No sooner do I express in writing my hopes for my dear husband, than they are answered. The Marquis has been called away to Paris by Msr. Poisson with news of a charge, and so he is busy packing the necessary items for the journey north. At this time of year it will take him at least four or five days, I should think, and if his business is not soon concluded then we may not be together for Christmas; all of which inclines me to wonder if I should not travel with him and visit our friends in Paris and at Versailles.
He leaves within the hour and so I must make a decision quickly; to remain or to leave Saint-Saturnin once again?
Such happiness has been ours these last few months that we can scarce believe our good fortune and look for dire news that never comes. Our guests at Saint-Saturnin have been many; with the Marquis' family arriving one after another for several weeks. His parents still have not visited us as of yet, but promise to in the spring. I should have thought them eager to see how well their second son has succeeded, especially as the eldest toils fruitlessly in the army, but evidently that is to be postponed.
My own mother, step-father, and half-brothers have visited as well, only a few weeks ago, which coincided beautifully with the ball that we had promised to host for the surrounding countryside. It was a brilliant success, and cost me many hours of preparation (and not a little sleep), but was so well-received and subsequently talked of that I think we shall soon be pressed to host another.
Christine has settled fretfully into her married life in Sweden, and begs for a visit from me, which I may do if circumstances favor in the new year. I wait with some trepidation for the announcement of the Marquise de Menars' hopes for a child, thinking that young Clementine cannot be too long without one, but at the moment none is expected. Nor, indeed, are our hopes to be fulfilled this year. Thierry, knowing that at my age bearing a child is fraught with dangers, declares that he would rather we remain childless than risk my life; but I cannot help but wish that our good fortune might extend a little longer. He is, alas, not even fond of his own nephews and nieces, and so there is little urgency to the matter for him.
Madame Elizabeth very kindly continues to write to me, and urges my return to Versailles, but at present we are so content that I think only a royal command would compel me to leave Auvergne. Of course, there is word that Thierry may soon be issued a charge, but what that will entail is entirely a mystery to me. A diplomatic posting, perhaps? His travels and use in the last war were enough to earn him a title, it is impossible to say to what other purposes he may soon be put. I selfishly wish that it will not require that we be parted again.
I am a university professor and costume professional who calls Virginia home. Interested in costume history, and history in general, I endeavor constantly to better understand life through those who lived it.