Definitely Not Mr. Darcy

He had written it with ink and quil .

Dear Chloe,

I haven’t much time to write, as you’ve ordered a cab and it will soon be here, so this missive will not be as polished as I would like.

Do consider staying on a bit longer. If not for me, then for your friends, such as Mrs. Crescent. If not for Mrs. Crescent, then foryourself, to really see England. I can arrange for a private tour guide to show you the sights of London. How can you leave withoutseeing London Bridge? Buckingham Palace? Windsor Castle? I just can’t bear to have you leave our country in this manner. Ican’t bear to have you leave at all.

I apologize for deceiving you. I don’t blame you for being upset. It was a damn ridiculous thing to do to a woman like you.

Still, I find it comforting to know that, even if you are half a world away, a woman like you exists. I had quite given up. You see, I,too, fell in love with you on paper, when I read your profile and all the transcripts of your interviews months ago. I asked for you tobe the first chosen. But George didn’t want you on the show until the final weeks—for drama’s sake. He told me you had beencontacted but were engaged to be married. I was taken by surprise when you arrived. Truly, I let Sebastian go a bit too far, and he,too, seemed to fall for you. But he’s not ready to settle down, as you well know.

What I do know is that my feelings for you are real, and always will be. When you get back to the real world, I hope you will thinkof me. And when that day comes, please contact me by e-mail, post, telephone, or smoke signals. I’ll have both you and yourdaughter flown over here in a heartbeat. I’d like to propose a secret correspondence and we can get to know each other better—theold-fashioned way.

I will be waiting.

Sincerely yours,

Henry Wrightman

P.S. Take good care of your mousetrap. I’ve known Alistair since he was a kitten. All the paperwork required for travel is enclosed.

And yes, I named him after Alistair Cooke.

“Departures. American Airlines. We’re here,” the cabbie said. He went around to the trunk, or the “boot” as the English cal ed it, and started unloading. Chloe shoved the letter in her bag. The American Airlines logo shone in her face. She slid out of the cab, grabbed her bag, and looked back at the crate.

She handed the cabbie his fare. “And here’s ful fare back. Please take that cat back to Dartworth Hal .”

The cabbie looked at her as he lit up another cigarette. “I’m not going back. I’m staying in London tonight.” The smoke made her nauseous.

Rap music rumbled from the inside of the cab, the bass throbbing in her brain. “Then take it back tomorrow. Next week. I don’t care.” She handed him the money, but he pushed it away.

“I don’t like cats.”

Chloe looked around. “How about another cabbie, then?”

Near the curb a couple kissed good-bye. The woman started crying. She stood alone for a minute to watch her man run through the automatic doors to catch his plane.