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Letter #1 *
Posted on Monday, 16-Nov-98
Author's Note: The collection of letters I shall be posting were written by myself and my younger sister, Nadia, and I have distinguished between them by placing an asterik (*) at the title of my letters, and a plus (+) at the top of hers, so that you can know who is the author.
From:
Lord Laurence Fontaine
Mastercharm Castle,
Dover, Kent
To:
Giles Mortimer,
Mortimer Castle,
the Marches
Thy pen beeth mightier than thy sword
beg. of summer
in the year of
our Lord, 18--
Giles, ole chum:
So bloody good to be able to write to you, old boy. So blasted hot here at Mastercarm, gets in the bloody way of hunting and all that. Mother's quite determined I be the "genteel" gentleman and call on all our neighbors - such a bloody bore I tell you! All those silly girls and idiotic brothers - sink me if I can bear it for another fortnight! I am quite determined to escape to Aunt Helena's. She's back at her estate in Derbyshire, Lyme Hall you know - the one I envy Jerry in inheriting - and has asked me to visit her anytime I'm in the neighborhood. Granted, old boy, Dover is not near Derbyshire, but with all these latest scientific technologies, I could get there in a few days, after pausing to visit a few chums on the way.
Zounds, but 'tis bloody hot down here! The Castle and all its inhabitants are well-nigh melting in this blasted heat! Master's the only one going around with an indifferent shrug. He's too caught up in courting Miss Evelina Burney but what he sees in her - sink me if I know! I am quite determined to escape all those wily forceful mamas and their thrusted-forward daughters. The only girl with any intelligence is my sister Felly, and that's b'coz she has the good sense not to become a lady. Mother smiles rather indulgently but refuses to second my applause. Master always snorts a "Just wait for five years, Felly, then you'll sing a different tune."
"And yet," replies she. "I am quite determined to sing no tune at all."
"Do you mean to say," Miss Burney inquired with an incredulous air, "that you wish to cultivate no singing talent in your voice?"
"What a shame," Master hastened to agree - the pompous fool.
"I commend my sister in her sensibilities," I told them all, whilst shuffling the cards for our game of whist.
"Oh Lord Laurence!" bemoans poor Miss Burney, with a horrified glance at Mother.
I tell you, I cannot wait until she and her parents remove themselves back to the North Country. I know the distance warranted them a lengthy stay to visit at our Castle, but blast it! I've had my fill of "Oh Lord Laurence!"s!!
Now that's something Coz Tay would never say - that's for certain! She's the only other female I can tolerate besides Mother and Felly, but she's currently visiting her Aunt in Paris.
Well, write to me, old boy. Things get bloody boring down here and I should well-nigh die were it not for the impending visit to Lyme Hall and the anticipation of your letters.
With Regards, & etc
Larry F.
Letter #2 +
From:
Giles Mortimer,
Mortimer Castle,
the Marches
To:
Laurence Fontaine
Mastercharm Castle,
Dover,
Kent
Though Right For A Time Rests . . .
Letter #3 *
To Be Delivered To:
Countess Vivaine
Mortimer Castle
The Marches
From:
Mrs. Pamela Burney
Mastercharm Castle
Dover
Kent
Burn for the Burneys
End of June
My dearest Vivaine,
How saddened I was to hear of Thomas' - dear Thomas! - demise; how sad, how utterly sad! I cried for thinking of you, rightful mistress of The Marches being so ungallantly pushed aside by some young rascal, hardly beknown to your late husband even! You must pardon me, my sweet friend, that I send my condolences in such a tardy manner, but I have only just heard of the awful news last night at dinner. I have mentioned, have I not? of my dear daughter's impending engagement to Lord Hampton? Since his own father passed away not but a year ago, he has been most diligently searching for a perfect bride, and I flatter myself in thinking he's found her in my own Evelina. For this month or two, we have been getting to know Lord Hampton's family and visiting his grand estate in Dover. It is from there that I write you. Just the other night, whilst we were at our dinner, and I was casting a chaperonely eye at my Evelina and her Lord Hampton (for it does not do to make him think she is either vulgar or fast, both of which she most emphatically is Not!), milord's younger brother - I believe his name to be Leslie; or was it Lance? No matter, He is of no importance, but he happened to choke over his glass of Burgandy and we all waited rather patiently for an explanation of this sudden burst of unmannerly conduct, which his mother, a fine genteel lady to be sure, did Not take advantage of to give him a proper upbraiding - I am positively certain she spoils him - and while my own dear delicately smothered a gentle yawn, he coughed.
"Sorry! Didn't mean for the dramatics, I just remembered something. Honestly, Frank, I am completely fine," this to his steward who hovered anxiously around his master. "Only thought I'd tell you, Mother, since you enquired over Giles" - had she? I do not quite remember, but then I Had been busily engaged in making certain Evelina's smiles were not too constant - "He's just inherited the Marches."
"The Marches!" said I, abruptly fixing my attention to the young rascal. "Why certainly you cannot mean The Marches!" I regret to say, my dear Vivaine, that I am absolutely certain the boy had the Impudence to - dare I mention it - Roll His Eyes.
"My dear Madame," said he. "I most certainly mean the Marches. Giles," he continued, turning to address his mother seated at the head of the table on his right, "has finally inherited from that miserly Uncle Scrooge of his whom everyone expected would live forever just to spite them all."
"You Can't mean dear Lord Thomas!" I gasped.
"My dear Madame," he was so good as to return. "I most certainly mean Lord Thomas - if that is the name of Giles' Great Uncle." Did I indeed hear a slight muffled cough from milady? At any rate, she held her napkin to her lips. Perhaps she was catching a cold for the dining hall, if I might venture an opinion, is rather drafty. She begged her son to continue and he did, thus:
"The old man finally died and left his estate to be inherited, by entailment, by my dearest chum Giles Mortimer." What a shocking, most callous way to deliver such news of such saddening magnitude!
"I shall faint, perhaps," I deemed it necessary to inform my hostess, and she was all kindness in having me escorted to my own chambers. I simply had to send my tearful regrets to my dearest Vivaine! How well I recall your dear husband, and what a good Christian man he was! It seemed like only yesterday when Francis and I bestowed a visit (though in truth its been these many years now), and still how I recall the elegance of your countenance and the beauty of your estate. It is such a pity that some young no-good-do'er will take over the Marches - and a no-good-do'er I am positive that Certain Young Man is, be he friends with that Lance as proof enough. What a shame he is not more alike his brother, the Marquis of Mastercharm. Suche pleasing ways and handsome manner I have never seen in such a gallant gentleman! It pleases me much to think of him as my son in the future, God Willing. If ever, my dear friend, you desire a change in scene to escape your sorrow, you must not hesitate in visiting us at Harding House in the North Country. We shall be returning there in a fortnight or so, and you must not forget we will welcome you warmly for I have the pleasure of begging you to mind that I remain, most dearly, your caring sister in friendship,
Pamela Burney
Letter #4 +
To Be Delivered To:
Lady Helena Lyggon
Lyme Hall
Derbyshire
From:
Miss Anna Aldenwood
Blossom View Manor
Somerset
Dear, kind Lady Helena,
Thank you ever so much for inviting me to join you at Lyme Hall. It was good of you, and I would have enjoyed it much, only - I daren't presume. Mama could never countenance the boldness my acceptance would imply, seeing as how we've only met twice before at Grandmere's Victor Halls. Sometimes, now in particular, I believe I shall waste away in this deserted corner of the country. Papa has no sympathy for me at all. He can't seem to possibly comprehend just why it is I don't enjoy a simple life, a promenade in the monotonous hills; milk maids, gossipy married women or toothless hags for company, or all the rigors of country life. I dare say it isn't really so bad as I make out, for there is Miss Bessie at a neighboring manor not too very far, but we've known each other so long she might as well be my sister. Mama can understand how I feel, but refuses to encourage me, not ever having been gentry. Yet Papa is an Alden, even if he's added the Wood for some silly reason or other. He may be a mere third son, but I should hope that we were considered more of the family. I don't look upon my visits to Grandmother Genavieve's house every other year as very close ties. Anyhow, I have always claimed a marked contempt for those girls who whine and complain. Now I find myself in the embarrassing situation of having to apologize for doing so myself.
I have received word from my sister, Jane. You've met her once, but I expect you've forgotten. She is rather ordinary and abominably shy. Papa declares often that there can never have been sisters more unalike in history. I trust he means in looks as well, for dear as poor Jane may be to me, she's an awfully thin, unremarkable thing. Nurse berates me for being incurably vain, for I could never be content with being only pretty in a common way and have just fine eyes! Well, enough about my spiritual and my sister's physical faults. She wrote because she wishes to end her companionship with the austere Dowager Countess Vivaine. She doesn't explain anything but I have the oddest impression that she's in mortal fear of the new earl of the Marches. I've persuaded Papa to take me along when he goes for her. I so long to see Mortimer Castle! I must admit, though, to some confusion on my part. For though Jane can be rather spineless in behavior, I am positive that she must have an underlying courage to be able to bear the impossible, imperious, haughty, demanding, rude, troublesome and quarrelsome Dowager Countess for so long. There! I have exhausted my vocabulary. But you do realize, my dear lady, that the new earl must be sight more horrid and boorish to intimidate her so. I do hope he is not an ill-mannered rogue with the intention of taking advantage of her. I confess that thinking this (or is it 'the very thought') is quite enough to make me feel like boxing that horrid man's ears and gathering poor Jane in a protective embrace. Though I can't imagine that I'll ever have the chance to box an Earl's ears, but I pretend none-the-less. Jane has that effect on me even though she is nearly five years my senior!
Thank you again, Lady Helena, for inviting me. And even more so for reading this rambling letter of mine. I always knew you were a swell one (as my brother Dan would put it) and Papa says I'm very perceptive. Maybe we'll meet in London, do you think? I would invite you here except that it holds so little charm. Besides, I intend to make Mama and Papa give me a Season. After all, I Am 16! I am very confident, too, for when I put my mind to persuade someone, I always succeed! Oh dear! That does sound rather like boasting. So sorry! I meant it to be determination. By now I really have been forward, haven't I? Only, you do have such kind eyes that when you said you'd like to hear from me, I did assume that you meant it. I should end this letter now, for Bobby, the postboy, shall arrive shortly. Our foolishly impeccable butler Witkins will be waiting to hand it over. My my! I must say that I impress myself with my own intelligent-sounding words!! I'm just joking, of course, Lady Helena.
With Much Regard,
& Good Will & A lot of Repetition
I sign as
Anna Aldenwood
Letter #5 *
To Be Delivered To:
Miss Jane Aldenwood
Mortimer Castle
the Marches
From:
Lady Felicia Fontaine
Mastercharm Castle
Dover, Kent
Pen beeth pen and sword beeth sword
Hullo, sweet Jane! (or should I have properly written: Miss Aldenwood?)
I thought I simply must pen you a letter of thanks for that simply gorgeous bouquet you sent me for my birthday last week. Nelly was simply pea-green with envy.
"Who sent it?" she demanded to know, hopping about in an attempt to read the enclosed card nestled amongst the flowers. "A secret admirer I know nothing of?"
"Oh, Nelly, you mustn't be so silly," I chided her, while side-stepping her reaches. "You know I am quite determined to have no beaux at all!"
"Well I dare say 'tis easy for you to disown them when you have such handsome brothers of your own."
"Don't start pouting like Evelina now!" I begged of her. "But I suppose Larry is rather good-looking, though I shouldn't say the same of Master."
"How can you think so?" cried my friend in a horrified manner Evey herself would envy. "Lord Hampton has Such a countenance, Such grace . . ."
"And Such pomposity that is quite beyond my capacity to bear." But I am not entirely serious, dear Jane, so you must Not be shocked. An yet I cannot tell a lie for I am not fond of Master now that he's given his heart to that "silly simpering chit" as Larry says. Such a bloody bore.
Oops! Jane, do not chastise me for my language, for I am sure you must have fainted at my words. Did you indeed? If so, I hope you have not sustained Such an injury, as Silly Nelly would say.
How delightful that your sister shall be visiting you at the Marches! I hope she is not a "silly chit" like Evey, but I take heart in the fact you commend her so. It was sweet of you to write praying we would be friends if ever we meet since she is but two years my senior - for you are very sweet, Jane, and very good. I am so happy we met last Season at my Aunt's! You have been such a mentor and friend to me, I dare say I should've turned out more wild than ever, were it not for your kind reproaches.
Perhaps, but you mustn't tell a soul, and Especially Not Larry (it'd break his heart, poor thing!), but perhaps under your guidance I shall emerge a lady from my current hoyden-ish state, and if it displeases you so, I shall try not saying "bloody" (please don't faint Jane!) again - Honest and Truly. Cross My Heart and Hope To Die!
Larry tells me he wishes to invite Giles; if he shall have his chum, I insist on having mine and so you must come down to Mastercharm when Giles does - promise?
I so long to see you again, though I dare say you'll chide me something awful, but I take heart that I shall find your sweet face smiling at me?
Do you know, Jane, I rather think of you as good and virtuous as Our Lady. When I told Larry so, he merely laughed but when that nosy, pompous Mrs. Burney heard me, she declared she'd faint, which is the most ridiculous thing ever for a sturdier, plumper body I've never seen and I dare say it houses an even stronger constitution; if her appetite can be taken into account!
Well my horrid governess is calling for me to conjugate my French verbs which I supposedly am working on at this moment - horrid stuff. So I leave you with a plea not to forget to write to me!
With Much Much Love,
Felly Fontaine
PS - Miss Aldenwood: I know 'tis vulgar to write on envelopes, but how'd you like the family motto I changed? Larry helped me.
Letter #6 +
To Be Delivered To:
The fair Evelina Burney
Mastercharm Castle
Dover
From:
Alec, Viscount of the Marches
Mortimer Castle
the Marches
O Perfection! Thou Sweet Angel!
How I have longed to write you but didn't dare since I was Without Means. It has been absolute torture being away from your Beautiful Face and So Very Lovely Smile. How I wish you would honor me with one once more! For now I need not keep my distance - such fortune having befallen to me - but now I no longer dare, since my brother gave me the news of your understanding with that - that foolish crack-jack "Master"! Please, dearest, assure me that what I hear is false! Cruel slanders meant merely to tear my poor, lost heart! Not the cold, damning truth! O Sweetest Evelina! Even your mother cannot fault me now that I am a Viscount. And I treasure you and your family more than your "Master" or any other. Why, I swear, I did not laugh with the rest at Mortimer Castle when the uppity Dowager discredited your very dear mother and her touching letter.
I can think of no one but you. I have tried fruitlessly to put you from my mind as you bid me at Bath on that Cruel Day. Why, I even refused to believe the Darwin Theory so popular now in our circles because I was sure your loveliness could never have known Such Distasteful Ancestors. Promise me that you do indeed care still - for I have Remained True Despite Distractions.
Though a new arrival has entered our household, I could never appreciate her beauty, for it pales before Your Perfection. Though Giles, my adored brother, will laugh at me for my love for you, I lay my heart before you now.
I wish very much to make you may Viscomptesse, but I dare not state my intentions before your respected father without your Much Longed-For and Sought-Out Consent.
I have composed a poem telling of your Absolute Superiority to All-Other Females. It reads:
Such lovely eyes,
like deep pools with drowned stars,
grace a face so perfect,
one without marrs.Such heavenly sweetness,
like honey in spring,
the voice and smile,
of a divine being.
~Your Very Devoted Servant,
and Besotted Beau,
Alec Bonville