6 — Not a WarFrom Fitzwilliam Darcy to Elizabeth Darcy
Nr 12, Berkeley Sqr
London
August 17
My Dearest Mrs. Darcy,
I arrived in London after the sun had set. I had tried to start this letter while still on the road from Northampton. However, the quality of the roads after this wet summer, combined with Starkey, the driver, following my admonition to make all haste, made writing en route impossible. (While none are broken, I cannot be certain that none of my bones have been dislocated from each other. How I wish you were here to minister to me!) And so I was reduced to thinking of what I might write to you. I find, as I write these lines, that planning a letter for some twelve hours does not in fact make it any easier to write, and that, perhaps, the opposite may be true.
I had held a
