Governess Penelope and a Duke

Dearest Agatha,

Though it pains me to hear of your husband’s death and your troubles I am most thankful and eager to accept your offer of a place within your household. Only recently, I asked myself what shall become of me. Your letter came as an answer to that question.

My father, as you know, has declared that he has no use for me, nor does he care for my future, since I refused his friend’s proposal. Believe me, dear Agatha, I wished I was a less fastidious woman to whom the simplicity of a roof over my head and a comfortable home were enough. Sadly, I am not. My heart desires love above such things, but alas, it is something that has eluded me these twenty-six years. Since I cannot persuade myself nor bend my will to accept his friend’s offer, my father no longer wishes to know me. He has cast me adrift. Truly, your letter was a rope to a drowning person, but enough of such things. Let us turn our minds to happier thoughts, such as our reunion.

How I have missed you these fourteen years. Letters have served as our only communication, but mere missives could never convey all I wished to say. I very much look forward to seeing you again, my friend, and finally meeting your lovely daughter, Christine. How old is she now? Sixteen? What a wonderful age. I remember it well. Has she been presented in court? Your husband’s death changed many things, and you could have postponed Christine’s debut into society, but if she is willing, I would be most eager to help her prepare. I will make all the arrangements as soon as possible.

I know what you will ask in your next letter, but do not trouble yourself. I will answer you now. No, I will not miss this house. The only person I will miss is Marina. Indeed, my sister will be the only one who will miss me. My mother remains lost in the haze of her laudanum to forget my father’s misanthropic activities, and apart from his anger toward me, he is busy trying to secure another loan. His gambling has completely taken him over of late. I fear it may be the ruination of the whole family. I pray not, but my hope is not in it. I fear it is only a matter of time, but I will elaborate more on that when I can see you.

Your dearest friend,

Penny