In Which Lynde and Tom Behave Rather Stupidly, Considering

Lynde Falconer to Thomas Crowder

Dear Tom,

I do not want to put you to too much trouble, but if you have the opportunity, please tell my father that a new threat to Bentlefay’s sovereignty has arisen in the last few days, this time from Norhammer to our north. I am sorry to cast a shadow over the amusement you and your guests are all enjoying in Dumcruckle at present, but as it is a matter of national importance I hope you will forgive me.

They are attacking us on the sea, where they have already sunk a patrol ship. Lives were lost in that battle, so the capital, at least, is in mourning. There is also a personal element to the whole affair in that it seems to have been instigated from within by our old nemesis Mortimer Bleake, who has apparently obtained a position of confidence in Norhammer’s court and is using it for the sake of vengeance.

The situation is very tense and worrisome; however, at least it will be addressed from Seaward by the navy, so you will not be put to any trouble in the matter this time. Once again, I apologize for bringing the outside world into what appears to be a very cozy new circle, but I thought you should know how it is with us at court, in case anyone is interested.

Yours very truly,
Lynde

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Thomas Crowder to Lynde Falconer

Dear Lynde,

This is very distressing news, and all of us here are most anxious at this
new threat to Bentlefay, as well as at the effect it must be having on you personally. Regardless of the idyllic ignorance of which you seem to accuse us, your importance to national security is never far from our minds here.

But I am at a loss to understand why you write so coldly. If it is the new state of war which puts you under strain, please be assured of the regard and support of your family and friends. Mistress Rebecca says to tell you that any race which indulges in steam baths, as she has heard is the fashion in Norhammer, should be easy to defeat in their softness by a cold-bath soldiery such as ours. Minnie thinks that if Bentlefay’s fighting men have half the courage of its schoolmasters, then the war will be won by the time you get this letter. Of course she is biased, but it made me laugh, so I hope it will similarly lift your spirits.

Your own,
Tom

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Lynde Falconer to Thomas Crowder

Tom,

I am sorry if you found my letter cold, but you must admit that the tidings do not lend themselves to the charm to which you appear to have become accustomed. In any case, I supposed you were getting all the warmth you needed from my young cousin, and since according to your letter I was correct, it surprises me that you would notice anything lacking in me. To feign cheerfulness is a burden at present with the political situation so serious, but I will endeavor to alter my behavior in the future to something more to your taste in a wife. You must send me a list of the things my cousin says which you prefer to my gloomy conversation. I would not want you to find anything in my manner to complain of.

Sincerely,
Lynde

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Thomas Crowder to Lynde Falconer

My dear Lynde,

If I didn’t know you so well I would almost believe that you were jealous of my relations with your cousin Minnie. I can only assure you that the mere supposition would be unworthy of you and an insult to her. She is simply a kind and cordial guest, an amusing friend, and seeks to be a good cousin to you and your father. Her feelings toward you are a great deal warmer than yours towards her, and she asks about you every day. I certainly will not hurt her feelings by telling her anything of this correspondence.

As for my own feelings, you do me a disservice. I assure you, all I see in your cousin Minnie is a kind young person who respects my abilities and accomplishments and can converse intelligently. Moving as you do among the highest in the land, and earning their admiration as you go, this may not seem such a rarity to you, but I am disappointed that you begrudge it to me, as such an uncharitable feeling is not at all a sound foundation for marriage.

It is almost time for supper, so I will close this uncomfortable missive and with it, I hope, the subject. Jealousy soils everything it touches, dear Lynde – let us not speak of it again.

Yours,
Tom