And it seems, He has also granted me an angel…
by
La Baronne
I
Victoria wandered the Paris streets alone. Not a very wise thing for her to do, especially in the wee hours of the morning, but the fact was, nobody knew, or likely cared that she was gone. The night was black, with no stars to be seen. Antoine was gone; there was nothing to be done. Victoria had no more tears left to cry. That had been done at the funeral one year ago.
Their life together had been bliss. They had met seven years ago in England, during one of many summers spent in London. It was Victoria's homeland. Indeed she had been born there, but she had lived in France most of her life, and had considered it truly her home.
At first, she'd wanted nothing to do with the rather foppish Frenchman, but Antoine Duvalier's persistence finally won her over. They fell deeply in love, married, and settled in Paris that very Autumn. It was three years of Heaven. They hadn't yet been blessed with children, but even though Victoria was nearly thirty years old, she was still of childbearing age, and there would certainly be time. Tragically, it was not to be. Antoine, barely thirty-five himself, took suddenly ill, and was dead before a doctor could be summoned.
Victoria found herself on the bridge over the Seine. She felt herself drawn to the parapet, overlooking the murky, rushing waters.
"Antoine, I'm coming!"
Somehow, in spite of her full skirts and her delicate frame, she hoisted herself up to balance there precariously. She felt cold, even though she wore Antoine's oversized greatcoat. Victoria's thick, raven tresses flowed freely to her shoulders…it was the way Antoine loved it most, and since his funeral, Victoria would have it no other way. Her eyes were as dark as her hair, and they starkly contrasted with her delicate, porcelain skin. Victoria Duvalier was a beautiful woman, who was now utterly alone as she stood, contemplating her own demise. She looked down at the wall.
"Curious. Why would somebody leave his hat?"
Victoria suddenly felt a chill. A gust of wind almost knocked her off the wall. She got to her knees and held fast.
"No!" Victoria heard a voice. "You must not!"
"Antoine?" She cried, knowing that was impossible. "Antoine!"
"This is not the answer." The voice continued, "You are needed."
Silence.
Victoria looked around, still balanced unsteadily. Her eyes were drawn to the hat. She picked it up as she clambered down. The impulse to go to the riverbank seized her as she placed the hat on her head. It slid down well below her ears. It was obviously a man's hat, and a rather large one at that, but somehow, she felt comforted wearing it. Picking up her lantern, she took the quickest route she knew to her destination.
II
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