A/N: Thanks for the reviews and the views!
The Benefactress
Part 2: We Who Live the Fine Life
As far as Azelma Thenardier Prouvaire was concerned, Sundays were now the best days of her week. "We're not needed to see things at the theater, most people are asleep or at church, and those people we want to see are usually not far away," she told Jean Prouvaire as they were readying for a leisurely afternoon stroll.
"It's the perfection of time," the poet concurred as he put on a large hat. "Are you planning to call on anyone in particular?"
"No. I'm only meaning to see and get some ideas for sketches," Azelma replied. She crossed their apartment to the small table in a corner set up expressly as her work space, and then snatched up several half-finished drawings of frilly dresses and gowns. "For the costumes in your new scene. I can't very well have the actresses in plain muslin dresses; they'd fade into the backdrop," she explained as she held up the sketches.
He nodded understandingly. "Especially considering how it's painted?"
She sighed as she set down the sketches and then grabbed a few pins so she could put up her braided hair in a knot at the back of her head. "From the highest seats, white dresses look like nothing beside that tower you have planned."
"I might have to suggest some alterations then," Jehan said even as he held out a hand to her. "Are you ready to go?"
Azelma smiled widely as she took his hand. These walks with her husband were something she always looked forward to. It thrilled her to no end that he was happy to be seen with her in public, to show her the wonderful things he always found in this city, and simply share this time with her. 'I wonder how many other finely married ladies can say that same thing,' she thought as she looked around their cluttered but nonetheless welcoming abode, piled high with books, musical scores, costumes, and other sundry belongings. How could she have ever once spurned this in favor of glittering and cold luxury?
Even though it had been more than a year since her embarrassing debacle involving an infamous ruby necklace, Azelma still sometimes felt the weight of scrutiny on her, and feared for whispers behind her back. The two consolations she had were the fact that Jehan had forgiven her so wholeheartedly for her part in the affair, and that her sister had done a great deal to keep her out of Saint Lazare prison. 'Never mind that. You're not Azelma Thenardier, you're Citizenness Azelma Prouvaire, and that's a chance to do something different,' she reminded herself as she and Jehan headed in the general direction of the Jardin du Luxembourg.
It was an unusually clement afternoon for November, the very sort of day that allowed people to promenade in fashionable bonnets that artfully framed the face instead of hiding it against bitter breezes. Azelma commented on this as she and Jehan sat down on a bench near a statue of a gladiator. "It's lovely but I do wish someone would invent a way to keep warm should a breeze do arise. Something in the way the hat is made maybe," she mused.
"I have heard that in some parts of the world, the women prefer a headscarf or veil in lieu of a hat," Jehan said. "It allows for more adjustments-but I think these are more for modesty's sake than any concealing from the elements."
"That does not leave much work for milliners then."
"That is why they have dyers."
In the middle of everything Azelma noticed a raven haired, slightly plump girl walking down the path, pausing every now and then as if she was looking for someone. This newcomer was dressed in a fine but dainty light pink gown with a light purple cape as her only concession to the slightly crisp weather. Azelma sat up straight and managed a hesitant nod at this familiar face, if only for cordiality's sake. 'I don't have a quarrel with her specifically,' she thought.
This other girl stopped in her tracks. "Azelma! You, right here?" She paused when she saw Jehan. "Good day to you, Citizen Prouvaire."
"I don't live very far Citizenness Lafontaine...I mean, Justine," Azelma said. It was a relief to use this acquaintance's given name, for the epithet 'Citizenness Lafontaine' also called to mind some decidedly less kindly characters.
Jehan got to his feet and motioned for Justine to take the seat. "I hope you're doing well, Citizenness," he said warmly.
"On some days," Justine said with something of a resigned sigh. "You two though! Now you're married and so grand. Are you still living near the Odeon?"
Azelma nodded. "We're at the theatre nearly every day now; you might have heard of Jehan's latest play," she said proudly.
"I have, of course! I've watched at least once" Justine gushed. "The costumes are particularly grand. Your work, so I heard?"
Azelma grinned at this compliment. "Why how did you guess?"
"I remember how you always liked dresses with several rows of flounces," Justine replied. She looked around before leaning in confidentially. "No one at home knows what I'm up to."
"How have you come to this quartier, Citizenness?" Jehan asked kindly.
"I simply said that I'd be visiting the church of Saint-Sulpice," Justine answered. "That doesn't mean I can't call on people after. After all my aunts do that all the time….say you've heard of my aunt Madame Fontenay? She used to have the most spectacular salon at the neighbourhood of Chaillot, but now she's about to retire to a convent."
"I've only heard as much as you've told me," Azelma said ruefully.
Justine's eyes widened. "Oh? It's the talk of all of the grand folk of the city. I'm sure your sister knows."
'Why would Ponine bother with it?' Azelma wondered even as she and Jehan exchanged quizzical looks. It was not that Eponine would be completely oblivious to such news, but she had far less time nowadays to busy herself with other people's affairs. "I wouldn't know. We were just going to visit her today," Azelma finally said. "What is so important about your aunt's secluding herself now?"
"She kept her property when she married her husband. She can't take all of that into the convent, so she wants to give it to someone or something," Justine replied. "Maman was hoping she'd leave something as a dowry for my sister," she added more bitterly.
It was all that Azelma could do not to flinch at Justine's tone. She knew all too well how her friend felt; both of them had older sisters who were known for being outspoken, brilliant, and wily. 'The biggest difference is that Eponine learns her lessons while Cerise has never been sorry a day in her life,' Azelma couldn't help thinking. A year had done little to dull the memory of the drama that had resulted from the conniving
Jehan coughed uncomfortably. "I'm sure that your family will provide for you well enough," he said, seeing Justine's frown deepen.
"I'll see for myself soon enough," Justine replied. She looked around again and paled at the sight of a footman coming up the promenade. "Now there's someone from home, so I must go. May I call on you both soon?" she asked.
"Yes please," Azelma said. "I had a great time talking to you, after so long."
"So did I," Justine said, getting to her feet and making a slight curtsy before fleeing down the walk.
"I never thought she'd be a chatty one," Jehan remarked after a while.
"Something's happened," Azelma mused aloud, dropping her voice in order not to be overheard. "Of course, it's none of our business."
Jehan shrugged. "Unless Madame Fontenay is a patron of the arts?"
Azelma chuckled as she squeezed his arm. "Not our arts, darling. If she was, we wouldn't have to always rehearse plays in the garrets."