Lettre pour mes Followers #2
I have officially moved into my husband's belle et noble maison, Hallowpark. Apparently Mister Henley's mothers, l'héritière de la famille d’Astley, bequeathed it to him. I was ushered in by these strange servants with these big white wigs to meet my new step-daughter. Do you know what chat? I fell completely in love with her. I gave my new step daughter all the gifts I had bought for her and brought her to see her father. I expected he would be happy to see us getting along so well. Turns out he doesn't like to spoil his daughter and by giving her extravagant gifts I had set a bad precedent. I was a little shocked but I understood that every family is different and I would have to make some adjustments to his lifestyle. I quickly apologized and we moved past it.
A similar occurrence happened a few days later when I tried to teach my new step daughter Les Fontaines Fables. When I showed my husband what I had taught her he became quite perturbed that his daughter was spending time learning frivolous stories and requested that I leave the teaching to her tutors. Of course I understood and agreed that it was best if her education was left in the hands of professionals.
But that's not where the strangeness ends. Every night when Mr.Henley and I go to bed, I lie awake and look out at the wall only to find myself face to face with a giant portrait of his dead wife. I haven't had a good sleep in a week because whenever I close my eyes I can feel her watching me, judging me, as if she's saying "how dare you sleep with my husband in the bed I once slept in. how dare you call yourself Madame Heneley."
What should I do chat?