling with his own appearance, but he has brought back that half-wit which I have a pure hate for and had been banished from this property by my husband. Tonight, I was in my garden when I heard a rustling in the grass. That was the moment that held my meeting with the idiot and brought to light his new abode with the trainer. He brought with him a note, one that makes me hate that devil more than I realized was possible. He told me that he would only keep our secret if I payed him two thousand pounds within the week. I grew angry and wanted to scream at the baboon that stared blankly at me, but while I do not like him, he doesn't deserve as much hatred as the other fellow does. I had to agree with Conyers' terms, though. I cannot have my secret come to light. John simply cannot see that I have taken out that amount of money and his trainer is suddenly two thousand pounds richer. I will need to meet with my papa and get my money from him.

Dear Diary,
I have met with my father tonight. Oh, what a stubborn old fool he can be. All I asked of him was the money, and he tried to implore me for new information. He even went as far as thinking I had grown tired of my faithful puppet to go in search of a new one! What a silly man, my dear John is too good to me. He deserves nothing of my old life, my youthful mistake. Neither do! What a foolish haunting that has come back. Nonetheless, it shall be gone in the morning when my clueless father has given me my money. The money that will bind this horror into secrecy forever.