Thursday 21st February 1808

Dear Diary,
Shortly after breakfast there was a knock upon the door and my heart leapt like a salmon at the prospect of a reply from London, but ended up floundering upon the floor when I discovered it to be addressed to my Mother. It was from France and came from her friend Cornelia Du Plessis. She is to come! I could not determine whether this was welcome news for my Mother but she did not enthuse about the prospect.
It was a moderately damp day out of doors but the chill air was welcome. I encountered Ned admiring his handiwork on the seat he has erected beneath the Old Beech. He is very proud of it and so he should be. He nodded a greeting and indicated for me to try it out but as soon as I set foot upon the wooden base I slipped, as it was wet and I began to fall. Ned caught me, but the momentum was such that I pulled him down with me and I somehow ended up on top of him, our noses almost touching. I had never noticed how blue his eyes were until that moment. We lay there for only a moment, so close and almost... comfortable, until sense returned and we quickly tried to regain decorum. It would have seemed comical to an onlooker as he did not feel it proper to push me away and I did not know where to put my hands upon him to lift myself off. In the end I rolled over beside him and he leapt to his feet and assisted me to mine. We were saved from the embarrassment of a post-mishap conversation by the approach of another delivery boy. I left Ned holding onto his erection, looking somewhat bewildered and hurried off to see if the missive was for me.
I cannot report a happy end to the day, for the letter was not what I had hoped. Is there no end to my misery? The Tents are repaying their visit upon us with an invitation to stay with them at our earliest convenience. I was very tempted to put a toe to Fanny's pussy, in my vexation, as she ambled past, but resisted and kicked the stair post instead.
I think I have broken a toe.