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Jun 14, 2008 18:33:35 GMT -5
Post by Jean Jondrette on Jun 14, 2008 18:33:35 GMT -5
Jean sat at his desk in his study. He looked around at all the books that were on the shelves lining the room. Colette had always liked to read and most of them were hers, the others were books on other nations that he did and could do business with.
It had been years since he'd seen his family. He left when Marie was, what, about two months old and now she was two. The time had gone fast and Jean was shocked. In those years he'd go to meet with associates in Japan to make a deal in spices and tea. It was first only supposed to be about six months, but his stay had been extended due to rough arrangements and Hana.
He loved Hana with all his heart and would do anything for her. He had met her at that party and at first sight they were in love. Music seemed to play as he looked at her and when they kissed, it reached to a crescendo. Then he got news of Colette's sickness and had to return to her. He brought Hana with him, for she disliked life in Japan and wanted to return with him. She had no idea he was married, or had a daughter, and she must never find out unless he told her.
It wasn't that he didn't love Colette, he was fond of her, really and didn't mind spending time with her. She was smart enough to discuss politics, literature and culture with, she was also very beautiful, but the love wasn't there. They were forced to wed, which gave them little chance ever to be just friends. But did Colette feel the same, or did she truly love him?
He fiddled with his pen and the inkwell, arranging things around his desk. He was alone in this wing of the house, servants were out doing errands, except a butler maybe who didn't notice his entrance, which was discreet. It had to be, he was coming from another part of Paris, putting Hana in an apartment so she wouldn't be on the street. No one saw him got here and no one saw him leave with the exception of Hana.
He stops fiddling when he heard the door open and close. He closed his eyes and heard Colette talking to someone, most likely Marie, and her laughing, then coughing. The tuberculosis was taking over her. He heard her go up the stairs still talking and then asking whose luggage was in the hall. She quieted and was heard walking down the hall and into the study. Jean opened his eyes and stared at her.
"Colette, my wife...I have returned."
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Jun 14, 2008 23:51:29 GMT -5
Post by Les Jondrette Femmes on Jun 14, 2008 23:51:29 GMT -5
Colette, la Marquise de Jondrette, was a very busy woman. She, Marie and a limited number of the staff had made their way to Paris from the family's country estate, and had been there but a week. Yet from the moment her dainty little heel had set foot in the place, she had gone to work. There was the hiring of staff, the airing of rooms, beating of draperies, cleaning, refurbishing, calling upon neighbors, unpacking the personal effects of the late Marquise to mingle with those of her husband and his father before him (may he rest in peace). She had handled everything with quick efficiency, being quite talented with managing the affairs of the house. Her father and his grimy aristocratic friends used to tease that she had the mind of a man.
Marie had been hesitant about the place. It was not as spacious as the home in which she had spent her days thus far, and the dust tickled her nose and made her sneeze. Marie thought that sneezing was embarrassing, and would always blush afterward. She did not have a little lace kerchief like her mother to sneeze or cough into, which made it more ladylike. Everybody laughed when Marie did it--she didn't understand that they just thought that it was endearing. She was sure it was because of the lack of a ladylike handkerchief. After the initial week had passed and her room was furnished for her, her favorite globe laid out for her, she was content. She took it upon herself to explore the house, though the steep stairs gave her quite a bit of trouble. Colette was never adverse to taking the time to help her with the climb, however.
It was just such an instance now that had Colette, dressed in a very simple pale yellow gown embroidered with tiny green vines and flowers, was balancing Marie with her hands gently beneath her arms as the toddler lifted her little legs to make the way up to the next step. Colette made sure to lift the hem of her daughter's dark green dress to not let it be tread upon by clumsy little feet, and occasionally lifted her to give her the benefit of that last inch to get onto the next step. They had just gotten home from visiting the Opera Populaire, a beautiful place, while the dust was being cleared. Colette's lungs hadn't been able to handle staying around while the help went about doing so. After the cleaning the windows were to be opened and aside from M. Doucret, the butler, most of the staff were to be busy stocking the kitchens for the party that was going to be thrown for the Jondrette family's return to the city.
The telltale tapping of the Marquise's fashionable shoes as she climbed the stairs had alerted the butler to open the door for them; he was one of the few servants that had come over with them, and had served long enough to recognize those heals tapping a block away. The rustle of skirts and the determined, graceful gait of the Marquise alongside the wobbly pitter-patter of Marie's had accompanied their entrance, and after a cordial greeting between the butler and his employer, Marie and Colette had made for the stairs. The music room was upstairs, which was the two's favorite place to spend the later hours of the day.
"Doucret, have the others still not returned? Doddlers!" She said jokingly, although she was helping Marie and not looking at the man.
"No fear, Madame; with this chill, the meat ought not be rotted if they returned next Sunday." He returned, fighting back a smile. Colette answered with a tinkling laugh, just barely lifting Marie onto the upstairs landing. The laugh and the strain combined was too much for her delicate lungs, and she was just barely able to pull her sullied handkerchief from the little pocket near her hip to cover her mouth. She turned her head away from Marie as she did it, and was quick to slip the bloody thing into her pocket before it could be sighted. As she turned back, she halted. She felt her entire being seize with surprise as she sighted the unfamiliar luggage laying in the hall. Marie had sat upon the floor and was tracing the little lines in the wood of the floor.
"Whose is this? These bags?"
There was a pause. "Bags, Madame?" Was the reply. She stilled again, her breath catching. Without wasting a moment, she rushed down the hall, and turned abruptly to stand in the doorway of the study. She had no doubts that if he had arrived, he would be here. She was right. Her eyes met his as they opened, and there was a moment of stunned silence before he spoke. Colette, my wife... I have returned. Her heart leaped into her throat, but she remained collected. She was always cool and collected. The only sign of her excitement was the working of the tendons in her graceful neck.
Another pause drew out before she said, for lack of more clever words, "I see so." Yet another pause followed before she advanced into the room, standing before him. She held out her hand for him to kiss in the customary greeting, but as she did, she whispered, "Don't tell Marie." She meant about the consumption; she would not trouble her daughter with such things. Only a few loyal members of the staff knew, and no others aside from Jean, herself, and the doctor that had diagnosed her. She refused to take to bed and withdraw from society for her final months, as was customary. She was without hope of survival anyhow.
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Jun 15, 2008 14:45:55 GMT -5
Post by Jean Jondrette on Jun 15, 2008 14:45:55 GMT -5
Jean bowed and kissed her hand, hearing the words Don't tell Marie... knowing that she wouldn't understand and she shouldn't be troubled by that. He then raised to his real height, towering over Colette, causing to lower his gaze to her.
She didn't look any different than before his leave, except maybe she looked weaker. He was not as he used to be as well. He still smelled of the spices of Japan, his hair was longer than it was, but put in a sensible style and his face looked a little older.
"It's been so long, Colette. Oh, the things I must tell you about Japan. A very strange country from a foreigner's eye, but it wasn't dangerous, it was quite good to me." Jean was babbling now. He was saying random things and jumping from one topic to another. "It'll be nice to have some French food again. But enough of me, what about you? Are you feeling alright, or do you feel horrible? Where's Marie?"
He then noticed a little shadow on the ground, lurking towards the study. He gulped, knowing who it was. The girl who was his blood, the girl who never knew he father except from pictures and letters. How was she going to act? Was he just a fairy tale come true? Was he "that man" to her or would she care for him.
He noticed Colette turned and saw the shadow to. She smiled and cooed it to come out. In the doorway stood the little girl, who looked like a cherub from the Renaissance paintings. He walked forward and kneeled to her height.
"Are you Marie?" she stared into his eyes. "Well, Marie, I'm your father."
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Jun 15, 2008 17:31:03 GMT -5
Post by Les Jondrette Femmes on Jun 15, 2008 17:31:03 GMT -5
A small smile crept onto Colette's face as he kissed her hand, and it could only be described as flirtatious. In the time that he had been away he had become even more handsome, had grown into himself; he had a ruggedness about him that complimented his refinement quite nicely. His eyes were sharp and intelligent, something that she had always admired about him.
As she watched him rise to his full height--had he grown a little?--she felt herself tingle all over. He was handsome, intelligent, clever, well-read, kind... Perfect. And all hers! It was true that their marriage had never been passionate. The consummation of it had resulted in the conception of Marie, and she had not been required in his bed since then. For her pride's sake, she attributed that to his busy work life.
He seemed suddenly a bit nervous, and babbled onto this and that. Of course he was nervous, she thought. He had not seen his family in such a long time. Talk of Japan excited her. She had not traveled outside of Europe, yet her studies of other cultures intrigued her. "Oh, you can tell me all about it over a good French supper--the neighbors will be here to celebrate your coming home in a week's time. I am quite excited to hear."
She paused as his eyes flicked to the shadow of their daughter in the hallway, who was still sitting and imagining that the squiggly lines on the parquet were rivers down which boats (her fingertips) were floating. She was making little sound effects, even, and mumbling to herself. "I am feeling quite well," Colette lied absently, and then turned fully to the doorway. "Marie, Marie-Belle..." She cooed, "Princesse." Marie pulled herself up and toddled to the doorway.
The little cherub in question stood with her lower lip sucked into her mouth, her large blue eyes trained shyly on the newly arrived stranger. As he came and knelt in front of her the eyes went over his black hair, as ebony as her own. No one in her life had ever had hair like her, excepting the hunting hound of one neighbor in the country; even that black hair was not like hers. His was. She was two young to put two and two together. "Are you Marie?" She nodded and then dropped a wobbly little curtsy. "Well, Marie, I am your father."
He hadn't been what she imagined. She had imagined a kingly knight on a horse, with armor and a banner, like she saw in the storybooks her mother read to her. In all of those books, the princesses and the heroines always called their fathers 'Papa'. Until now, Colette had always said, 'your father', and that was what Marie knew him as. She eyed him skeptically for a moment, a scrutiny of intense blue eyes that was a mix between both of her parents. Then she said decisively, "No."
Colette stiffened, surprised. She remained coolly impassive outwardly, as always, with a gentle smile on her face. She relaxed as Marie's face broke into a smile and she grabbed with her tiny hands at Jean's hand, nearly yelling, "You are my Papa!" The little girl then proceeded to drag him (as best as she could) to her room, to point at the little bow on her globe. "You are there." She said, matter-of-fact, to Jean, beaming at her own cleverness. Colette, who had followed behind, could not help but smile.
"No, dearest, he was there. He is home with us, now," She said.
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Jun 15, 2008 19:02:45 GMT -5
Post by Jean Jondrette on Jun 15, 2008 19:02:45 GMT -5
Jean's heart stopped when he heard that word. No. It was so small yet it hurt him so. Then he saw he smile and say "You are my Papa!" That was the moment that he fell for her. She was part of his world now, they were connected and all he wanted was her love.
She giggled and dragged him to her room and pointed to a globe saying that he is there. Colette corrected her saying he was there, that he was home now. That was music to his ears. He had forgotten about everything else at that moment.
"Yes, I'm home at last. I don't know why I would ever leave Paris!" he picked up Marie and swung her around. She giggled as he danced with her. He saw Colette smiling at the father and daughter.
Seeing Marie brightened up his world. He thought his world be a disaster, but this had proved him wrong. He put his daughter down and ran into the hallway towards the luggage. "Marie, Colette I have brought you gifts from across the world." he pulled out a few boxes for Marie and another couple for Colette. Marie looked at her mother and waited for her to open hers. Jean knew that Marie must've been dependent on Colette.
Colette opened the box and pulled out a green silk kimono with a light blue hem. She opened the other one and found a beautiful fan. It had flowers at the bottom and Mount Fugi at sunset. "It was custom made for you. I hope you like it."
Colette thanked him with a kiss and an embrace. Then Marie squealed with delight at her gifts. She found a little doll that resembled her greatly with a china face and a fan that was similar to her mother's but instead of Mount Fugi, it had a scene of girls at a tea ceremony.
Marie hugged her father for the gifts. "What will you name your doll, mon ange?"
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Jun 15, 2008 19:27:44 GMT -5
Post by Les Jondrette Femmes on Jun 15, 2008 19:27:44 GMT -5
Colette's heart was truly near to bursting. When she had first come into the room, seen him there... why had he not announced himself? She had wondered if something had gone terribly wrong. No, she was certain that it was just initial awkwardness, for he was away a long time. Perhaps even worry for her. That gave her an odd pleasure. She watched with a warm smile on her face as Jean lifted Marie into the air, and the child shrieked in delight as she was tossed and danced with her father. Colette had not been able to do that. When she was a very small child, Marie was too delicate for such things, and then she got heavier while Colette got weaker. She was very glad. Marie needed a father, and Colette couldn't think of a happier man to give to her. A joyful laugh rushed out of her unbidden at Marie's happy face, all smiles. The bow in her hair had come askew.
Gifts! Both women, tall and small, became excited at this. Marie expressed it a great deal more than her mother did, but even Colette's cheeks flushed a little in pleasure. "What is it, darling?" She asked, stepping forward to see as he excitedly pulled out the boxes. She was handed her box and playfully gave Marie a sly look, intentionally building the suspense. Finally Marie, who stared wide-eyed and waiting at her mother, gave an impatient look and with a laugh--and a cough--Colette opened the box. The articles that she extracted left her breathless, and not because of her illness. They were so beautiful! She held the kimono to herself and sighed. She had always been a lover of beautiful things, and was marked as a queen of fashion by the ton. She resolved to wear the kimono to the party, though certainly with proper undergarments--to not do so would be highly improper.
She smiled lovingly at Jean and before her instincts could stop her, she had swept forward to embrace him. Her lips mets his quickly and chastely, for when he had been here, they had hardly kissed. It felt very bold for her. He seemed to take it in stride, and she felt a rush of relief. Her attention was turned to Marie as the little girl squealed happily at her gifts. A little doll was in her hand, with hair quite as black as hers, and a sweet cherubic face. The eyes were clearly oriental, however.
Marie hugged the doll delicately to herself as if it were a precious baby, smiling up at Colette. She pointed to the fan and said, "She has one too!" In answer Colette unfurled her lovely fan and fluttered it coquettishly in front of her face, which made Marie laugh. Marie then set about trying to think of a name.
"I don't know any Japan names." She said, looking between her parents. "Japanese, dear." Corrected Colette kindly. She was always, always teaching her daughter. Marie seemed quite used to it. "Japan knees." She said solemnly, nodding her head as if she had known all along.
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Jun 15, 2008 20:17:04 GMT -5
Post by Jean Jondrette on Jun 15, 2008 20:17:04 GMT -5
"Japanese names, hmm..." thought Jean trying to help his daughter come up with one. Hana's came up immediately but that would be horrible to name the doll after his love. He came up with more names. "How about Yua, Noa or Ren? All mean 'lovely', Marie?"
Jean looked at Marie trying to contemplate the name of her doll. "It's alright, dear, why don't you think about it and then decide." Marie smiled, saying that as long as it meant lovely, as she went into the corner and thought about it. She was distracted, leaving Jean and Colette able to talk privately.
Jean led Colette out of the room and they were in the study again. "So, the neighbors will be here for a party soon?"
Colette replied positively and asked more about Japan. Jean had to be careful about what he said, hopefully not saying anything revealing.
"Japan was lovely and everything was very calming there. They had beautiful gardens that made me stare for hours. The people were very hard working, but I wouldn't agree with all of their culture, but that's just my familiarity with French ways of life."
Colette looked genuinely interested and Jean went on. He described the city, the scenes, the buildings and everything he could.
When he looked at Colette, he felt bad that he didn't love her. He knew that she would've made another man happy if he never came along. He would try to fulfill being a husband in her final months.
"...Colette, I have to know, how long until you...leave us? Not to be rude, but I have to know how much time we have to prepare, the time I have to restore years of not being here with Marie. Just tell me now and that'll be all I need to know."
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Jun 15, 2008 22:03:43 GMT -5
Post by Les Jondrette Femmes on Jun 15, 2008 22:03:43 GMT -5
Marie stared in consternation upon her doll. What odd names! She shook her head, hardly able to believe it. Didn't people make fun of children with names like that? They had a bit of an appeal, though, even if they did sound funny. They were pretty, in their own way. Like 'Scheherazade'. Even so, they all meant 'lovely', and that's just what the doll was. It fit. Which one, though? She would be sure to pick the prettiest one. With a smile at her father she slunk back against the balustrade of the stairs down the hall, mumbling to her doll.
Colette watched her daughter slink away and her happy smile faded a little. Jean was indicating for her to follow him, and she felt a sudden sinking feeling in her stomach. It was time to come back to reality, she supposed. She hoped that his affectionate mood would not wane. Lifting her chin and giving him a casual glance, she nodded and began to follow him to the other room, where they could speak alone. While he moved into the room she hovered about the edge of it, coming to stand behind a chair, where she laid her delicate hands as if upon shoulders and eyed him. He inquired after the party, and she nodded in the affirmative. It would be a grand affair. Anybody who was anybody would attend, including a few artists, politicians, and writers. She treasured a good mind and a apt partner in debate, especially in her guests.
Partly to break the tension in the room and partly to satisfy her own curiosity, she said, "Tell me more about that land across the ocean, Jean. What were the people like?" As he spoke she made a turn around the chair to sit perched upon the edge of the seat, back straight as a rod, one ankle folded daintily under the other from the side. Her eyes drifted off to stare at nothing in particular to better imagine the extraordinary things that he described. He didn't agree with all of their culture. Of course not! Some of their practices were positively barbaric.
As he stopped, she waited for him to continue, assuming that he was just collecting his thoughts on a pause. When he didn't continue for some time herself, however, she resigned herself to the ending of an exciting tale and her eyes flicked back to focus on him. What she saw there in his face did not please her one bit. He looked... guilty. A little flame of anger and hurt licked at her heart. Her mind flew over some of those barbaric practices. Had he been served by a geisha? A man could go to Japan and buy a wife (not considered legal in the civilized world, of course) there; a trained prostitute, a strumpet of seduction. Her cheeks flushed hotly in anger.
...did he...?
"...Colette, I have to know, how long until you...leave us? Not to be rude, but I have to know how much time we have to prepare, the time I have to restore years of not being here with Marie. Just tell me now and that'll be all I need to know."
He sounded so businesslike. It was another blow to her heart, and in a moment she had her red handkerchief out and to her mouth, lost in a fit of coughing. She bowed her head and turned her face away as she did so, not wanting him to see. She would not let anybody see her laid low, by anything--even nature. She casually tucked the cloth back into her pocket and turned to him passively, as if nothing had happened and they were discussing the weather.
"I am told that I will half of a year, if I am lucky," She said, her eyes drifting over to the window to look out upon the darkening sky. The day was growing late. Would he sleep in their marriage bed? Would he require that they sleep separately? Her eyes flicked back to him with a stony smile. "I have always regarded myself as quite lucky." She concluded, asserting that she planned to stay in the realm of the living as long as she possibly could. She would fight for more time until it killed her: truly. Standing, she wandered over to the window, placing one hand on the frame as she looked down upon the people passing on the street.
"Anyhow, enough of that sordid business. Such things they do in Japan!" She said, playful but firm, diverting the subject away from her illness. "I hear that they quite revere their whores--Geisha, as they are called. Imagine! The whole of feminine virtue, turned upside-down." She turned her face to gouge his reaction, her eyes sharp and scrutinizing.
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Jun 16, 2008 15:29:18 GMT -5
Post by Jean Jondrette on Jun 16, 2008 15:29:18 GMT -5
Jean was shocked at the forwardness of Colette's comments. He didn't consider Hana ever to be a whore, nor did he any of the geishas she was friends with. Jean wondered why she would bring that up, but he looked in a nearby mirror and saw he had a guilty look on his face. He was a marvelous actor though and didn't look shocked at all. He would act normal and unbroken.
"Actually, that's what I thought before I went. It's true that a man can purchase one, but in actuality, he pays for her education and training. They are called donnas, one of the associates was the donna of a geisha, darling little thing and usually, the geisha becomes a servant in the household. It is up to the geisha is she is to be what the Western cultures defines as a prostitute."
Colette looked a little taken back by the explanation and Jean was happy that it was over, but to add more he simply added, "Of course, they offered me one, but I turned it down. They said it was customary in Japan even for a married man, but I couldn't do it."
It was true, he didn't act as if he was Hana's donna, but he was romantically involved making the actions similar, but he didn't pay her.
Colette looked indifferent, but Jean was worried about her after that fit of coughing she had. He got up and walked over to her. "But I want to keep a good eye on you Colette. I'm going to be working from home a lo more now, so I'm close by. Also, it's be safer if we were in the same bed, just so I can easily hear you if you go into one of your fits."
Colette smiled and agreed. Then they both heard Marie rushing towards them, but not too fast, with her doll in her hand. "Have you thought of a name?" asked Jean.
Marie nodded and opened her mouth.
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Jun 16, 2008 18:01:01 GMT -5
Post by Les Jondrette Femmes on Jun 16, 2008 18:01:01 GMT -5
Colette watched as a guilty look flitted across his face, and was then gone. Once again, he appeared academically self-assured and relaxed. He spoke of the geisha as he had the Japanese buildings and landforms. She didn't know what to think. Was it an act? What he said next set her better at ease. He had not accepted a geisha. She could tell that he was not lying. Jean was not one at all for lying, despite his talent at acting. He was a very morally upstanding man, and lying often ate at him. She had watched it happen before, though he rarely indulged in petty lies.
She decided to let it slide, for now. She knew, however, that something was wrong. He had done something that she would not have approved of, and it was serious enough that he was not telling her.
Her suspicious train of thought was broken as he started toward her, coming to a halt just in front of her. She turned fully from the window to face him. The words he spoke were kind, and so was his expression. Was he truly worried for her? He suggested that they sleep in the bed, and yet he said just so. Had he no desire for her at all? He was a man; certainly he would either demand his marital rights or satify his desires elsewhere. She paled, a thing that made her a ghastly white, for both illness and natural complexion had made her skin quite pale as it was. That was what was wrong. He had a mistress. Of course he had a mistress! She was a fool. It was no new circumstance for men of nobility. She shouldn't feel so terribly hurt and angry.
Despite her turbulent emotions she remained completely composed, smiling in thanks and nodding her head to show that she agreed with his proposal. The pit-pat of tiny feet silenced Colette's assenting statement and she turned to see Marie turn the corner into the room with her doll in hand. She looked excited. Colette felt a great deal of her bitterness melt away at the sight. "Have you thought of a name?", asked Jean, and Marie nodded, dignified.
"Papa, mama, meet Yua," She gushed, holding the doll out in front of her proudly as if they hadn't already seen it.
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Jun 16, 2008 21:00:19 GMT -5
Post by Jean Jondrette on Jun 16, 2008 21:00:19 GMT -5
"Well, Yua, welcome to our little family," said Jean, bowing down to Marie.
He saw a smile creep over Marie's face as she held the doll to her cheek. Jean stood up and looked at Colette, who looked happy, but she seemed too happy. Did she suspect something? Of course she did!
What was he to suspect. The same case was with her father, who had taken a mistress before his wife had died, Colette was afraid of what would happen to Marie. He had to make sure she did not think this. Of course he planned to marry Hana after Colette's death, but she was a kind woman and would never replace Colette in Marie's eyes.
"You know what we haven't done in a long time, my dear?" Jean asked Colette. "We haven't walked through the Luxembourg gardens in years. Not since Marie was a little tot."
Marie seemed to like the idea and so did Colette and they both went off to get into more suitable clothes for a stroll in the gardens.
Jean smiled as they walked away and he went to go put his luggage in his and Colette's room, following behind his wife. He noted that there was two separate beds from before his trip as he saw Colette go towards the large walk-in closet.
He began moving the nightstand that separated the beds out of the way, before he pushed the two beds together. "Colette," he said. "It will be nice to have someone in my bed with me after two long years. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather spend it with."
Colette seemed to like this and Jean had made it sound as romantic and affectionate as possible. He also tried implying performing their martial duties to each other as well.
Colette walked out from the walk-in closet with a new outfit on and a large, but stylish hat to block the sun from her pale skin. Jean held out his arm for her to take and she accepted it.
They walked down the hall to Marie's room, where she walked out in a new dress and Yua close to her side. Jean noticed it was similar to Colette and Marie's relationship, the little one clinging to the bigger one.
"Well madame, mademoiselle, are we ready to leave for the park?"
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Jun 18, 2008 5:47:14 GMT -5
Post by Les Jondrette Femmes on Jun 18, 2008 5:47:14 GMT -5
Marie smiled, hugging the doll to herself. Her little fingers stroked the lovely silken material, wondering if she would look anything like her doll when she grew up. Colette smiled at her daughter and then raised her eyes to meet the watching eyes of her husband. His gaze was shrewd and knowing. Had he guessed what she expected? She would not doubt that he was capable of drawing such a conclusion, for he was a very perceptive man. She watched as his smile warmed again and he asked, "You know what we haven't done in a long time, my dear?"
Colette quirked her brow, curious. A smile played on her lips. Many things, she wanted to say. He finished, "We haven't walked through the Luxembourg gardens in years. Not since Marie was a little tot."
Colette's eyes widened a bit. Walks in the gardens with baby Marie had been as the modicum of their better days, even if there had not been exceptional romance in them. Colette had felt invaluable then, as the mother of his child. She had glowed with pride, the toast of the marquisate, the woman of the Marquis Jondrette. In the last few years, with Jean gone, she had become even more so a benefactor to the good people living on their land. She had been the one to sit at the desk, to wheedle and demand of buyers of the land's yields, to organize the things needed to make the lives of those beneath her run smoothly and well. They loved her. In humor, the people had begun calling her 'Ma bonne Madame le Marquis'. She had tactfully ignored the title.
As Colette happily nodded her assent and went about ringing the bell for her lady's maid, her mind wrapped around the thought of those people in the country, now under the care of a hired man for a short time, but soon to be without her for good. Jean was a very smart and caring man, she had no doubt that he could do it. Yet, would they love him as they had loved her? Perhaps. No new wife would be welcomed, surely. At least for a certain amount of time.
Jean grabbed up his luggage himself as Colette's young lady's maid hurried up the stairs, giving a quick curtsy. "My family is going for a walk. Assist my daughter in dressing and send up Madeleine for myself. Tell Doucret to ready the cabriolet and Jean's favorite horse. He shall be happy to see the old friend and have a nice drive to the gardens." She instructed quickly, her eyes on her husband. What an odd fellow he could be sometimes. They had hired help and he insisted upon moving his personal effects in, himself. As the maid curtsied to Marie and followed her into her own room to help the little girl dress, Colette started on her way down the hall and into the master bedroom.
She opened the door to the separate room where trunks of her clothing and hats were stored and were her vanity lay situated against the far wall. She looked over her shoulder at Jean as the lady's maid, Madeleine, entered and began to unlace Colette's dress. The maid was quick with her work and soon Colette stood in her drawers and chemise. The maid shot nervous looks at the open door and then longingly toward the privacy screen folded into the corner, obviously not approving of undressing her mistress within the view of a man, even if they were married. It was unseemly. Colette knew, but ignored her. She was testing Jean. As her hair was let down to be re-wrapped in a more sturdy arrangement she glanced over her pale shoulder at him just as he was moving the separate beds together. She smiled as he said her name, pleased with his affectionate gesture. "It will be nice to have someone in my bed with me after two long years. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather spend it with."
It relieved her. She took it as a sign that indeed he realized her suspicions and was ready to dispel them. She was all-too wary of all men, especially husbands of the quality, but would take this romantic offering laced with suggestion as it was for the moment. It made her feel lighter and happier to do so. Madeleine replaced her petticoats and corset, then proceeded to dress her in a golden-yellow gown with cleverly placed lavender stripes and ribbons. With her hair pinned up once more, she donned a wide-brimmed hat that matched and exited the room to stand before Jean. She smiled at him lovingly, taking in his warm smile, just as he offered his arm to her and walked out, followed by the maid who was dismissed for the time to go about her other duties.
They arrived at the door to Marie's room just as it opened and the maid walked out, curtsying to them quickly. "Her ladyship is ready, Madame," She said quickly, before scurrying after the older and wizened Madeleine. Marie edged out dressed in sky-blue silk and white lace, her hair curled in ringlets. She held Yua to her like a little friend, the doll's loving benefactor, and smiled up at her parents.
"Well madame, mademoiselle, are we ready to leave for the park?" Asked Jean, and both women nodded.
((Thread continued on "Streets of Paris", at "A Walk in the Luxembourg"))
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Reunion
Jun 26, 2008 19:35:30 GMT -5
Post by Jean Jondrette on Jun 26, 2008 19:35:30 GMT -5
(Continued from 'A Walk in the Luxembourg.')
Jean opened the door for the women, receiving thanks as they passed him. As he closed the door he could hear the servants chatting around the house, until Doucret announced them.
"Presenting, Monsieur le Marquis de Jondrette, Madame la Marquise de Jondrette and Mademoiselle Marie Jondrette," he announced. All the servants appeared in the front hall and bowed to them. Jean told them to relax and they soon straightened up.
"My family and I would appreciate a dinner," began Jean.
"What would you like, Monsieur le Marquis?" asked Madame Archambault, the cook.
"I'm in the mood for any type of French cuisine, preferably Coq au Vin, without the garlic, if you please, with crêpes as dessert, any type you feel like making. Does that sound fine ladies, I remember you liking that dinner before I left Colette?"
Colette seemed shocked that he remembered, but she nodded with a smile and Marie seemed to like that idea and applauded it with giggles. The kitchen staff replied positively and went off, saying it'd be ready soon.
The three retired to the drawing room and sat on the large comfortable sofa. The drawing room was extravagantly decorated, Colette had done it herself, with large windows that faced the streets. There was a black grand piano in the corner, a lush, beautiful rug that was in the center, on top of a white carpet, drapes hung over the windows, painting graced the walls, and a fire place was at the other end of the wall, usually blazing hot with fire in the winter. This was one of Jean's favorite rooms.
"Marie," he said smiling at the young girl. "Would you mind entertaining us with a song?"
Marie looked up at her mother and Colette answered positively as she walked towards the piano. Colette took her place, opened the music book, telling Marie the song, a simple little one, and began to play.
Marie opened her mouth and out came a wonderful and innocent voice. She sang with perfect pitch and excellent vibrato, which took him to another world, a world where his problems didn't exist. He smiled as he closed his eyes and saw the world. To describe it with words would be useless, anything said would be an understatement. Jean heard the song coming to a close and he came back to Paris, back to reality.
"Marie, where did you acquire such a voice?!"
Marie smiled and uttered the most adorable answer.
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Reunion
Jun 26, 2008 22:14:50 GMT -5
Post by Les Jondrette Femmes on Jun 26, 2008 22:14:50 GMT -5
It was a difficult walk back for Colette, though she hid it well. Her lungs felt as if filled with liquid fire that sloshed and burned with every step. Her head was light and she felt fatigued. When at first she had decided that she would hide her illness and never take to a sickbed, she had not known how difficult even standing upright would become. She managed it now only with a firm resolution to keep those around her unaware of her condition. With a pleasant smile in the direction of her husband she entered after little Marie, her hand gentle guidance on her child's back. The servants made a great show of welcoming the entire family back to Paris, and Colette had to admit that she was pleased. The whole staff seemed to be quite pleasant and honest people.
She watched as Jean requested dinner and was shocked to hear him name off her favorite meal. Had he remembered that? Such a small thing to remember, but it was so sweet that he did. She smiled slightly in his direction, taking time to adore the kindness in his face. Marie was clapping and giggling out her assent, possibly because she quite loved crêpes. As the help went about preparing the meal Jean led his two ladies into the drawing room, which was decorated lavishly but with comfortability. Colette seated herself without hesitation at the piano bench, which was where she spent most of her time when indoors with Marie. Marie crept to her side and leaned forward to look at the little dots and lines of the music sheet, pretending that she could read it.
Jean settled in and then asked, "Marie, would you mind entertaining us with a song?" Marie blushed a little but was reassured by the warm sideways glance that her mother sent her. The little girl bristled in preparation as Colette sifted through the pages on the stand and settled for a short song about lambs in fields of lavender. She named the song for Marie and Marie sighed, for she liked the song quite a bit. As the first notes of the piano drifted out from under Colette's fingers, Marie felt her heart pounding in her chest with nervousness. She wanted so much for her father to approve. She opened her mouth and out came her sweet voice. She had very great potential. Her range was without fault and she had exceptional control for her tender age. Marie fell into the song as lambs danced in her mind, and all of her childish innocence poured out through her voice with giddy wonder and awe. She could feel the fleece of the little lambs back home beneath her fingers, all tight curls and fluffiness. When the song ended she was all contentment.
Colette turned quickly to see her husband. She smiled with pure pride when she saw his astonished expression. She knew full well that her daughter was a little prodige, and was not about to try to conceal it. Both she and Jean loved music immensely and were talented vocalists, though as born nobility the stage was not a socially acceptable option. She had been quite renowned for her voice in the choir of the convent and in the notable drawing rooms of Paris. Now, in her own drawing room, she smiled upon the little creation that she, her husband, and music had spawned.
Jean finally expressed his amazement. "Marie, where did you acquire such a voice?"
A darker blush crept onto Marie's cheeks and she smiled shyly. "I didn't find it, Papa. It came by itself." Colette chuckled at the answer and lovingly brushed a strand of black hair that had fallen in front of Marie's face. She spoke to Jean without looking away from their daughter. "You will understand if the babe of my womb was trained extensively in music." She turned to smile at her husband and said coyly, "She sings to herself when she is frightened."
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Reunion
Jun 26, 2008 23:08:21 GMT -5
Post by Jean Jondrette on Jun 26, 2008 23:08:21 GMT -5
"Well, Marie, we have something in common," said Jean. "I sing when I'm nervous or scared."
He was often asked to sing at parties, sometimes even a duet with Colette. Jean was happy that his daughter had some of his traits, it would make it easier to connect with her and gain her trust, the most important thing to him.
"Marie, I want to talk to you seriously, you need to listen carefully, can you promise me that?" Marie nodded and looked with question. She was a child and very curious about adults and their words. Jean got on his knees and looked into her eyes. "Marie, I want you to know, that you can come to me with anything. If you need to know anything, if you have questions or just need to talk to someone when the world doesn't make sense, I'm there for you. Don't hesitate to tell me anything, because no matter what you'll say or do, I'll always love you. Do you know why?" Marie shook her head sideways, letting her hair toss. "It's because you are my daughter, my flesh, my blood, my life, and I'm your Papa. If I don't want harm to come to you, I would die before being the person responsible. Do you understand, mon ange?"
Marie nodded yes and Jean opened his arms and embraced her. He felt Marie's tears stain his shirt, but he saw the smile on her face. They were tears of joy and happiness! Jean wiped the tears away and saw not only Marie's face, but part of Colette's face.
He felt guilty. He was guilty of adultery and his wife was dying, how else was he supposed to feel. He knew that Colette would have to know before she died. If Jean never told her, he would go mad with anger and guilt of the sin he never confessed. He would not leave Hana, no, he loved her and needed her. When he's laying on his deathbed, he wants to say he loved a woman romantically at least once and Hana was that woman. But if Marie ever found out as an adult... dear God, she would never forgive her Papa, and that would kill him, literally.
But he was content, looking into the eyes of Marie and into the face of Colette. He was speechless, but luckily, Madame Archambault walked into the drawing room.
"Dinner is ready."
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