I wonder if any of you girls out there have actually noticed that some guys, even doms, can be rather shy? A little bit backwards in coming forwards?
I have. And so has HWMBO. In fact, it was The Lover, who first attended the house party in 1808* that pointed out that he had rather liked some of the ladies there, but had been a little reticent in approaching them, in case they turned him down. It was then that we had the idea that we would, in true Regency style, make a feature of this, by installing a postbox at Fawcett Hall, provide specially embossed writing paper from Fawcett Hall and instruct the servants to deliver the (we hoped) carefully crafted missives of love and lust at least ten times a day.
I provided ten sheets of paper per person and instructed all to bring their personal seals. And everyone at the house party took to it like ducks to water, spinning off missives so speedily that the footman, Thomas, couldn’t deliver them quickly enough. Every time he entered a room, silver salver held ceremoniously before him with white gloved hands, the special epistle on view, every lady’s head rose, like a group of meer-cats as they waited with bated breath to see who was the object of someone’s desire. In fact, most people had run through their sheets of paper by the second day, thus forcing people to make use of the extra pads of paper provided in the Drawing room.
I was the subject of several missives** and had several very enticing encounters following them, so I was well pleased and my ego satisfied. There was a couple of *very* enticing promises that I couldn’t follow up on due to being temporarily indisposed during Saturday, so I’m holding those over. It made me think though, that in these days of email, IM and FaceBook, how we have lost the gentle art of written communication and how, as we whiled away our time at Fawcett Hall, how pleasant it was to return to a gentler age, where you could take your time to craft a missive and have the pleasure of reading a reply.
Sigh. I love being a lady. Can I go back to 1809 please?
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*Yes, he really is that old…
**Including the equivalent of a red bill, a note from Lord Dorchester reminding me that I owed him 25 guineas. Arghghg!
I miss 1809… IC ’s memos just don’t have the same effect. I’ve still got all my letters in a box in my room, sometimes I guess all you can do is enjoy the memories.
‘Twas fun. But someone needs to teach me how to use a seal. My efforts were dreadful.
Eliane you and your seal were truly ’special’! The letters were fun
Hey, glad to see it was such a success – I remember when we first started talking about it it was thought to be a good way for people to make their approaches whilst sparing any blushes… and so it seems!
The letters were a big success, and yes were all very thrilled to get them
I’m very happy I manged to get my seal to work, a little green shamrock!
Jessica, where, I wonder are you now, New York? An excellent opportunity to pen and dispatch missives to your friends and loved ones. I would avoid the seal as that would cost you extra.
You seem to be correct, the gentle art of letter writing is going the way of all flesh.
As you may be able to tell I enjoy writing letters, if I remember correctly it is something we were taught the basics of at school.
You may enjoy the thought of living in 1809, just don’t get ill, or lose your money.
Warm hugs,
Paul.
OMG, the thought of getting a flirtatious handwritten note right now seems so far-fetched as to be…erm, from outer space? I think I would actually swoon if I received one. There’s something about someone having taken the time to physically craft it–it says they actually were thinking about you that long, and then took action upon that. If I didn’t pass out, I would probably blush ten shades of read at getting that kind of attention.
Ok, so I don’t get out much, lol.
Sir Abel is still very much hoping that Mrs Derby will discuss her Friday night dream with him at some point!
Mrs Derby would be delighted to accept, should Sir Abel wish to suggest a date