Ma Chérie
Deux
Auvergne, France, 1662
I gave a loud heave, falling back into the chaise lounge after seeing my tutor Monsieur du Berry out of the manor. The shy bookworm man was beyond a bore to me, and could not teach me more than I already knew about etiquette and appropriate knowledge for a woman of my status. It was all so repetitive.
Phoebe, my most loyal of maids, giggled at my antics as she followed me and sat down beside me upon the lounge. But in a much more proper way, Phoebe sat with her back straightened and skirt perfectly smooth to her lap. A stranger would have thought that she the daughter of a Baron and me the maid.
"You shouldn't be so hard on the man," Phoebe gently patted my thigh, full of encouragement in her feathery light voice," any country girl would be more than delighted to have a man like Monsieur du Berry as a tutor."
"Yes, but I am not a simple country girl," I reminded her with a pouting expression. "I am the daughter of a bright baroness and a flamboyantly famous musketeer."
Phoebe gave a small shrug of her shoulders, still trying to remain positive," Well, I do appreciate that you allow me to be a part of your lessons, when my station wouldn't have normally allowed such offerings." She looked glum in remembrance of her birthright compared to mine. She was the daughter of a cook and a stable hand.
I sighed sitting up.
Phoebe, in her own way, always brought me back to reality and humility. She reminded me how good my life was, even if I wasn't the Queen of France. So in return, I educated her and exposed her to things most maids wouldn't have been exposed to. I just certainly hoped that one day, before I married, she would be able to find a good man who didn't work as someone's butler and worked as a craftsman. Someone who could give her wealth and as many children as she wanted.
"Oh, Phoebe, where would I be without you?" I humbly smiled back at Phoebe.
"You'd be at the King's summer celebration," she answered with a teasing grin. "You'd be hanging off the arm of some musketeer, whilst your father goes on a tirade about how no man is good enough for you."
I gave a groan of remembrance.
Last time I was in Paris, just before Athos's son, Raoul, was shipped off to war. And in a moment of weakness from both of us, we shared an intimate kiss, despite I knew he had another woman's heart.
My father of course discovered us in our not-so secret embrace in the middle of Athos's home. He went berserk and nearly threw Raoul into the table. Athos restrained my father and took him out into the street, where I said my final goodbyes to Athos and Raoul, before I retreated to the carriage with my cursing father. And together, in an uncomfortable carriage ride, we found our way back to the country estate.
"One day, your father will find a man of his liking for you," she assured me, resisting a sisterly hand upon my shoulder. "Until then, you'll just have to settle to the lectures of Monsieur du Berry and the advice of a simpleton maid."
I gave Phoebe a quick glance, as quickly assured her," Better your advice then that of a bitter old woman." I truly did appropriate Phoebe's words over Maria's any day. Even if Phoebe lacked Maria's age and experience, she made it up in an open heart and optimism.
Phoebe gave me a chastising stare," You should really keep such opinions to yourself, even if they are the truth." She the stood up, flattening out her skirt," Madame Maria Chevalier does try her hardest, Isabeaux. You aren't the easiest of persons for someone of her pedigree to get along with."
I gave a heave of agreement as I pushed myself back off of the chaise lounge, following behind Phoebe's lead.
"Where do you plan on going now?" She casually questioned me, as we both made our way to the grand hall.
"Back to my bedroom to sow," I answered with an ambivalent tone. I was honestly tired of the monotony of my life this past week. "What about you? Do you have duties to attend to?"
Phoebe nodded, clasping her hands together before her," I have the laundry to help Suzette with, as well as any other chore that you may put to my name."
I gave a nod of understanding and respectfully curtsied in her direction. "Until dinner then?"
"Until dinner, Mademoiselle," she agreed curtsying back to me, before we both drifted apart; me to my room and her to the back of the estate, where Suzette washed and hung the laundry in the summer heat.
But once again that child within me made me lose my humility once again. I found profound pleasure in knowing that when the heat became this strong, I did not have to go into it, unless I desired to subject myself to it. Plus the heat was always more bearable when dressed as a man, and unfortunately Suzette was to be washing my tailored trousers, shirt, and jacket since my last incident of dressing as a man. I had most ungracefully landed in a pile of horse manure from a failed riding lesson.
I hate horses.
Fortunately, for me, I do not think there is a penance to be paid for disliking that specific creature. And that shall certainly make attending religious services much easier, for I already have lots to pray for; most importantly my father's safe return from Paris.
