October 25, 1804

My Dear Sister,

First, I must apologize for the meager contents of this letter. We are a day from docking in the Bahamas and I am not prepared. My petticoats lay everywhere but in their proper place.

I write to you as I gaze through my port hole at the endless ocean. We have been at sea for three weeks now and I can say with certainty that this absolutely the most abhorrent part of my travels. But what am I to do? How else does one make it off of our tiny island? I find myself saying again that this will be my last journey, that once I am home I shall never leave it, but, of course in my ever-changing ways, I've confirmed my plans for India in February. I cannot bare the thought of spending an entire winter in England.

Your plan to stay with Marianne until Christmas is most agreeable. I do long to see you all, but I would go mad if I were to stay with Mama at Barton Cottage for an entire month alone having no other occupation but to walk the Downs. I must beg you and Edward to accept me for at least two weeks and you cannot say no because I've already promised my niece that my visit to would be a long one.

And, no, sweet and patient Elinor, my next novel is not complete and you know I will never let you see a single word until all of them have been written down. Please do not endeavour to ask me again.

Remind Marianne that she is perfect and strong and that she will have this baby, because I demand to meet my new niece or nephew while I am there.

Remind Mama that I will never marry, because I refuse to give up my freedom and I will travel forever so long as my pen can produce an income.

They listen to you.

Your favourite sister,

Margaret Dashwood