Just Miss Agatha

Chapter 3

Agatha

My beloved Simon,

It would not be true and honest love if I were not to lay my heart: the happiness, sadness, contentedness, and despair.

I was quite sad to hear that you will take more time than anticipated to come back. I was looking forward to your return, patiently biding my time, and forever I will continue to. However, I am worried because I think Mama holds no such patience as she has taken a great liking to the Earl of Pembroke. She sees him as a suitable suitor and one eligible to be my husband.

It has become harder by the day to avoid the subject of marriage she keeps tittering on about. Added to that, I am aware that he will propose marriage to me any day from now. His family and my own have me in a corner I can not escape. Reasons for objection have been laid for them and no one will listen. They see me as of not sane mind, and so do the outsiders, who see the title of Earl as more than I will ever deserve as it is two ranks above my own.

I have shared with Mama the love I carry for you, but she will not hear. She believes it to be child fantasies and, "I do not know better." She stands strong that when you come she will not allow our marriage to take place. Mama would rather die than see me with you.

Everyone has become emotional on the matter.

My dearest love, I am at a loss for what to do. It feels as though Mama is forcing my hand to do the unthinkable. I feel as if I was never meant to be happy the moment it was decided she would be my mother.

She does not want to see me happy and refuses to let my life be my own. I am still to forget how she would lock me in the basement and starve me for days so I would lose weight and please her capricious ideals. Then what about the hurtful words she would say, that I was not hers and the midwife must have switched me.

Do you know my love that I have anxiety whenever I eat more than 10 spoonfuls? Perturbation causes me to naturally vomit whenever I feel I ate more than needed. Deep down I still care, even though I do not want to, a big part of me seeks validation and her praise.

She has stripped me of self-love and acceptance and what can only make me content is her words of approval and cheer.

Yet, another big part of me exists that desires to rebel against her. I sometimes wish to make her life difficult because she has been the bane of my existence.

My closest friend is the seamstress because Mama detests those of low class. I marvel to see her in despair, persuading me to get better friends in my class of status.

My favorite food is what she detests, chicken broth. I love to don in dark-colored dresses because she would rather have me be flamboyant in appearance.

However, despite the pain and heartache I face in the summation of this storm, my love for you is my true anchor. I shall not let Mama steal you from me. She will not kill my love for you, the same way she killed Papa by driving him to be an alcoholic till it took him away from me.

I will fight for you, my love. Maybe I will not fight fair and will do the unthinkable and socially unacceptable.

But what matters in the end is to be yours.

Your future wife,

Agatha

Agatha later handed off the letter to a servant who would ensure it was safely sent to him. A few shillings, his reward, and payment for its posting, did she give him.

Then Elizabeth, her serving maid who was to escort her each time she stepped out from home, headed with her to the shop of her seamstress and friend, Madame Anne de Balbi.

"Good morning, Mademoiselle," Agatha smiled at her friend as they entered.

"Madame," Anne corrected in annoyance, her dripping French accent more than apparent. "I am no single maid, but a widow with no notions toward love and marriage."

In truth, Anne never married since she got pregnant out of wedlock. Her parents cast her out and she was forced to escape the judgments of her home country by migrating to London. In a time when the fashion of the French was sweeping into London, she saw it as a place ripe for business.

She could not share with people that hers was a "bastard" child as society would make it hard for her little three-year-old son. Illegitimate children were looked down upon and incited shame followed them for the rest of their lives.

When she arrived in London, they asked about her and her son. In response, she painted the perfect portrait. She was a widow, who had once been married to her son's father. They were a happily married couple, and out of their love was a child conceived. Her son was therefore a legitimate child society should accept and respect.

Thus, she was Madame Anne de Balbi at the age of 23, when her proper title would have been "Mademoiselle Anne de Balbi," the name for an unmarried woman. 

"Is my dress ready?"

"I finished it this morning." Anne went to the back and brought back a large sealed gift box of navy and gray. "I wore this in the streets of Paris a few months ago and everyone thought me a rich widow." During the off-season, Anne did visit home to see her old friends. "It is quite an extravagant dress, you shall see."

"I can not express enough thanks, Anne."

"As a good friend, I encourage you to have a magical time at the Masquerade Ball. In what time will you manage to be at a ball where nobody knows who you are?"

Agatha nodded and forced a smile. "Indeed, I intend to forget my sorrows and live as someone else. Even if it just be for a few hours."

Anne tenderly took her gloved hands and squeezed them lovingly. She understood the tiring trials she was going through. Agatha had bared her heart to her, numerous times.

"Anne, before I forget, I have a request for you. It concerns Rosalie."

She visibly scoffed. "Lord William Grafton's request?"

"Are you aware? Did he visit you before me?" Agatha was taken aback.

Anne nodded and started to work on the dress Agatha found her sewing. 

"And what do you think?" 

Anne shrugged. "It shall be Rosalie's decision."

"What do you think, Anne?" Agatha pushed. Maybe that is why she postponed asking Anne, she knew it would be a sensitive subject. 

"She is a maiden who has come for a better life. She loves arts and wants to grow in it. My heart breaks that vile men see this as an opportunity to get their way. They do not see us foreigners as one of them, even worse if you are foreign and poor." She took a deep breath to calm down. "Rosalie has dreams. It is a pity that she will need to open her legs to support those dreams. Greatly unfortunate."

S.V