Duchess of the Shire

I have not known what to write after I opened the second letter from my 'most courteous servant'. It was nothing so shocking that my speech was lost, but rather it was diminished to a humbled whisper and I needed the time to think of an eloquent response before throwing myself into an egotistical tirade (which we all know I am prone to do).

This is not the first time I have been pursued by an anonymous stranger, (already the ego appears) and I know my reputation often precedes me, so this contact shouldn't be of any surprise. Nevertheless, as far as I am aware, this 'most courteous servant' knows more about me than I thought possible; especially as he resides here in deepest Bohemia. I dread to think how my reputation has scaled an entire continent!

It worries me slightly that he seems to have the entire measure of me, whereas I know nothing, save that he employs rather unrefined characters to deliver his messages. His latest letter left a bitter sweet taste in my mouth:

I'm sure there is a polite way to refuse attending a ball in my honour, but I am torn between disappearing for the weekend (which is only four days away now!) or doing as I'm told ~ but only because my curiosity will no doubt get the better of me. Being overtly polite to someone who has openly called me 'condescending' is not something I can handle. There is no being 'the bigger person' when I may as well give this gentleman his dues and act accordingly. If that's what he wants and who he is expecting, then who am I to deny him? Especially as I am so generous.

Sarcasm is my only saving grace against an egotistical tirade, and I know I am still not doing myself any justice by proving my flaws. I know my flaws. I do not need them pointed out to me by a man I have never met. There is hardly any time to pen a reply to his letter. So I shall just wait for the weekend and make a spur of the moment decision. 



D. S.