This is the next in the series of posting letters that members wrote and shared during the most recent reading group. The reading group theme was to write letters to or by the Jane Austen character of their choice.
Enjoy, and please check out the rest of the letters!
Enjoy, and please check out the rest of the letters!
Dear Darcy and Elizabeth,
Thank you for your kind inquiry after my health. I feel yet unsettled by my mother’s untimely, grotesque demise. The moment of her horrible accident is forever locked in my heart, and the memory haunts me. Indeed, these many weeks since her funeral I still dread receiving expressions of condolence, for the kind words arouse a terrifying spectacle of Lady Catherine’s death.
Suddenly I see my mother before me as she steps from the great front portico of Rosings. I shiver watching her cross the steps just when a thunderous crack splits the grand stone balcony above the portico; it sways, then crashes down upon her, her desperate scream swallowed up in silence and dust. She is entombed before my eyes---her beloved Rosings hurls her down into the shadowy realm of death.
Had I not my dear Colonel at my side, I should be overcome, quite unable to rise again. He is the best, wisest, and finest of husbands. And now the world acknowledges him the master of Rosings and all it encompasses. We are happy and look forward to quiet, peaceful days ahead.
I remain as always your affectionate cousin,
Anne De Burg Fitzwilliam
Thank you for your kind inquiry after my health. I feel yet unsettled by my mother’s untimely, grotesque demise. The moment of her horrible accident is forever locked in my heart, and the memory haunts me. Indeed, these many weeks since her funeral I still dread receiving expressions of condolence, for the kind words arouse a terrifying spectacle of Lady Catherine’s death.
Suddenly I see my mother before me as she steps from the great front portico of Rosings. I shiver watching her cross the steps just when a thunderous crack splits the grand stone balcony above the portico; it sways, then crashes down upon her, her desperate scream swallowed up in silence and dust. She is entombed before my eyes---her beloved Rosings hurls her down into the shadowy realm of death.
Had I not my dear Colonel at my side, I should be overcome, quite unable to rise again. He is the best, wisest, and finest of husbands. And now the world acknowledges him the master of Rosings and all it encompasses. We are happy and look forward to quiet, peaceful days ahead.
I remain as always your affectionate cousin,
Anne De Burg Fitzwilliam