Armand’s First Letter. Amelia’s First Letter.
Bois-de-Bas, Armorica
20 November 1017
Dear Amelia,
I rather seem to have put my foot in it—though how I could have done otherwise I cannot quite see. I couldn’t have sent a message ahead, after all.
When I left Bois-de-Bas, Amelie was eager that I should bring Mama home with me; but she hadn’t considered that Mama might choose to bring her maid, Roman, and she certainly had not anticipated the presence of Jérôme Lavigne.
She was all smiles as we entered the shop, the four of us; for she had eyes at first only for me, and then for dear Mama; and once they had been introduced and embraced and proclaimed themselves pleased above all things with each other she looked quizzically at me and then at Roman and Jérôme.
I hastened to introduce them. “Jérôme is a colleague of Cousin Amelia’s from L’École du Sorciers; he will be studying forming with me. Roman is Mama’s lady’s maid.”
“Ah!” she said. “C’est bon!” she said. Then she bustled us into the parlor, directed Bastien to help Roman with Mama’s belongings, and called for the girls and for Mama Truc and Jacques-le-Souri. Further introductions were made, tea and biscuits appeared in short order, and then, after but a few moments, she smiled and said, “But you will excuse us for un moment, oui? I must speak with my husband.” And rising, she took me by the hand and drew me down the passage to the kitchen, where she kissed me soundly.
And then the smiles vanished.
“But where are we to put them, Armand?” she said. “Ton mére, she is expected, for her there will always be room. But what of her femme de chambre? What of your M. Lavigne? He is un gentilhomme et un sorcier! He cannot sleep under the bench in your workshop!”
I confess, Amelia, that I had not considered such matters in my eagerness to get home. You might think it should have occurred to me during the month of passage, but somehow it did not come up as we discussed Armorica, forming, and the children, and played endless rounds of genteel card games.
I apologized as best I could. “Perhaps it’s time to add some rooms to our house,” I said, “But that won’t help tonight. Where have you put Mama?”
“In our daughter’s room. They must sleep in with us.”
I grimaced, but acquiesced to that. “Then Roman will have to have a pallet in with Mama for tonight, until we can arrange something better.”
“But what of M. Lavigne?”
“Jérôme may wish to find his own lodgings, ma cherie. But for now, I think, I’ll simply leave the Amelia berthed behind the house; and he can continue to live aboard until he has made other arrangements.”
At that her face cleared. “Tres bon,” she said, and kissed me. “You do all things well.”
And with that we returned to the parlor, where Mama was sharing wary glances with Madame Truc while holding Margaret-Elise on her lap and listening to Anne-Marie prattle about Patches the Goat. Jérôme was sipping tea and looking about uncomfortably.
Bastien not having returned with Roman—and I think I will have to keep an eye on those two, Amelia, for she is not unattractive, and there is no servant class in Bois-de-Bas—I called for William and sent him off to the wagonworks to fetch a wagon for the Amelia’s crew. Then I took Jérôme aside and informed him of our current plans.
“Bon,” he said. “Le paque will do very well for me.”
“You must consider yourself a member of the family while you are here,” I said, “but I know that family life is not what you are used to these days. We will find a quieter place for you to stay, if that’s what you would prefer.”
“Oui,” he said, and that was that.
How grand and complicated life seemed when I was a newcomer in Mont-Havre, trying to build a life for myself, Amelia! And how much more complicated it seems now that I have done so!
Armand
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Photo by Ana Essentiels on Unsplash
Zymurgia House 