Dearest Cecy,
Of course the children must come at once.
Thomas will meet you at the Bull and Mouth in Aldersgate Street. Such is his delight at finding a legitimate reason to leave for London, he intends to set off as soon as possible. With any luck, by the time you read this letter, he will be waiting there to collect the children from you and drinking beer and playing shove ha’penny, no doubt.
I will keep my consternation to myself for the moment, as you have quite enough to deal with for now. But do be careful!
Georgy may well benefit by this circumstance, for she adores the children, and their presence may help to turn her thoughts from whatever troubles her. She still won’t confide in me.
Just between us, Cecy, I doubt Georgy spares a thought for what the Ton says of her. She is afraid of something—if only I knew what—and that fear trumps all rational concerns. I’m sure you are right that putting it about that she has gone to Paris is much the best course of action. I only wish I could persuade her to talk to me. I can bear the curiosity, but I hate worrying about her. Edward and Laurence seem to take up all my customary fretting.
Even more between the two of us, Cecy, I simply cannot contain myself a moment longer. In his haste to leave Skeynes for London, thus neatly avoiding Georgy and all her sighs, Thomas has convinced himself that he is being clever. He (he and Ripley, the coachman, to be exact) will drive to London and back, enjoying himself thoroughly the while. In his view, the mere matter of transporting a number of small children and their nurse adds nothing to the complexity of this endeavor. To you and you alone, Cecy, I must say ha! Ha! And again ha!
There. I feel much better now. When Thomas returns with your children safe and sound, I will be the soul of sympathy as I listen to his heartrending account of the experience. Indeed, I am sure he will deserve my sympathy by then, and I am just as certain that his account will be as entertaining as it is plaintive. But while Thomas is preparing so happily for his latest escape from domestic bliss, I simply had to express my true feelings, and I can trust only you.
You know you can trust us with the children. They will be perfectly safe here, come what may. I know you will do what you must to aid His Grace, but rest assured you may do it with a clear mind where the children are concerned.
Love,
Kate
P.S. Do not, on any account, permit Thomas so much as a glance at this letter. I am already suffused with guilt at having found amusement in the trials he is about to endure. —K.