Room 303, Sunday Evening
Jun. 16th, 2024 10:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mustbeawitchLydia had spent much of the day painstakingly writing out a fresh copy of her primer on the 21st century for Captain Flint (with rather less of a focus upon the functions of the Dyson Airwrap, but featuring new information like the importance of sunscreen), and then catching up on her correspondence. She had read and written responses to several letters she had been saving up, and now she had one more she wanted to get to, which she had left for last because, well, writing to her family was always a struggle. Most of what she could tell them was information Wickham had dutifully, if somewhat laboriously given his own difficulties with the written word, relayed to her from Sainte Josephine, but if she didn't write to them at all she knew they would worry--and Elizabeth would grow suspicious of her robust correspondence with Georgiana.
Dearest Father,
Today upon this island is set aside for honoring one's father, and so I thought to write in appreciation of you and everything you have done for our family...
Which was...uh...well, he had looked for Lydia quite dutifully when he'd thought Wickham had eloped with her, but she could hardly mention that. But as he had spent most of Lydia's childhood in his bookroom, it wasn't as if she had many fond memories to reminisce upon, either. At least, she realized after she had relayed some bits of gossip from Wickham--not that her father would care, but they would entertain her mother when she read the letter after him--she had one piece of news of her own to share.
The island's bookshop, which has been closed up since my arrival, has recently come into new hands. A Captain Flint (late of His Majesty's navy, I suppose) has decided to open it up again, though he is not yet prepared to receive custom and so I was unable to select a title to include as a 'Father's Day' present. (Not that Lydia could have sent him a modern book, and she could hardly imagine that a bookshop on Sainte Josephine would have anything her father couldn't easily and more cheaply acquire from London, but she was filing it under 'the thought counted.' Perhaps you might suggest a volume or two I might seek out for my own education, when it is possible to do so? Would the books still be in print? Would Lydia actually read them if they were? Doubtful on both counts, but wilder things had happened.
Your loving daughter,
Lydia Wickham
There. That should suffice. She folded, addressed, and sealed it, and set it with the stack that would require special processing at the post office, since they would need to arrive via Sainte Josephine, 1810, and not directly from Fandom like the ones for Wickham and Miss Lambe could. Lord, but her hand ached! If only she had some magic she needed to do at present.
(Mostly establishy, but the door to her room is cracked and she's available for calls or texts if you like!)
Dearest Father,
Today upon this island is set aside for honoring one's father, and so I thought to write in appreciation of you and everything you have done for our family...
Which was...uh...well, he had looked for Lydia quite dutifully when he'd thought Wickham had eloped with her, but she could hardly mention that. But as he had spent most of Lydia's childhood in his bookroom, it wasn't as if she had many fond memories to reminisce upon, either. At least, she realized after she had relayed some bits of gossip from Wickham--not that her father would care, but they would entertain her mother when she read the letter after him--she had one piece of news of her own to share.
The island's bookshop, which has been closed up since my arrival, has recently come into new hands. A Captain Flint (late of His Majesty's navy, I suppose) has decided to open it up again, though he is not yet prepared to receive custom and so I was unable to select a title to include as a 'Father's Day' present. (Not that Lydia could have sent him a modern book, and she could hardly imagine that a bookshop on Sainte Josephine would have anything her father couldn't easily and more cheaply acquire from London, but she was filing it under 'the thought counted.' Perhaps you might suggest a volume or two I might seek out for my own education, when it is possible to do so? Would the books still be in print? Would Lydia actually read them if they were? Doubtful on both counts, but wilder things had happened.
Your loving daughter,
Lydia Wickham
There. That should suffice. She folded, addressed, and sealed it, and set it with the stack that would require special processing at the post office, since they would need to arrive via Sainte Josephine, 1810, and not directly from Fandom like the ones for Wickham and Miss Lambe could. Lord, but her hand ached! If only she had some magic she needed to do at present.
(Mostly establishy, but the door to her room is cracked and she's available for calls or texts if you like!)
