Dangerous Letters

Chapter Six

Letter XV

September 27, 17—

My dear Hannah,

I was delighted to receive letters from you, two apiece, dated from the 7thand 12th, and can scarcely convey the happiness these brought me. I am thankful to hear you are well and ardently hope you continue so. I must express my sincerest thanks for the kindness that you show my parents in visiting them weekly; it is a great source of comfort to know that you have taken such pains to care for them and I can only express my eternal gratitude. You should have made me, if I was not already, duty bound to love you forever.

I am touched by your concern regarding the sociability of my new home, but I hasten to assure you that I am now quite content. My days are busy with the young Mademoiselle and most of the spare hours left over are spent in my preferred way of contemplation and long solitary walks through the gardens. The seclusion here makes for a quiet, monastic life, which appeals to my more introspective tendencies.

I am not entirely bereft of company though; I have taken pains to befriend a maid, Rosa, who joined not long after myself. She is timid and will hardly speak more than a handful of sentences at a time, but is a very sweet girl and has an excellent heart. She hails from ------- and always has, when she can be induced to tell them, interesting stories about growing up in the heart of ----. I first met her when she helped round up my pupil, who had gone out bonnetless and shawlless as she is want to do, and so we were united force in bringing the little hellion back into the warmth!

I also, finally, met the Master when he summoned me down to his study; located in a remote corner of the ground floor, it is one of the largest and stateliest chambers in the mansion. It is a room lined with polished mahogany; a dark, serious wood that imparts a certain import. There are two tall windows that take advantage of the ceiling height, but these are mostly obscured by the drawn blinds, half-shrouded in festoons and falls of ruddy drapery. There is a very long and wide writing desk in the centre, draped with reams of deep red damask that spill over onto the dusky carpet. This is then piled high with a disorder of loose paper and rough scribbles, heaped upon several books in various states of being read. Three amply cushioned easy-chairs, a rich and velvety red, flank the central display. The biggest, positioned just behind the desk and currently serving the Marquis, was even grander and looked, I thought, almost like a crimson throne.

The Marquis is what you might expect of someone in his standing; he is all well-bred pride, so innate it becomes almost slovenly, and has such natural charm that I was very gratified when he bestowed it on me for that short while. I found his face, though not pretty, quite striking in its sharp jawline, aquiline nose and deep-set eyes. He has a way of regarding a person with an intense sort of interest and, seated before him, I felt oddly bear to his gaze as if he peer into my innermost thoughts and pluck every heart's desire from my breast. There, however, I shall end my thoughts with the conclusion that he appears a man of sterling and resolute character; pray, do not mention my impressions to my parents; I fear I was a little too effusive in my description of the Master in an earlier letter to them.

"You look exactly as your portrait," he observed, referring to my image that hangs – as you know – in Lady F-----'s parlour. "I am very pleased by the artist's efforts."

"Yes, I believe that Lady F---- has engaged the services of Monsieur V-------- for many years now."

There was an awkward pause which, I remember vividly, lingered because I had the sense that the Marquis was about to add something else. He evidently decided against it however, and I eventually broached the subject of his daughter's lessons – but was disappointed to find that he had quite strange ideas regarding her education. He told me that he considered himself "an historian, an essayist, a biographer, a scientist, a dramatic writer and a philosopher", and that he had every hope his daughter would become the same. "She should be skilled," he added, "in the art of music, language and drawing. I do not wish to see her disciplined but would ask that you nurture the liberty of spirit and mind, so that it becomes naturally inclined to such pursuits rather than forced to bend towards them through that subservience we customarily breed into our young girls. I have oft said that human intellect is a sort of barometer, directed in its variations by the atmosphere which surrounds it."

I'm afraid that I am still not entirely sure what he meant. When I impressed upon him my opinion that a little structure and guidance was beneficial, he dismissed the suggestion out of hand. We ended without my making any progress at all and, as if sensing my dejection, he said very affably. "Do not mind, my dear, you will appeal again and with my weathercock instability of opinion" – here he gave me a conspiratorial grin – "I may be prevailed upon yet".

I do find him a very odd man.

He is writing, he told me, something on liberty and the bourgeoisie – he seems to have a quite audacious fondness for revolution politics notwithstanding his own station. Oh! and an unfathomable disregard for novels, poetry or anything of a fictional persuasion save from plays which he believes should be only watched and never read. I was, therefore, further unsuccessful in suggesting that Villette might find this kind of writing instructive. He was scornful at the idea and I have little hope of broadening the scope of the chateau library that, at present, does not cater to more chimeric tastes.

When you write to me again, as I insist you do with all haste, I beg of news about dear little Bea and Jacq.

With best love, etc., I am affectionately yours,

Charlotte

Letter XVI

October 02, 17—

Dear Madame de G--------,

I beseech that you overlook the impertinence of this letter, for while I do not wish to flout the rules of civility, circumstances have arisen that have prompted me to risk impudence at a sudden attempt to renew our previous correspondence. I write to you about a most serious concern, one that I feel I can only address to an esteemed person, such as yourself, with great experience and wisdom on the matter.

I dare not presume that you remember me from my stay in L--- some six years ago, when I was in residence with the M-----------s. I was then a tutor to their two children, now of age, and a frequent visitor to your estate where I was privileged – having followed your writing on the subject of church and education – to speak to you at length on the subject. We exchanged several letters in the year following, and I remain forever grateful for that kind communication.

I now find myself, Madame, in a position to solicit advice once more – I have taken up a new role as governess to a young child of a prominent member of this country's nobility. Yet I find that, and here I hesitate least I speak out of turn, the household exercises little religious devotion. The staff prays to be sure on Sunday, and I have that day as my own (per my request), but my pupil has been given no Christian instruction and cannot be persuaded to read nor listen to the teachings of the Bible.

The chapel here is all boarded over – to the extent that you cannot see within its confines, the light being blotted out of our Lord's home – and, as far as I can tell, neither the Master nor his daughter set foot in church. I have been told, however, not to interfere with this decision and that my ward must not be instructed in religious teaching that she does not desire.

What, then, am I to do? If I persist, as I feel I must, then I go against the instructions of my social superiors whom I ought to show obedience. Conversely, should I adhere to this directive, the child may grow up – forgive my language – quite godless. This is a moral uncertainty I feel that I am too inadequate to answer.

I must plead, Madam, for your discretion on the matter and implore that your answer contains your most candid thoughts, whether these are a rebuke of my actions so far or not.

Might I also inquire, if you are kind enough to offer a response to this letter, as to the situation of the neighbourhood at L--- that I was once so taken with. I ask specifically after the D-------s and whether they are still at L---------- P--- in the autumn months. I have a correspondence with the family but have no heard from them in some time. There is no need to mention this; I am merely interested in satisfying my curiousity.

Your obliged,

Ms. Charlotte B------