Mass had never seemed so drawn out before. It was almost as if Father Phillipe wanted to tire us out to the point of desperation before we even left the church.
"In sin are we born, and in sin do we live, all but for God, who strengthens and purifies us."
Maybe mass wasn't so bad. Maybe it was the thought of what was awaiting me when I got home.
The dress fitting.
This chapel will be waiting for me a month from now. Along with him.
The thought made me almost fidgety.
Marriage seemed almost too close for me to fathom it completely.
"In grace, we are saved, and by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, we are to live faithfully in His great service. As did the disciples and all those before us. And with this..."
Without my meaning to, a sigh escaped me. I felt my mother twitch next to me.
"Is the Word of our Lord and Saviour boring you, my dear?" my mother whispered to me, her mouth barely moving as she tried to not draw attention to us.
"My apologies, mama."
Satisfied with my response, she turned toward the father again.
Heaven help me.
***
"Don't you think Madame Roux could have worn something a bit less red tonight?" my mother commented next to me, her voice sounding like it couldn't be farther from enjoyment.
My mother, always the socialite, decided that we would be attending another ball in the area tonight. One, I was told, the La Ponte family would also be attending.
"We have to make a good impression, Anne Marie." my mother told me earlier that day when I asked if it was really necessary.
We were already engaged after all. Now it's all down to the planning of the wedding.
A cough sounded at the back of my shoulder, dragging me out of my thoughts.
Turning around, I saw him then.
His dark hair looked almost untamed tonight. The charming smile he always seemed to wear seemed natural, as if he woke up like that.
"Good evening, Lord La Ponte." My mother spoke first. "Lovely to see you, as always."
"And you, Lady Mercier." He smiled in her direction. And then turned toward me and bowed. "Mademoiselle Mercier. You look beautiful tonight."
"Thank you, my Lord." I curtsied in turn.
"Might I have the next dance?"
I smiled. "Why, yes. You may."
***
"You know, I really meant it." He smiled, his eyes locked on mine as we waltzed around the dancefloor.
"And what could you possibly mean by that?"
"I meant it when I said you look especially beautiful tonight."
There was something extremely honest about my betrothed when he spoke to me. Something that I couldn't put my finger on. Something that made me want more. Something that made my stomach lurch and my heart beat a bit faster.
"You know, you already have the engagement. You don't need to flatter me anymore."
"I know. But, isn't it more fun when you mean it?" He asked, turning me in the process.
"I don't think my mother would appreciate you calling a compliment of my visage 'fun'."
"I don't care what your mother thinks." He stated, nonchalantly.
"Then whose opinion do you care about?"
"The woman I am to spend an inordinate amount of time with for the rest of my life, of course. Her opinion should be the only one to matter here, don't you think?" He said, giving me a strange look.
Something in his eyes made me so aware of the hand he was currently holding.
It was just a glove away from being a touch, or a caress.
His hand on my back felt almost warm. It made me feel safe, secure again.
And for a moment, just one sweet little moment, I felt as if every breath that has ever existed inside me, was robbed right out of my lungs.
***
That night I couldn't sleep.
The wedding is a month away, and maybe I should be ecstatic that there is something between me and this strange man.
Maybe I should be ecstatic to live my life with him.
But the image of my father haunted me, now more than before.
He wouldn't make it through the summer, I think.
Mama thinks I worry for nothing. But she hasn't noticed what I have yet.
He was getting more and more unsteady on his feet, sleeping more than usual and eating less.
Tap tap tap.
Maybe she was right. Maybe I was worried for no reason. Maybe I was overreacting.
Tap tap tap.
The sound broke through my reverie.
Standing up from my bed, I threw the nightgown that Colette placed at the foot of my bed on, and slowly moved to the window where the sound was coming from.
Must be another bird. They tended to lose their way and land on my windowsill sometimes.
But, when I looked down, it wasn't a bird.
No. It was an unkempt man that looked suspiciously like my fianceé.
"Excuse me, Sir? Are you lost?" I asked, my voice echoing across the courtyard.
"Well, if I were seeing another woman staring down at me, maybe."
And that was when I knew: I was marrying the most inappropriate man in all of France.
"What are you doing here? There is an appropriate time for calling on someone, you know. And it is normally over tea in the morning. Not in the middle of the night, half dressed and in the courtyard of Mercier Manor."
"I needed to see you." He said, stepping forward.
And then he started climbing.
Climbing up a very large building that did not have much foothold for him to climb up in the first place.
"Gerard! Gerard! I swear if you don't get down from there this very minute, I will kill you before the fall does!" I whisper-shouted, not wanting to wake my family.
Thankfully, he made it to the balcony before I could start panicking about what I would tell his parents should he fall to his death.
"You look lovely when your hair is down." He said, once his leg was swung over the threshold leading to my window. The smile on his face was one of the most boyishly charming things I have ever seen.
"And you are mad. Honestly, am I to take you to the asylum once we're married?"
He smiled even larger at that. "I needed to see you."
"Must be urgent." I said, suddenly too aware of the flimsy material covering my nightdress. And too aware of the smell of spirits coming off him.
"Anne Marie, I need you to know that I am more than happy to marry you." He said, his gaze softening on mine.
The comment made something inside of me leap a little.
"Why, thank you Gerard."
"But, I can't." He said, the light that was previously there, slowly going out of his eyes.
The shock that reverberated through me at his words made me stumble back a step. My heart was in my throat.
"We have been betrothed since childhood, Gerard. There isn't any question about whether or not we will be getting married. You cannot jilt me a month before our wedding."
"I...Anne Marie, I'm not who you think I am." He said, his voice turning slightly more desperate.
There was something about the look on his face that made me almost sick to my stomach.
As if there was something bad around the corner, something I couldn't see but that was there nonetheless. As if I knew, but I was jumping into the fire anyway.
"If you are not who I think you are, then who are you?" I asked, my voice sounding unsteady even to my own ears.
"A protestant, I think."
***
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