All I want is to be your harbor
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Marie Adrienne Francois de Noailles
Adrienne de Noailles
sail your sea, meet your storm
All I want is to be your harbor
The light in me, will guide you home
All I want is to be your harbor
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Dear Diary, I have received a letter from father detailing out the state of the tipu’s army and I feel he has little hope when the English choose to attack. Not even father can sufficiently whip those troops into shape, they weren’t meant to stand and the european style of fighting will never be something they are good at. Perhaps, if father and the tipu’s other advisors recognized this and instead expanded upon the style already used by the indian troops there would be less disastrous defeats- Oh diary, the truth of the matter is I don’t really care about the Maharajas, and I know I should, and what do I care about the tiger king? I have made a grave error and I fear only pain will come from it and it is folly. I met a man, only the night before, an American. He is…handsome, and rugged, and charming, and kind. More then that, he is intelligent and I can see he is quick and men like that in Versailles are few and far between- “Madame, a letter from…Boston…again! my dear girl, you know you are playing with fire! soon the Dauphin will find out and wonder why there is a woman spy master within his walls!”“I am informed, not a spy master. I do not spy. I beg of you not to say such things where others might hear, Florie,” her voice was subdued as she offered the reproof to the old caretaker, gently taking the note in hand and opening it, letting her eyes scour over the most recent news from the states. It was only to inform her that Knox was marching to Cambridge with artillery captured from Ticonderoga. Nothing dire. All the while though, the old care taker watched her charges face, “anything serious, lass?”“Only that Knox is on his way to Ticonderoga. That artillery will make a good deal of difference in an open fight though I do not think it wise that they engage in too many of those.” She folded up the letter and set it aside, allowing her eyes to drift up to the woman’s concerned face. A sigh escaped her lips and she rubbed the back of her neck, “yes, florence?”“Who is he?”“I cannot begin to know who you are referring to.”“The man who put that crease between your brows, lass, you cannot pretend it isn’t a man and it isn’t the General.” Adrienne groaned and slammed her journal closed, burying her face in her hands and rubbing her temples that were pounding from a headache. “Can we not have this discussion? it is nothing, Florrie, nothing. Now what is something is that my head is pounding, do call for Emeline and allow me some peace.”“Oh no you don’t, young lady, you cannot tell old florrie what to do and expect her to just go where she is told!” “No…why would I ever imagine my care taker to take orders..,” she managed sardonically into her hands but the woman ignored her and continued on while she grabbed a brush and a ran it over her mistresses hair before tying it back into a loose braid and helping her up. “You have over-worked yourself and do not think old florrie doesn’t see how many hours you spend at that desk working out bills, setting dates with statesmen no betrothed women should be setting! Your sisters weigh on your mind, not to mention your mother whose letter you haven’t touched!” They walked over to the bed slowly with Adrienne leaning on the old woman, “It contains more bills and complaints I am not willing to look at just yet,” she managed lightly as she sat down on the bed, “I apologize, now can we please go call for Emeline? I said please.” The old woman scowled at her with her hands on her hips, “aach! you have always had such a mouth on you, it’s a wonder it doesn’t get you into trouble!! I will go, but if you move oh by heavens you will regret it!” The woman stormed out of the room leaving Adrienne to fall down on the blankets with an audible sigh. Perhaps she had worked herself too hard.  

Dear Diary,

I have received a letter from father detailing out the state of the tipu’s army and I feel he has little hope when the English choose to attack. Not even father can sufficiently whip those troops into shape, they weren’t meant to stand and the european style of fighting will never be something they are good at. Perhaps, if father and the tipu’s other advisors recognized this and instead expanded upon the style already used by the indian troops there would be less disastrous defeats-

Oh diary, the truth of the matter is I don’t really care about the Maharajas, and I know I should, and what do I care about the tiger king? I have made a grave error and I fear only pain will come from it and it is folly. I met a man, only the night before, an American. He is…handsome, and rugged, and charming, and kind. More then that, he is intelligent and I can see he is quick and men like that in Versailles are few and far between-

“Madame, a letter from…Boston…again! my dear girl, you know you are playing with fire! soon the Dauphin will find out and wonder why there is a woman spy master within his walls!”
“I am informed, not a spy master. I do not spy. I beg of you not to say such things where others might hear, Florie,” her voice was subdued as she offered the reproof to the old caretaker, gently taking the note in hand and opening it, letting her eyes scour over the most recent news from the states. It was only to inform her that Knox was marching to Cambridge with artillery captured from Ticonderoga. Nothing dire. All the while though, the old care taker watched her charges face, “anything serious, lass?”
“Only that Knox is on his way to Ticonderoga. That artillery will make a good deal of difference in an open fight though I do not think it wise that they engage in too many of those.”

She folded up the letter and set it aside, allowing her eyes to drift up to the woman’s concerned face. A sigh escaped her lips and she rubbed the back of her neck, “yes, florence?”
“Who is he?”
“I cannot begin to know who you are referring to.”
“The man who put that crease between your brows, lass, you cannot pretend it isn’t a man and it isn’t the General.”

Adrienne groaned and slammed her journal closed, burying her face in her hands and rubbing her temples that were pounding from a headache. “Can we not have this discussion? it is nothing, Florrie, nothing. Now what is something is that my head is pounding, do call for Emeline and allow me some peace.”
“Oh no you don’t, young lady, you cannot tell old florrie what to do and expect her to just go where she is told!”
“No…why would I ever imagine my care taker to take orders..,” she managed sardonically into her hands but the woman ignored her and continued on while she grabbed a brush and a ran it over her mistresses hair before tying it back into a loose braid and helping her up. “You have over-worked yourself and do not think old florrie doesn’t see how many hours you spend at that desk working out bills, setting dates with statesmen no betrothed women should be setting! Your sisters weigh on your mind, not to mention your mother whose letter you haven’t touched!”

They walked over to the bed slowly with Adrienne leaning on the old woman, “It contains more bills and complaints I am not willing to look at just yet,” she managed lightly as she sat down on the bed, “I apologize, now can we please go call for Emeline? I said please.” The old woman scowled at her with her hands on her hips, “aach! you have always had such a mouth on you, it’s a wonder it doesn’t get you into trouble!! I will go, but if you move oh by heavens you will regret it!” The woman stormed out of the room leaving Adrienne to fall down on the blankets with an audible sigh. Perhaps she had worked herself too hard.