Rose-hill, Sept. 18.
If I was not certain of your esteem and friendship, my dear Rivers, I should tremble at the request I am going to make you.
It is to suspend our marriage for some time, and not ask me the reason of this delay.
Be assured of my tenderness; be assured my whole soul is yours, that you are dearer to me than life, that I love you as never woman loved; that I live, I breathe but for you; that I would die to make you happy.
In what words shall I convey to the most beloved of his sex, the ardent tenderness of my soul? how convince him of what I suffer from being forced to make a request so contrary to the dictates of my heart?
He cannot, will not doubt his Emily’s affection: I cannot support the idea that it is possible he should for one instant. What I suffer at this moment is inexpressible.
My heart is too much agitated to say more.
I will write again in a few days.
I know not what I would say; but indeed, my Rivers, I love you; you yourself can scarce form an idea to what excess!
Adieu! Your faithful
Emily Montague.