xxxClaire’s Plea – 220

Claire’s Plea – 220

Claire begs Molly to conjure her into a farcical court dinner with Franklin and Wollstonecraft, giddy as a schoolgirl at the thought.

My dearest Molly — and, oh drat, I can see the others peering over my shoulder as I write this, so I suppose I must confess aloud!
It happened in a quiet corridor, between a painting of some dreary hunting scene and a bust of Cicero that had seen better days. Adam — yes, our solemn Adam, who pretends to know nothing of merriment — drew me aside. He cleared his throat twice, as though summoning courage for a sermon, and then, with the most serious eyes, asked if I would accompany him to a court dinner.

A court dinner! With Benjamin Franklin! And Mary Wollstonecraft!
Do you hear me squeal? I nearly tripped on my hem. Me, Claire, asked to play the part of some dignified lady among philosophers and radicals! What in heaven’s name shall I wear? What shall I say? What if I spill soup on Franklin’s breeches, or worse, contradict Mary herself?

Molly, you must make this happen. I beg you — weave your enchantments and spin me into that dining hall. Let me blush and stammer, let Adam grow red as a beet, let Franklin wink across the table with some American mischief, and let Mary roll her eyes at my nonsense.
Yes, I am like a schoolgirl pleading for a masquerade. But I can think of nothing more delicious than this comedy of manners unfolding under candlelight.

Oh please, Molly — I am on my knees (and Byron is snickering, blast him!). Grant me this farce!

Yours in giddy desperation,
Claire