11 — Deeper into the WoodsFrom Elizabeth Darcy to Fitzwilliam Darcy
Pemberley, Derbyshire, August 23/24
My dearest Darcy Father Goose,
I am livid.
I have been in a foul mood all day, for no reason that I can credit (aside from my monthly visitor), and have learned something just now that has tipped my ill humor to full, righteous rage.
And you will never guess who was the instigator and target of that rage.
Go on and guess.
Why yes, my clever husband, it was my bosom friend Elizabeth Giniver, Lady Malkin. How insightful of you to guess!
No, she has not written.
No, she has not come to visit.
Yet even so, she has managed to make an idyllic day at Pemberley (perfect but for your absence) into a scene from a play — from a particularly dreary melodrama, I should say.
In order to tel
