22 October, 1830

Mansfield Parsonage

My dear Jamie,

Once again I take pen in hand to tell you of a delightful day. I had the loveliest tea with Miss Fulke last Wednesday; I should have written to you sooner to tell you of it, except I have been engrossed in reading The Last of the Mohicans. Truly, it is an amazing tale. I had no idea the Americans had such brilliant writers among their ranks! It appears I have some prejudices of my own to conquer.

To recapitulate, Miss Fulke and I discovered that we have far more in common than otherwise, and we had a delightful time discussing our many common interests. It is so refreshing to talk to another of my own sex who is interested in something beyond fashion and gossip!

Indeed, Miss Fulke refuses to obey the dictates of fashion. She thinks both gigot and beret sleeves perfectly ridiculous, and she will not wear them. I had noticed that her sleeves looked somewhat slimmer than other ladies', but I had not paid that much attention. Miss Fulke also refuses to trim her frocks with anything more than a bit of piping or ribbon, and she wears no jewellery except a simple amber drop on a gold chain which her brother gave her.

Perhaps it is very plain, but I intend to style myself after her. Why should we allow the ton to determine our ease and comfort? I loathed those enormous sleeves of my lovely green dress (there was enough fabric in them to make almost another dress entirely!), and I know they made me look ridiculous.

From here on in, I shall insist on smaller sleeves and simple styles. I know Mama will approve, and I defy my aunts' disapprobation.

But enough of this nonsense about dress. Miss Fulke told me a great deal about Scotland, which I dare not repeat, for I know I shan't do it justice, and I told her all about you and Richard and what fun we had as children together. I mentioned Thea but little, and the odious Isabella not at all. Miss Fulke's motto is: "If you can't say something kind about a person, say rather nothing at all." I fear I could never live up to such a lofty standard, but when I am with her, at least, I shall try to not offend her sense of decency.

The only blot on the day was when Mr. Fulke came in. Jamie, the dreadful man dislikes me! He scowled very blackly when he saw me sitting at ease with his sister. He did not say above two words to me, and when I left, I heard him scolding his sister for inviting me! I promise, I did not try to listen, but the window was open and I could not help but hear.

"Lucy," the dreadful creature said, "What in heaven's name did you invite her for?"

"Why Colin," Miss Fulke said spiritedly, "You are the one who wanted me to make friends here. Miss Bertram is a very congenial companion."

And then he laughed—a short, disagreeable laugh that made my face flush, as it so perfectly expressed his opinion of me.

"Really Lucy, I thought you had sense," he sneered.

"I am sorry you do not like it, Colin, but I am quite fond of Miss Bertram, and I do not intend to stop seeing her. She is the only other young woman with whom I can have an intelligent conversation in this country."

At that point I had to leave, as if I stood listening any longer they might have noticed me. Besides, I wanted to fly into the room and—pull his ears! Really, not even Richard has ever spoken so rudely about me.

Or maybe he has, and I just haven't heard it. Dear me, I am suddenly quite downcast. What if everyone I have always thought likes me is simply being polite to my face?

Jamie, you like me, don't you? I do not think you could pretend to like me if you didn't, so I am secure in your affection, at any rate.

I am mean enough to wish that Aunt de Lacey and Isabella would visit. I should love to see Mr. Fulke fall in love with Isabella. I do believe they deserve each other!

That would leave Miss Fulke with Isabella as a sister, though, and I would not wish that on anybody I had any amount of affection for.

Aside from Mr. Fulke's rudeness, though, it was a perfectly lovely day, and I have invited Miss Fulke to tea here next week, with Mama and me. She has accepted, so apparently she is standing by her determination to not drop our acquaintance simply because her brother is a boor.

Really, I pretend to be quite angry, but underneath it all, I am hurt. I don't know why he should dislike me. I certainly have never done anything to him. I—I am not used to being disliked, Jamie. It is a most unpleasant sensation.

Perhaps I have been too unkind to Thea—yes, and even to Isabella, though she is perfectly odious and I cannot say otherwise! Still, now that I am on the receiving end of someone else's dislike … I would feel horrid if I ever put anyone else through such feelings.

Do write soon, Jamie, and make me quite comfortable in my mind again. For all that I like Miss Fulke so much … her brother's poor opinion of me is shadowing my enjoyment of everything.

Yours,

Cass.