You will never believe where I am writing from, dearest Booke!
I am at Wansdyke, in a wonderful bedroom right next to Catherine’s own, with lots and lots of candles. Catherine has seen that I write and draw a great deal, sometimes late into the evening, and there seems to be no shortage of candles in this beautiful place, nor is there a crosspatch housekeeper to remind me that I am but a guest in my own life.
I am bursting with happiness to have a friend!
It is a strange feeling.
She is not like me at all. She is a great outdoorswoman, and as I have mentioned before, I have seen her ride very rough and fast. She took me out shooting with her groom, which I did not know ladies were allowed to do. I put my hands over my ears out of fear of the loud report of the g*n, and she laughed at m
