I was surprised to find a letter from Thomas waiting at my digs. I hadn’t heard from him since I’d returned to Canada, when Aubrey had handed me a packet of letters that had arrived over the years that I’d been away.
“I don’t understand.”
“I convinced your mother not to burn them. Apparently she isn’t very fond of your friend Thomas.”
“Thank you. No, she isn’t, although I never understood why.” It made sense Thomas would send those letters to the last address he had for me. While I’d written to Lady Eugenia periodically to let her know my whereabouts, I’d been long gone before a response could reach me.
The letters were chatty, similar in tone to what he’d written before the war, and I couldn’t understand why he’d written so many that frankly said nothing. If I had any sense, I’d burn
