inamorata

Elsewhere, she tells her inamorata, “It does not matter if you elude my arms/my dear, when thought alone can imprison you.”

The Cimmerian darkness which surrounded Van Twiller's inamorata left us free to indulge in the wildest conjectures.

In a capital chorus he is told by Marullo and the others that they have abducted Rigoletto's inamorata.

He even composed the billets-doux which the illiterate lover sent to his inamorata.