Dear Ayah,

I expect this letter to reach you in the best of health. Unless of course, it is mango season and you have been climbing the trees again to chase away baboons. For a women of your refined character, it is one of your ugliest traits. Not that I did not enjoy the show put up. Everyone has their own dirty pleasures.

I just arrived at the port in London a few minutes ago. With the treacherous winds blowing our ship hither and tether, I was certain that we would not reach the docks in expected time. But thank the heavens for transporting us here safely in record time.

Not that I did not have enough to occupy my time. My mornings were spent with the cook, (though I do not think we should even refer to him with said title). He makes the simplest of stews seem as complicated as your delicious chicken and coconut milk curry. By the end of my stay, I was praying for Uncle John's gram biscuits, even when they gave me unladylike disposal urges the next morning.

Since we are on the topic of discussing my uncles, how are they? I am still fuming at them for sending me to England to live with Aunt Clara. And I did not fall for the excuse that it was not suitable for a lady of my ranking and age to live with three bachelors. It did not matter for the past 16 years.

But no matter how frustrated I am at them, I do worry. Inform them that I have reached safely, although they might not even indicate that they had cared. The same way I ignored how Uncle James was hunched over on a toothless picture of mine, on the floor with 'water' in his eyes on my last day in Bombay. And do not forget to lock kitty in her cage. We all know how she loves to sneak up to Uncle Walter while he is asleep at night and give him the fright of his life.

Ah! They have begun to lower the ladder to the boat. The ladies are required to brave the swing rope, even when in this weather it would be a certain death sentence. The winds are howling strongly against the hull, and though i wwas assured that we have been anchored to the bed of the ocean, I can not ignore the voice of doubt as we dance hither and fro with the waves. I am blessed to not suffer with the effects of the sea but the same cannot be said for Lady Granger, her stomach not at all harmonious with sailing. She took a fondness to me when I provided her glass of soothing lemon and mint water that did wonders for her sickness.

I have to leave now, since the captain blew his whistle signalling for the departure of all aboard. My luggage was taken down earlier and I'm seated writing to you while others bid farewell to thier companions on this journey. No need to frown. I did my fair share before before sitting down. I would never put shame to my mannerisms thay way but I do not have the tolerance for idle gossip.

I am glad that the weather, does not effect my mood, because the grey skies above threaten to pour any second now, and I'm wearing my lovely blue dress that Uncle James gifted me this spring. It makes me miss the sunlight back home. Home.

Please take care of my uncles, since they would probably wear the same socks everyday. I would also ask you to watch over yourself, but you spent 16 said years taking care of us, it would be a little absurd.

Has Annie spit out the mongoose yet?

Much love and many hugs.

Your,
Elizabeth.
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A/N:

Hey guys! Hope you enjoy this story. Let me know what you think of the plot. It had always been a passion writing a story set in the past.

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See you on the next update.