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.