My Dearest Jane
Please help me I implore you, for I find myself in the most frightful state these past months and just don’t know what to do for the best.
Last July I met a gentleman at a ball being held by his cruel guardian and now find myself regarding him with the deepest affection despite my finest instincts and the advice of my dearest Mama and Papa.
The gentleman is extremely high born you see and I fear that my station is too far beneath his own for there to be anything other than a cool and distant regard for one another which at times may even border on dislike.
I have tried all in my power to portray my affection for him these past months. I have visited him at his sumptuous residence where I played a duet on the pianoforte accompanied by his pretty, yet frail sister. I have ventured into the countryside alone, unsuitably dressed for the clime in just a flimsy, white cotton dress, knowing that he’d be out riding at that hour and hoping against all hope that I’d get the chance to stumble into his path and be knocked headlong into some shrubbery so that he might leap from his mount and minister to me tenderly.
I have even spread a most spurious rumour in the village that I am to marry the curate, a most disagreeable and obsequious wretch whom I despise and whom I will eventually palm off on one of my more desperate sisters.
I do all this in the vain hope that jealousy may cause the scales of apathy to fall from his eyes and that he will finally realise that he loves me more than life itself.
And yet, despite my most ardent efforts, his mien remains distant and aloof. He spurns me at every turn and wont even glance in my direction when I stand beside the lake, waiting for him to finish his afternoon swim with all his clothes on.
I beg you most fervently to help me my dearest Jane. My passion for this gentleman is so ardent that I fear that without gaining his affections I may just fade and die.
Have you tried getting your tits out in front of him in the woods?
Your most affectionate friend
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