Monday, May 16, 2011

May 15, 1781

My broken wrist seems to have healed completely, and in the meantime T- has returned from Calais. His first act was to inform me that he has been invited by a Sir William Clayton, Lord Marlow, to stay at his estate in England and that he intends to do so with permission from his superiors at the Ferme. I think that they believe this will help them in some way, though I cannot see how.

I asked him about my letters, and he replied rather sheepishly that he had thought to turn my mind to duty rather than affection, and believed me to be overwrought needlessly.

We were sitting in the salon, the heady smell of lilies coming through the open window, causing T- to comment on my love of the flower. "Forget me." He said "You will be happier for fullfilling your place, you were not made to suffer, but to be happy. I cannot continue to keep you from that."
"You will make me happy, I will make me happy! Only we two together could make that real. Who can I trust? Who love, who need as I do you? It's your advice I want when I do not know what to do, because I know you to be a man of intelligence and compassion, and not one who seeks to gratify only himself." I replied.

He began to speak again, but the strain of the last few months overcame me in an instant. "I will not believe that you can be happy with this plan either. I was foolish to think that such a farce could bring about anyone's satisfaction, but it was wrong from the start, I see that now, and everything that has happened only serves to prove it. I am tired of waiting for my hopes and plans to come to fruition. I think that there is a time to dream and a time to act, and that time is now. We will make a future for ourselves, since no one will give it to us. If I lose everything, even Auvergne itself it will be worth it to be your wife and not some piece of property, bound by contract to die in an attempt to prolong their line."

I was ranting now, but I couldn't stop the torrent. "I know myself, and this simpering, quiet, passive mouse is not who I am. I will not play this role. I will not. You will not ask it of me, if you love me." Thierry caught up my hands, pulling me into his chest to hold me quivering with rage.

Hushing me he responded "But the King, you told him you would marry the Marquis de Franconville-aux-Bois."
"He has forgiven Lafayette for abandoning his post to take a ship across the ocean and fight for the Americans before we were even at war. He will forgive me this. One small Countess can't matter so very much. But your work; might your superiors be prevailed upon to dismiss you?"
"I think that at present they find me far too useful." Thierry said with a sly smile.
"Thierry, what is the nature of the work that you do for them, and how did you come to meet with this English Lord?" I asked, concerned.
"I cannot tell you exactly what I have been asked to do, but let us simply say that it would benefit them to have me travel and learn what I can. As to Lord Marlow, he was visiting Calais and is a great admirer and scholar of Charlemagne, and finding out that I am descended from that personage we struck up an immediate friendship." He answered.

So there it is. We must find some way to alter the course of the future, but as of yet I do not know how. We must do it fast, the wedding is only two weeks away. For the first time in a long time, I feel strong. I feel myself. Hard won as it is, I will not lose that.

Olympe, Comtesse

No comments:

Post a Comment