Chapter 8 #2
My father has requested my presence for the Christmas holiday and so it will be many months before you are able to hug, squeeze, pat, or kiss me.
If only you could do so in letters. Giggle and smile for me, pet.
Until then, manage my quarterly allowance, enclosed herein, and continue to formulate the tedious but necessary aspects of our venture.
Your rendering of St. Clair Shipwrights’ proposed first ship was well done. However, the main mast was set too far forward. The proper relation of center keel and mast placement is critical if you expect it to handle properly.
Yours in Largesse,
Julian
Notfelle, April 18, 1755
Dearest Julian,
Happy Birthday and Easter. It has been a month since your last letter, and I did not receive your allowance to place on account at Mr. Cox’s. I trust you are happily occupied with learning the finer points of spar making.
My father has ceased paying Clara’s wages, and my entire body burns with anger.
At dinner I blurted out my disapproval, and he struck my cheek, knocking me from my chair.
Speaking to me directly, mind you, he ordered me to fast for three days.
Father Dunlevy attempted to dissuade him but to no avail.
After dinner, I overheard my father discussing my marriage prospects with Father Dunlevy. And me not even four and ten! The Good Father told him I was too young. But just contemplating this has cured me of my hunger.
Yours in Desolation,
Kitty
Southampton, May 3, 1755
Dear Someone’s Future Wife,
I find it difficult to imagine anyone marrying the silliest and smartest girl in England. But with Father Dunlevy’s God, it seems all things might be possible.
I want to knock Sir Jeffrey to the next world. Tell him to sod off next time he orders you to fast. You can hardly stand to lose an ounce. Men prefer their women with ripe curves where they can place their hands and lay that lend a beguiling softness to portraiture.
During my annual visit to Hell, otherwise known as The Earl of Tindall’s Easter, my father inquired upon my future plans.
That is, his plans. He expects me to utilize my vast knowledge acquired at Eton to attend university.
He said, “Oxford, as your brother, though I suspect you’ll not reach his accomplishments, it is worthy of amusement. ”
His derision was expected, given our history.
Also because I fractured my right hand when the shear legs collapsed while lifting a mast. Arriving “home” with a splint, what else could I do but tell the noble rotter that I had been drunk and fell from a roof whilst aiming a piss on a mate’s head.
Ah, but it is my greatest pleasure to nurture his disappointment in me.
Soon, I must find men to bribe at Oxford.
Yours in Crime,
Julian
Notfelle, December 6, 1755
Julian,
Today I learned the most horrific, humiliating aspect of my female existence.
In short, I have been deemed a woman. I’ll not go into the details for your sake, but this curse will continue to visit me monthly, per Georgiana, and that is not the horrific part.
My body, previously a friend, albeit short and straight, has betrayed me in a desire to make children.
Oh, but that is still not the worst. When a female marries, her husband breeds her like a horse.
A goat. A barn cat. I have seen these acts, Julian, and I cannot stomach the very idea I should be mounted, bitten, and slobbered upon.
Please write back as soon as you receive my letter to refute Georgiana’s claims. I shan’t be able to sleep until you do.
If you do not visit me soon, I’ll perish before this horrid defilement occurs. No, I shall never marry. But I will succumb to melancholy if you continue to shun my presence.
Yours in Abject Agony,
Kitty
Southampton, January 15, 1756
Dearest Katherine,
Take note, I’ve used your given name in honor of your passage into womanhood. Many happy felicitations.
My apologies for the delay in refuting Georgiana’s appalling assertions. Unfortunately, I cannot deny their veracity. Human males do mount and bite, and I’ll assume some drool. Hear me out before you scream and tear up this letter.
Your goal is to enjoy it. Maybe not the drool, but even so, there are pleasurable applications for an excess of saliva. But I digress. When executed properly, mating with your husband is the most enjoyable activity to be had on earth. I will not overwhelm you with the details.
I have also included a portion of my quarterly allowance and my Christmas gift to you.
If you never marry, at least your hand will have known the sentiment every woman dreams of and every man avoids until they are driven insane by a woman who will not allow them to mount, bite, and drool without it.
Now for the hardest part of this letter.
Kit Greville and I have signed on with a privateering vessel and will depart England the first of March.
My commitments to Honeycutt do not allow me leave to visit you before then.
I will be gone for at least a year but will write to you when able.
I have asked/bribed Anthony Philips to remand to you my allowance.
You know that our dreams are hard fought. You understand me more than any soul on this earth or in heaven. Be strong. When you giggle, think of me. And smile, pet.
Yours in Dreams,
Julian