Paris, April 20th

This must be the dirtiest city in our world and one has to pay a costly amount to see it. The tolls of the city of Paris are high and when one enters it all seems rather pretty and worth the pay but then nearing the centre more it shows and smells more and more and suddenly the feeling of being cheated into it becomes stronger by the minute.

After those first days I have relocated to another inn near the border of the city where the air is more bearable. It even has a little park around it. The innkeeper is a former officer of the Garde Royale who has retired some years ago, his wife a daughter of the bourgeoisie; her father was a jeweler. I feel safer here than at the grubby inn I was a few weeks ago. These are educated decent people. Where I as afraid my jewelry was stolen at the old inn, here Madame Du Bois has even restored a string of pearls that broke when it was caught between the lid and box. She used to work in her fathers atelier before she married and her brother is still a jeweler in Paris. She offered to introduce him to me, his work apparently is quite exquisite, she has shown me some pieces which she keeps for herself. It is indeed well crafted and detailed and yet it does not look pompous. France is quite the revelation in this. I have seen one woman at court who had such a large collier around her neck that she could not even turn her head. While in conversation with two other ladies on the parterre I saw her turn back and forth continuously with her whole body to be able to face the lady talking. Quite amusing to see I must admit. I have noticed that here at court one at times even wears evening jewelry. In England it would be frowned upon to wear diamonds during the day. The changing of dress during the day could be considered a day job. It is now that I understand the sigh of relief uttered by Lady Rochford when she told me life had become so much easier since her husband resigned from his embassy in France. I have not met the current ambassador and I do not think he is an acquaintance therefore I will probably not have to bother with avoiding him. To return to the topic, I am quite bored with the dresses I brought so I have ordered new ones. I am expecting them to be delivered this week. The bill will go to the banker and will be paid through the London branch so that he will not notice my presence here. I do find myself travelling France more than being at court. The court is quiet at the moment with the extensive renovations being finished, perhaps it will take a leap into crowdedness again in some weeks. I am planning on visiting the countryside more, there are some charming provinces and the people are much more agreeable than the Parisians, then again if I were to live in such a city permanently I would probably grow to be of similar grumpiness.

Apart from it being mentioned on the passport I have not used the barony of Saint Vaillion-Waircainvalle in conversation as it might be too risky when questions are asked at court. My maid Marie is still trying to figure out how I have come to this name. It really is quite simple as I told her, but I promised her to reveal the secret when I return to my real name. For now I remain the Baroness du Sart and I must admit that this is a very comfortable position. Apart from the closed doors at court, it is very interesting to observe life through the eyes of a baroness. I can not say to prefer this position in life but being used to my own status in life for so long and the privileged position it brings I have never taken into consideration what a noble of lower rank has to endure. When this is all over I will recommend it to my friends. There is so much more freedom in the world whilst at court it is much more restricted. It is silly when you realize that more people would prefer the freedom at court and restrictions in life than the other way around; how complicated the mind of mankind works. Charles has bettered his behavior. I wonder what E. is up to at this moment.

Paris, March 29th

How dull places can be when one doesn't have access to those rooms you are used to just walking in. I, who has been used to sitting in the centre of attention for years have no other choice now to settle for a mere corner at the side, of the hall, to stand, peeking in - and that only when the doors open. It could be argued of course that for every person it is good to change their positions or take another identity in life for a while just to experience that side of the world. If only to reach that level of experience to be able to feeling a more sincere compassion for the less fortunate and to understand more of their world and strive to move up the various social ladders in our world. I hear it is easier here, but it involves a certain usage of sheets and bravoure, which is not given to all I am afraid.

On the other hand, looking around in this sorry excuse for a room in my Paris lodging - one would rather choose to let it all be and move back to her comfortable position. I have seen many lodgings in my life, but never as dirty as this one. But what can I do? There is no chance to call upon the houses of our friends in this city, if I would do that, the purpose of my journey will be gone. I must not forget and instruct Marie more properly to pay attention to where we go. I absolutely cannot be seen here. Paris might be a good stopping place since I have not been here in at least 7 years, but it still remains dangerous for maintaining this nom de plume. He will know instantly when it comes out, and then what?

This week the rest of my luggage will arrive from. I have instructed them not to stop here but on the other side of town. From there they can bring it all over and switch the rest. It will be a welcome change. I have been wearing the same gowns for a good two weeks now and if it weren't for the bodily scents alone, which are steadfastly deepening themselves in the fabric, it would be for the massive boredom which overflows me now nearly every morning when Marie opens the trunks to pull out a dress for the day. I could of course buy some here, but the cut of the dresses does not excite me that much. Although on the other hand, as a Baronne here and now, I'd perhaps do wise to follow the local fashion. I could pass for a French woman but only if I claim to have spent some years abroad. Oh, this seemed like such a brilliant and adventurous plan at home, but I did perhaps not realize my privileges and position enough for it. To blend in now is quite hard on me, but I need to without any other choice - I will not fail!

I might send Charles back if he makes one more mistake. Today he displayed the mind boggling stupidity of addressing me as myself... in front of the innkeeper! Thanks be to God for sending me Marie eight years ago for she had the clarity of mind to kneel in front of me and straighten my skirts and clean the trimmings while I tried to compose myself. With that she saved me. Only now the innkeeper surely considers me to be one of these uptight baroness that forget their rank so easily outside court. Marie confirmed it to me, but also heard the wife of the man say that I am just like the rest of them. So in the end he might have done me a favour. Nevertheless, one more mistake like this - Heaven forbid he would do this to me at court - and I will drop him personally at the nearest port to be taken on as a sailor for five years on a French navy-vessel! That should teach him not to follow orders.

Speaking of the innkeeper, I do not trust him or his wife too much. I dare not leave my jewellery here, tomorrow Marie must pack all and bring it to a bank. I can always use the name my father used for his missions, his bankers have a branch here and I trust they have not forgotten the system he used. I shall keep two sets for variation - but then again at court I cannot constantly wear the same. Or perhaps one pays less attention to that here. I will have to look into the matter. Bah, the discomfort of travelling like this dawns upon me.