Thursday, July 11, 2013

Noises in the darkness


[Journal entry]
31 May 1773
I fear I shall not sleep to night.  Though traveling and many tasks should have wearied me, each foreign noise troubles me. The rain has a gentler hand in the northern country... a lusher palette and softer canvas upon which to paint.  The droplets here sound so coarse upon the stones.
Three times I have arisen from my bed to investigate an unfamiliar sound, and three times I have felt more foolish.  Once, the passing shadow of a wind-whipped branch nearly saw me call out for one of the servants.  I have reproached myself for being so childish, and yet I cannot help but feel perhaps too young for the task set before me.
I know that the servants gossip; not even one and twenty, with a station they feel is far beyond my capabilities. I have become aware of the stifled giggles of the maids when I misstep or try to be firm with a clumsy footman.  But these things mustn't weigh upon me, for I have made a promise, and I intend to prove to them, and to myself, that I will make a good mistress of this house, and... perhaps someday... a worthwhile and useful wife.
The rain is now starting to ease.  There is a change of atmosphere in the patch of trees beyond the walled garden, turning black to dappled golden hues, and I know the dawn cannot be far away. I pray for even an hour's rest, to fortify myself for the day's work ahead.
I have a weekend party arriving in only three weeks, and I must be at my best to assure that everything is in order for their arrival! 
To morrow, I shall visit the church and pray for a stronger will and for a foundation of wisdom upon which to build my future.

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