Dear Philippa,

I have enclosed a letter from our Francesca with this missive, which I trust you will be pleased to peruse, not only for the interest which any communication from her must arouse, but also because I fear she has become much plagued by Auntishness, a condition which your commonsense doctoring will surely help to correct.

Though for my own part, I dare say that being a Vicar's Wife would be quite a suitable position for which to apply. What a pity it is that one cannot do so, as a talented young man wishing to become an attorney might. I cannot say that I feel any great amount of devotion to the works of the Lord, but perhaps a rather old and stupid Vicar wouldn't notice. Nor, I suppose, would a young and frivolous one who is only a Vicar because his father insisted and who might appreciate a lively wife who knew 5 or 6 synonyms for "complexion", even if she were of very little earthly good in all other respects. Now that I think on it, I do believe I might be of assistance in the writing of sermons.

It has been a rather dreary Sunday, and I must say that I shall be glad to see the morrow, despite the fact that it means I must perfect a description of Bramble Water and its marvels that shall satisfy the publisher of The Lady's Garden of Youth & Apothecary. Perhaps I shall suggest that evidence from Anglo-Saxon wills would indicate that Anglo-Saxon ladies have enjoyed its Rejuvenating Effects since Time Immorial. My publisher will no doubt be displeased with this, as he has informed me in highly pompous tones that Ladies must not be confused with scientific reasons (Science, in this case, being any reason that he hasn't thought of himself). He would certainly be surprised to find that I am a female, though clearly, in my understanding, however rudimentary, of Science, I am no Lady. I do find that I enjoy styling my handwriting after my late uncle, who was of a manly and extremely uncongenial disposition, in my correspondance with Mr. Minsterprude.

I trust that your studies continue well, and that I shall see you before many more weeks have passed. I must go, but if you wish you may ask Elizabette about the little episode which occurred between me and Mr. Strongwin's brother-in-law, for it is a rather droll tale and I told her about it in my last letter.

Yours,
Annika Fox