Besotted: Letters Between Lovers E-book

1 November, 1812
Darcy House, London

My Dearest Elizabeth,
I had hoped to complete my business in town in a few days and return to you tomorrow, but events have conspired to delay my return. My solicitor has additional documents for me to review, and the jeweler has not completed the order to my satisfaction, so I must wait for the new settings to be completed. There was an issue with the wallpaper we chose for our sitting room and another must be selected—Mrs. Reynolds spent no less than an hour recommending replacements and my eyes are swimming with images of birds and flowers. I hope you are happy with the new choice. I am told it is similar to the previous one you had liked.
When I thought I had gotten a handle on things, my horse threw a shoe and the farrier cannot see to him until tomorrow morning.
Fate has decreed I stay in town for the time being and I have made my peace with it. My only regret is that I shall not see you for another week at least. My aunt has been badgering me to visit with her for some time, so I joined her for tea this afternoon. My cousin Victoria Downing was visiting at the same time—she is Col. Fitzwilliam’s elder sister—and she had a great many questions about you. She is wild to meet you. She is the only daughter amongst four sons and none of her brothers has deigned to marry yet, and her husband has no sisters either. She is hopelessly outnumbered and excited to have another woman in the family.
I invited her to the wedding, of course, and she has promised to attend. Her brother, the colonel, will escort her. While I was there, she asked if I had written to you yet and I told her I had not, for I had intended to only be away for a few days. She proceeded to tell me I was making a grave mistake, and that the letters her husband has sent her, even when they were only apart a few days, have remained treasured mementos.
I felt properly chastised and determined to write as soon as I could. Now I sit by the fire in my chamber, writing by lamplight, wishing I was in Hertfordshire with you. Better yet, if I am wishing, I would wish we were both at Pemberley, and already wed, and we could sit before the fire, bundled under a shared blanket, and talk into the night.
I have never enjoyed conversing as much as I do with you. I wonder if it has always been in me and you are the only person who has unearthed this previously unknown trait, or if it is a new development in my character. Regardless of the reason, I enjoy speaking with you immensely and I miss our conversations. I dearly wish we were not parted, but the thought of you cheers me.
I will close now and beg you to write to me in return so that you might assuage my longing for you.
Yours,
FD