Dear ―,
I hope this letter finds you well though, judging by our last encounter only two days since, I can scarcely imagine you have managed to shift the general air of dilapidation that I observed on the occasion. It was a strange encounter, indeed, and it was clear that neither of us had expected to see the other in that place and – although not a word was said – I felt an unspoken distance had opened up between us. I wish that I could claim innocence in all of this, but the truth is, I have been quite glad to avoid you at all costs. Please don’t take offence at my refusal to be forthcoming in friendship, or that I have ignored your numerous attempts to progress our acquaintance beyond mere civilities, but you must understand that I simply cannot afford to get tangled up in the mess that is your life at present. You see, although you presume to find something in common due to our mutual way of life – shall we say – I have to tell you that you couldn’t be further from the truth, and I would sooner be friendly with you on that basis than a lion would befriend a tiger on the basis of their mutual “catness” (excuse the illiteration). You may think my stand point on all this rather harsh, but my serenity must be put first at the cost – even – of common decency. I wish you well on your journey and sincerely hope that, before too long, you’ll manage to navigate your rickety, old fishing boat beyond coastal waters. As for me, I am currently making significant headway across the clear, calm waters of the deep blue ocean, with sails unfurled – going at a considerable clip, with a full and disciplined crew in charge of my handsome little schooner, Bessy. Even the lowliest of my crew were quick to point out that I should have spelled it “B-e-s-s-i-e”, but I told them to mind their own station and leave me to the job of naming my vessel! Since then, they have gone about their work quite silently and I must say, it rather suits me to be out here at sea, in fine weather, with a ship full of rugged, hands-on – but sensitive – men folk! By the time you read this letter, we’ll have no doubt passed the Tropic of Capricorn and be well on our way to the middle of – wherever takes our fancy. I wish I had more time to describe the various goings on of a well-managed ship but at present, my first mate, Jack, is rather desirous of my time and says I must go and attend to the crew, who are all rather hungry – wink, wink – nudge, nudge! I could go on writing to you for hours and hours; not because I want to entertain you, but because I like the sound of my own quill. Anyway, don’t be too sour about all this my old chum – I’m sure you have plenty to do back there amongst the rocks and bilge water. I bid you adieu and leave you with no hard feelings – I expect you’ll do the same.
Bon voyage – to me, at least! Haha!
Lady Rochefort de Bassompierre III