De-centred Duchess

This story takes place in a gloomy castle, in the outskirts of the world, just a couple of months before Alaska became admitted as the 49th state of the U.S.

Hello dear friend. I thought I would never see you once again. Let me tell you of what have happened to me three years ago. How I am doing? Very well, thank you. Now listen:

Two years ago, I rode out in the forest, not far away from here. There I found the body of a young man. Not much of him left I would say. Must have fallen victim of the wolves haunting this place. Anyhow, on him I found a wallet. It contained a few dollars and a note. Nature had taken its told and the note was only half readable. It read as the following, if I remember correctly:

--
My Dear Duc(…) Your sweet heart and actions makes me smile and (…) Just seeing you spinning around, alive and well (…) Be aware. I think he is on to you. (…)
--

I never figured out who he was or why he had not taken better care of himself. You know, how strange it is, that I never figured out why he died. Almost as big a mystery as to why I felt the urge to tell you this story before we even shook hands! So enough about me. How are you? And what in earth is the awful picture doing on your wall?