Episode 2
911 Words
Up until yesterday, she didn't even know she would visit Paris let alone live there.
She had been embroidering in the drawing room,a means to pass time when he had walked in.
He sat down opposite to her,touched her cheeks ever so slightly as he commanded her maid to leave the room while they talked.
Frederic cleared his throat as he told her he had instructed the maids to pack her bags,they were going to Paris.
“ Are we visiting relatives in Paris?” Angelica asked him.
“ No”.
“We are moving there”, Frederic replied nonchalantly.
He continued.
“I have a townhouse in Paris,the new city is great and I can handle work better there”.
“ When do we leave”, she asks him
“ Tomorrow at dawn” he says.
“But that's too early….” Angelica retorted.
To say she was shocked was an understatement.
He didn't let her finish her statement, before he stood up from the chair.
“ We leave at dawn”, Frederic says with a tone of dismissal.
Angelica just sat there with the half completed embroidery in her hands, a bewildered look on her face.
She watched him as he leaves the room.
Is this what marriage is?
She thought.
She calls Lucille ,her trusted maid and confidant.
Lucille had been with her since she was a girl and when Angelica got married,she insisted that her maid came with her.
“ Pack my bags Lucille,we are moving to Paris tomorrow “.
“ Ok,milady”.
Lucille knew not to ask further questions.
She had grown up with Angelica,she knew her every mannerism,every facial expression was mapped in her consciousness .
And at that moment, Angelica's face was unreadable.
So many questions lingered in her mind.
The same unreadable expression was plastered on her face as she watched her husband stare out the window.
He piqued her interest.
She wanted to know what he was thinking, his every thought.
Why he cleared his throat every time before speaking to her.
But since they got married,he hadn't even looked at her long enough to be able to read his face.
She didn't really know him.
The first time they met was when they got engaged in her family's garden.
The second time was on the wedding day.
The ride to Paris was long and stressful.
Angelica tried to read the book she had taken with her for the trip but couldn't.
She had never travelled for so long before or so far.
The road was bumpy and made her feel like she could throw up any minute.
Worst part of the journey,
Frederic her husband was sleeping through it all.
_ _ _
The townhouse in Paris was large,
But not as big as the estate.
floor-to-ceiling windows dominated the front of the house.
The front doors are heavy and imposing.
The townhouse rose in a graceful line along the river’s edge, its tall, narrow facade softened by pale stone and brick walls.
Flowers lined the path to the front door.
As soon as they got to Paris, Frederic left immediately to check his new study.
Leaving her at the entrance.
Angelica was no dummy.
She knew immediately not to look lost and confused in her new home.
Not when maids lined the hall, waiting for her command.
She had been taught to be in control,an homekeeper,for as long as she could remember.
She got to work immediately, giving out instructions, taking a tour of the house.
With Lucille at her side.
At their new home,
Her days passed in quiet order: breakfast at the same hour, fittings with the seamstress, visits she did not choose.
Sometimes he would attend breakfast.
Most times she ate alone.
He was hardly home.
And when he was,his study was his companion.
The city sang outside with wheels and voices and bells,
The city gleamed especially at night .
A contrast to how the house felt.
Dark and gloomy .
Her husband became like a shadow.
He was the dark ,but when a candle is lit,
He disappears as fast as it came.
Frederic occupied the space like a ghost: present, necessary, yet emotionally absent.
Frederic spoke to her when duty called. He asked if she was well.
He spoke when something displeased him.
He told her where to sit, what to wear, when to smile.
He never raised his voice.
He never struck her. He did something far worse.
He forgot her.
He shut her out .
She was reduced to a beautiful centerpiece, attractive to look at but forgotten as fast as light.
An ornament behind lace curtains.
At home, he passed her in the hall without a glance.
He spoke to servants before he spoke to her.
He spent his nights away or locked behind a heavy door, leaving only the sound of his steps fading down marble floors.
Three years passed.
1712
Dinner was the same as usual.
Frederic was home tonight,he had sent one of his workers earlier in the day to relay his wish of having dinner with her tonight.
In simple words,she couldn't eat until he was home.
Angelica had instructed the maids to prepare a special meal for him.
She even supervised the arrangements herself.
Being alone had perfected her skills of planning, without much to do but sit home and be pretty.
There's only so much a woman could do.
- Writer
