Letter 1
London, September
My dear Miss Austen,
How joyful I was to receive your letter; It feels as though it were but two lifetimes ago since I'd seen you last. It gives me a most empty feeling - something, I had not thought I was capable of feeling, not for all the world.
There is so much to say. Too much, in fact, to fill so trifling a thing as a letter, which can only convey so many of my own thoughts.
London is cold and lonely, absent of the lightness and glow of the countryside. I never did think I could imagine myself saying such things -- I, Tom Lefroy, longing for the countryside! But perhaps it is more to do with the company I keep than the trees themselves (though they are, I assure you, delightful, in case you think to berate me). Our country walks were most agreeable; and in this city, surrounded by endless cobblestone and brick and naught else, I feel there is very little space to move about.
My studies go as usual. I will add that I have spoken to my uncle upon the matter of your coming to London. Perhaps it would be the perfect opportunity to broach the subject of our attachment, and gain my uncle's consent. I have spoken well of you - I could not say otherwise even if I wished to - and hope that he may be kind in giving us his blessing.
I must also add here that I could never have imagined you tending the bar at Milliways, though the image it puts into my mind fills me with great amusement - and admiration. Your continued penchant for seeking new experiences will serve to make you a better authoress, one who can - and will - write great works no man or woman could conceive.
Yours ever
T. Lefroy