Blogs
Re-Acquaintences
According to the young and naive Mlle Noailles (daughter of Mme Etiquette, I doubt she'll be impressed if she reads this, but anyway) , the new Venetian Ambassador, Msr. le Conte Loredan.. has some past acquaintence with the Mqse. d'Andelot. He also likes to flaunt this fact in front of the Mqs! Then of course, the Mqs goes on to mention how clever his wife is.. apparently her tongue has been down so many throats it's learnt six languages on it's own..
To the Dogs
While having tea with my friends, I was re-acquainted with the Princesse de Chambord. When I arrived at the table, it seems that she refused to stand in my presence, and then commented on how I was rude because I would not sit down. She then also went on to compare my manners to my dogs. One is not amused.
Prince Etranger
While having evening tea, it seems that protocol has turned against us. The Russia Prince Anton refused to sit, thus leaving the Marquise de Fiennes standing, when she was obviously fatigued. Naturally, she may not sit while a higher rank is standing. But once I pointed out that Monsieur Anton is a Prince Etranger, this enabled her to sit down, and only after she was seated, did he decide to sit down himself!
Madame Cagliostro?
It seems Monsieur le Comte de Cagliostro (Dracula) has found a bride (Not the Bride of Frankenstein, that's another story, but anyway), he has recently went from flaunting the fact that he was a bachelor to flaunting his new wife.. who we think may be a a vampire too.. her complexion is far to fabulous... And! While on travels in Rome.. he left her! For the Italian vice.. no doubt..
Tickets Not For Sale
Etiquette has been harassing me all day about having an event at Versailles. She wanted to impress HRH Madame Victoire (Who has a agitated peacock permanently shoved up her arse, but anyway). While in the presence of said Victoire, Etiquette began to harass me again. She immediately shut up when I suggested an orgy, but it seems the Victoire could not contain her laughter.. I found it funny too to be honest
The weather in Languedoc has turned into beautiful late spring. I find myself changed and inspired by my new home and surroundings. I've settled in quite nicely in my little corner of the world. The shop is flourishing and business has been swift. Many travelers and tradesman have been making their way around the countryside in this fine weather. This week I took to tailoring my own gowns. Secretly I admit it is very enjoyable and meditative especially in the heat of the late afternoon. The action of my hands in busy motion somehow helps my mind create a solution for any problem. I must economize and adjust my new lifestyle now that I have a business to tend and books to keep. I still find a little extravagance is good for the soul though...giggle. My beautiful and educated mother and grand-mre taught me lace making and embroidery though how I retained that knowledge I still dont know. Inevitably Id be sneaking off with one of my brothers to ride horses or race through the grove where the peacocks sleep in search of feathers. I look back on these memories and smile even as my fingertips are sore and bleeding from all the damn cartridge pleats in this dress skirt! At least the cloth I traded for in the village is fine and light and should be perfect for the very hot summer too come. I can hear the rush of the creek behind the shop and the sun is reaching mid-day. Time to take a light lunch of fruit, cheese and bread. I think later this evening after the heat has passed I will walk along the canal to find roses for a nice balm for my hands and fingertips.
~J
After recording the events of the week in my notepad, I have had many requests to divulge what has been written. So, here it goes, and not all of it is pleasant :P
Extra-Marital Fondling
While at the opera in Languedoc, I caught Her Royal Highness the Comtesse d'Artois with a handsome gentleman, though not her husband. Naturally, I paid no attention to the opera, though I heard it was very good. Though it is widely known about the Comte's liaisons with the Dauphine, it seems that Mme la Comtesse is having an affair of her own now. Maman finds this fascinating also, as she attended the opera with me.
Lesbionic Liaisons
At the English Spring Ball, held at the Buckingham House in London, Her Highness the Princesse de Lamballe was caught dancing with another lady. We already know of Mme la Princesse'ss ill taste for men due to her frequent correspondances with the Dauphine, but it seems her taste has now turned elsewhere. The name of this english lady is unknown, I must write to G. to have her keep a look out.
Sexual Harassment
While having tea today on the parterre, an unusual Russian gentleman, with no wig on, decided to perch himself on to the lap of Msr le Prince de Carpgne. Naturally the Prince was not amused, and what made the situation worse was the fact that this gentleman refused to even acknowledge the Cmt. de Provence, much to his dismay.
Paranormal Activity
While pondering on Msr. le Conte Cagliostro's secret to a pale complexion, he chose to reveal to us that he was in fact.. a vampire. Naturally at this point I fainted, and awoke to find him discussing with the Cmt. de Provence that he has sold his soul to some randomer. I of course have already sold my soul to the devil for the knowledge of all things fabulous, but I do believe he has took it to the extreme merely to acquire pale skin.
Attempted Fondling
Meanwhile, when I fainted, I was awoken by the Pr. de Carpgne, who was feeling my bosom! Naturally I was not amused, and Mme. Etiquette gave him a right scolding. He seems to be after the notepad that I am writing in at present. God knows what would happen if he knew what I have wrote in here. Page 7 is of particular interest as you know...
I made it to Russia, at last!
This Empire is so huge and so far away, they cannot keep their borders, which are much harder to reach than to cross. But, once you've done this, the worst is yet to come.
I arrived by southwest, and had in mind to board a ship on the Volga River ( since I was so exhausted by my journey).Alas! the whole oblast (region) was in uproar and so insecure!
The Cossacks had rebelled, were joined by the Muslim Bachkirs, as well as myriads of serves and peasants.The country was raided by hords of Cossacks on horseback; both cities and villages were assaulted and burnt by them if unwilling to join the rebellion, or assaulted and burnt by the Imperial Forces if they joined it!
Foreigners like me (as few as they were) were suspected by both parties to be spies. Under the circumstances, I found it necessary to remove my mask, because it attracted more attention than I could afford.( I wear a mask since the day, in Versailles, when I was on the track of my father's presumed agressor, on the verge of meeting him...when someone in the crowd recognised me, shouted my name, and my prey escaped.)
During my Russian travels, I was captured by a brigade of Imperial Forces in a filthy tavern near Tsaritsyne, and jailed. Fortunately, the " natchalnik " (Commander in Chief) of the oblast spoke a little french and I was freed after a week. Later in Saratov, I narrowly escaped being lynched by peasants- the small local German community having saved me.
Eventually, I rallied Saint Petersburg, and strolled along the Nevsky Prospekt, around the Winter Palace, in the gardens and by the banks of the Neva River, searching Colonel SUVOROV, also known as Count Oblonsky, also known as ThomasK Andel, in this amazing city which resembles a gigantic " decor de theatre " .
The same informer who told me that Suvorov had secretly gone to Cornwall when my father was wounded and humiliated there by a mysterious foreigner, left me the message that I could meet the Colonel near the Summer Palace next morning at 9 am. This I did, and indeed there he was, nonchalantly having his morning walk between the green thickets and the marble statues.
I adjusted my mask and went straight to him.He showed no surprise, and I wondered why (Now I know this little french pest of a peasant girl, Sophie something, must have warned him.)
I challenged him for a duel, and his only answer was: " Sir, I have other duties: to my Country, and to her Imperial Majesty the Csarin of All Russias. I refuse to let your personal interest interfere with my obligations, and I shall not accept your insane demand."
I buffeted him with my glove, calling him a coward and a man without honor.
His face grew paler, he clenched his fists, trembling with rage, trying to keep hold of himself, then turned his back on me. As he retreated , I shouted: " You cannot escape me! I will come to your Valse des Fleurs Ball on April the 30th, and by the end of the party, when the clock strikes two, I will challenge you in front of all the Imperial Court!This time, you will have no way out! If you are the man I am looking for, your time has come!!"
Of course, I sense now the Imperial Secret Police is after me. I have taken refuge in Saint Petersburg slums, and change lodging every day.
At night laying on the bed in these miserable rooms, I count the cockroaches on the ceiling. I hear the patter of squeaking rats all around...and I recall our Mansion among the Hydrangeas of Cornwall. I hear the North Sea surf splashing the rocks of its coast. I hear my father's horses whinnying in the meadows.
I wonder how everyone is doing over there, and if they miss me as I miss them.
But then my anger ignites again, and I can't wait until that valse des Fleurs Ball, on April the 30th....
My dearest sister,
Saturday hence was boat racing in Languedoc - a popular sport to see and, more importantly, to be seen seeing. Despite this, I however did not partake, for reasons I will outline to you hence:
One week ago I made a passing acquaintance of a most notable kind, Her Grace The Comtesse de Noailles. One has heard rumours that she is strait-laced, but I find her delightful. As if to prove her gentle nature, she was attired a la Reine in a gaulle of filmy muslin. Most contemporary! She was accompanied by Her Grace the Comtesse de Chiverny, and another courtier, Madame Anouck - I am unsure of her position, but she wore a fine gown of Lyons silk in brilliant cyclamen brocaded with great black nosegays, so she has wealth enough that is sure (and, if she does not yet have it, will surely obtain the station to match by barter or bridegroom!)
After conversation of the most genial type in the gardens of Versailles, I was sufficiently emboldened to accompany the ladies in taking a small row-boat out on the parterre - I can but imagine the look on your face, as we both know I am no sailor! Alas, that was proved, to my detriment - the boat capsized, and the Comtesse, Madame Anouck and I were soaked through to the skin! If that were not bad enough, the heavens then opened - and I almost felt to blame for that too!
I made a small gift to both of them to chivvy their good favour - I am new to court, after all, and after so fortuitous an introduction I didn't wish to sour their good graces. Luckily both were delighted with a small gift of a gold ring, a sovereign piece surmounted with pearls, to 'tide' things over. We shall see how my good intentions fare over the next few weeks. I still feel I am on rocky ground here.
I pine for you as ever. Pray, come visit when you have but a moment free. May God Almighty bless you
With best love, &c., I am affectionately yours,
WL
