Tuesday, September 13, 2011

September 13th, 1781

Tomorrow we leave for Paris again, and in a strange way I am excited to be going. Maman is not speaking to me at the moment and has not responded to my messages. I was finally compelled to tell her of my marriage and it did not go well. She disapproves strongly and was moved to tears as she told me so, though she had never before objected to my affection for Thierry. I suppose this, coming hard upon the heels of the failed marriage plans with F-, was poor timing. I would have found it very hard to keep such a secret from her, for I have always desired that we should be friends.

A letter from Thierry cheers my spirits, as he says that he feels guilty for admitting to enjoying his forced sojourn in Venice, and wonders if I might delay any assistance in permitting his return to France. He jests, of course, and is very dear to keep me from worrying too much, but to Paris I go, and I will not fail.

Olympe, Comtesse

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