Forgive me for intruding upon you at this inopportune time. Father has kept me informed of how busy you have been at Culhough Farm, and I have no desire to burden you with what may transpire in the fullness of time to be yet another of my unfortunate episodes, but if I am permitted a moment of frank and open honesty, truly I must confess that I am wracked with uncertainty as might constitute my undoing.
Of all the people whom it has been my privelege to encounter in my short life to date, you are perhaps my dearest and most trustworthy of friends. You comforted me with such devotion in the long months after we lost our beloved Mother, and I am indebted to you for protecting my honour two years ago this June when Lord Boothroyd's butler took it upon himself to rearrange my bustles behind the shrubbery at Rogeringwood Hall. It will come as no surprise to you that I have once again fallen foul of my own nemesis, on this occasion in the guise of an idle remark, proffered quite without malice or dishonorable intent, which others have subsequently taken as evidence that I am the most shameless of harlots.
I believe you are best placed to offer me wise counsel on my reflections, the better that I may once again walk out with my head held high, my integrity bound by steadfast straps to my heart, and no aspersions cast upon what I believe the people in the village refer to as my "unseemly conduct".
I speak, of course, of my great desire to share even the briefest of moments alone with the handsome Sir Cumberbatch -- a desire it is my discomfort to report has passed from beyond the bounds of my own lips and is now the subject of considerable outrage in the snug room of The Bumpkin & Arsehole. Oh, my sister, it was but the merest whisper as did pass my lips. I yearned only to relieve the stricken gentleman of his sorrow with kind words and the gentlest kiss of affection upon his forlorn brow, but the villagers now speak of me as if I prevailed upon him with base desires uppermost in my mind, such were my unguarded mutterings as I sliced the cucumbers for the sandwiches at Lady Crotchcrust's impromptu gala.
I do believe Spring's emergence fills us all with youthful folly, and it is my misfortune to be more brazen and outspoken about my passions than most, but is it really so shameful to desire that a man blessed with such beauty and grace as Sir Cumberbatch be revealed before one's gaze in a state of partial undress -- and to desire such a spectacle with no profanities spoken and only the softest touch of teeth upon apparel?
Your reply will be generous and truthful, of that I am certain, but I pray also that it will reach me before my next confession this coming Sunday. You alone will appraise me of my behaviour's true portent, and you alone will guide me through my months as a pariah if it is your considered belief that I have sinned and must be shamed.
Do please impress upon Mister Culcough my sincerest hope that a swift cure be found for his unfortunate boil. I know it has upset him greatly during the months since Christmas when he has been unable to take comfort in his beloved rocking chair.
I shall bring this letter to a close now as I fear the onset of another hot flush that would render my script undecipherable, and if I am ultimately to be dishonoured and shamed, it is my wish that I commit to paper at least one more time a signature unsullied by Satan's evil spasms.
Your devoted sister,