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Friday, March 13th
As always, staff meetings started with gossip. Ethel, the cook, says “Jean, you clean Lady Amelia's room, right? What do you think of her?”
“Um…” Jean chews on her lip before blurting out, “The girl seems like she's halfway into a nut house! Mostly she's normal, but sometimes she'll start sobbing or get angry out of nowhere. Once, I was gathering the laundry from her room and she was reading a book on her chaise lounge and then she went over to her dresser and demanded to know where the painted vase came from.”
“The one the Duke had me deliver while she was away?” the Butler interjects with concern.
Jean nods her head and continues, “The very same and I said that her father sent it from London. Then she told me to leave, and I did but I waited outside her door for a second and I heard something smash. I didn't want to go back in and risk punishment, so I waited until dinner to clean her room, and I found the vase shattered on the floor!”
The staff gasp in disbelief. “What a spoiled child!” Margaret, one of the maids, says, “That vase likely cost more than all of our homes combined!”
One of the seamstresses, a woman named Agnes adds, “Speaking of spoiled, I sew her clothes sometimes and she refuses to wear British woven cloth. She said that until Indian muslin or cloth from the colonies arrive, she'll only wear the outfits she brought with her. The majority of the dresses she has are made of wool that was woven by supporters of the unrest in the colonies.”
“How did you find that out?” Jean asks.
“She talked about how she would participate in those so-called spinning bees and helped make the dress with women whose husbands were fighting against the Crown!”
“How could the Duke, a general who has served the Crown for years faithfully, have a wild daughter like her?” James remarks, “He should have sent her to a convent to learn about submission to her father's rule and humility!”
Ethel sighs. Oh James, you and your religion. You should have become a priest instead of a butler with all the preaching you do. “At this rate he should just marry her to whichever Lord will take her. That would force her to settle down”.
“Honestly, if she isn't at least betrothed soon, no one will take her and our poor Master will be stuck with a spinster for a daughter,” Jean agrees.
Another maid points out “Or she might be too sickly to be married. She’s been basically a ghost for the past 3 months”.
Everyone murmured in agreement.
Looking at the time, James tries to corral the group back onto topic, “Enough gossiping! We must talk about the upcoming event!”
“James, you enjoy talking about these things as much as we do,” Ethel replies.
James turns bright red and says, “Anyways, as everyone likely knows, the Duke and Lady Amelia will be going to Court in London next month. They have told me of the specific staff they wish to bring and the additional positions that they have no preference for.”
He places a piece of paper on the table. “This list has the names of the people who are going to London and the positions that need additional people. If not all positions are filled, the staff will be picked by reverse seniority.”
“We also need to start preparing rooms for additional guests. As per usual, Lord Matthew will use his standard accommodations, and he will arrive in 2 weeks. John, are you or Jacob able to act as Lord Matthew’s manservant?”, James asks.
John considered the question and said, “I suppose for a week or two but after that whichever of us is working as the manservant won’t have enough time to do our normal duties once Lord Matthew gets settled in.”
“l’ll make sure to hire someone before Lord Matthew comes so that the new servant has time to shadow one of you and learn their duties. Meanwhile, summer is coming soon and thus preparations need to be made for the festival”
Meanwhile, Jean whispers to Ethel, “Who is Lord Matthew? I don’t think I’ve heard of him?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t know who he is.” Ethel whispers back, “You were hired about a month after his last visit. He’s the Duke’s son.”
Jean tilted her head in confusion, “Is he the Duke’s heir?”
Ethel shrugged, saying, “We don’t know. He’s only given the courtesy title of Lord but not any of the Duke’s lower titles, so we presume that he isn’t.”
“Well, how old is he?
“He seems to be a year older than Lady Amelia.” Ethel looked around before moving closer to Jean and murmuring into her ear, “For all that our Duke says they have the same mother, I don’t believe him. I’ve collected the mail before and sometimes the Lord receives letters addressed to Matthieu Bonnefoy, so I think that his mother was a member of the French nobility and that her family might be trying to convince the Duke that he should be given to their family as an heir. Not that it would work since he’s also the only son of the Duke that we know of”
“Who’s Lady Amelia’s mother then?”
“We don’t know that either. Allegedly, she died in childbirth with Lady Amelia but I have been here for over 20 years and there were no pregnant women at this manor at the time of her alleged birth. Whilst in the Colonies, the Duke sent a letter asking for us to make all of the necessary arrangements for a young girl and it was only once he arrived here with her that he announced that she was his daughter and she would be addressed accordingly.”
“Doesn’t that mean that Lady Amelia and Lord Matthew were born out of wedlock?”
“They both were presented to the King and Queen and they are addressed with the last name Kirkland in court. Maybe the Duke married their mothers in secret and then once they died, took the children. Then he wouldn’t need to have the mothers titled as former Duchesses of London”
Agnes butts in and says “The Duke might not have had permission from the King for his marriages either.”
“Why would the Duke need the King’s permission to marry?” Jean questioned.
Agnes smiled, her grin showing her missing teeth, “Some people think that his Mother was Princess Caroline. She moved to St James’ palace thirty-five years ago, only being seen by family and close friends, and the Duke is thirty-four years old. Him being her son would explain the close relationship between the Duke and the Royal family. It would also mean that he is in the line of succession for the throne and thus the King would want his marriages to be respectable in case of tragedy.”
More confusion showed on Jean’s face at Agnes’ words. “Did the previous Duke not have a wife either if he could just bring home a baby without questioning about if the child was born out of wedlock?”, Jean said.
“Funnily enough, the previous Duke had a wife at the time,” Ethel replied. “But we were at war and there was concern about invasion so the Duchess was moved to a manor in Wales.”
“Why do people think that the Duchess is not the mother then if they were married?”
“The child had blond hair while the previous Duke had black hair and the Duchess was an auburn. In contrast, Princess Caroline had light brown hair and was a close friend of the previous Duke. I believe our current Duke even visited her a few times.”
Suddenly, James yelled, “All right then everyone. Before this meeting ends, just a few reminders. If anyone knows a young man who is willing to work as a manservant for Lord Matthew, please tell me. And make sure to put down your name for the trip to London otherwise people will be assigned positions. Dismissed!”
“Oh, I better talk to James”. Ethel muttered, “My youngest needs to start working soon.”
Ethel went over to James leaving Jean with Agnes. Agnes deftly left the room while Jean was still stuck in the crowd of people. She followed a seamstress that she knew to the fabric room where she found the older woman again.
“Agnes, Lady Amelia told me that she wants French silk for her court dresses. Do we have any French silk?”
Agnes cackled, saying, “Heavens no! The Duke has never allowed French goods in this household unless to make a point regarding the poor quality when visited by a politician from France. If that girl wants French silk for her dresses, tell her that she must request it herself from the Duke. Although I highly doubt that he would permit her to have the silk, especially after the word he got from a correspondent that France was thinking of helping those damned Yankees with their foolish rebellion.”
Once she finished speaking, Agnes looked up from her mending and saw Jean wringing her fingers.
Agnes sighed and asked, “Do you want me to tell her that she needs to request the silk from the Duke directly?”
“Yes please.” Jean muttered, still wringing her hands.
“Well, tell me if you change your mind, you need to learn how to talk to your mistress. Off you trot then and take the mended underclothing with you,” Agnes said gesturing to a pile of clothes.
Jean walked up the servant’s staircase and went to the family wing hallway. As she walked down the hall, yelling started to leak through the door at the end of the hall. What did she do this time?
“Your ungrateful behavior continues to astound me every day. This would elevate you to the status of princess!”. At those words, Jean started to walk faster. When she got to the door, she stood with her back to the wall adjacent to the door. She could just barely make out the words coming from the Duke.
The Duke exclaimed, “Any other woman would be exuberant at the idea of marrying a prince, never mind the crown prince!”
Jean’s hands went to her mouth, dropping the clothing on the ground. The Lady Amelia marrying the crown prince! Oh Lord, I need to tell Margaret. Jean then realized that she dropped the clothing on the floor and muttered “Oh bugger”. She picked up the clothing and ran back to the servant's staircase, hoping to find Margaret in the kitchen, likely flirting with the new kitchen boy.
If my mistress is to become a princess, perhaps I should become a little braver and learn how to talk to her.
Amelia’s eyes glimmered with tears that she refused to let fall. She exclaimed angrily, “I don’t want to be a princess! I want to go home. I want to see the land that I was born of and be with the people that I represent.”
Father responds, “That will not happen for a long time, not until the colonies’ cooperation with the Crown is completely assured”
“The colonies’ cooperation will begin once you start treating them with the rights afforded to British citizens.”
He rolled his eyes, dryly asking, “And when will your cooperation begin?
She stares pointedly at the door to her room that locks from the outside and says, “When you stop treating me as a doll that can be played with when you wish and put away when inconvenient”
“You live a life more luxurious than most people and you still complain?” He goes up to his daughter and slaps her, his rings catching on her check.
Amelia falls backwards onto the Chaise longue, blood dripping down her face just as quickly as the cuts healed.
He waits to see if she will apologize. She will not.
Once she gets up from the chair, he grabs her arm and says, “Look at me, you spoiled child-”
She interrupts him and yanks her arm from his grip, “Every time you berate me, you contradict yourself! You tell me that this is what any other woman would want, then you call me a child. Which am I, a child who deserves grace and patience or a woman who in your words is soon to be a princess? And beyond that, am I your daughter who is going to leave your household to join the Royal family or am I your colony which needs a constant iron grasp to prevent from rebelling. What do you want me to be, British America or Lady Amelia Kirkland?”
“You are both and your failure to recognize that is why even if your simple farmers had succeeded, you would have failed as a nation”. Father retorts, “Just as you are failing to be a good daughter!”
At his words, Amelia puts her head in her hands and screams silently. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Yelling at him will do nothing but make the situation worse. Be calm.
“I am trying my best. But every time I see you, you come up with something else that I need to be punished for. I haven’t had more than a week without you caning my back for a perceived mistake or in response to some trouble back home,” Amelia pauses for a second to take a breath and fold her arms before continuing, “You act like my people still have an organized rebellion when you know as well as I that everyone who had the means and willingness to start something that could succeed against your empire are dead or kept compliant by threats. You saw to that last December. Besides, if I am failing as your daughter, I would think that you wouldn’t me to join your precious royal family”
“Regardless of your personal and foolish political failings, you are still a woman and that gives you certain capabilities”, he says while gesturing to her stomach. “As such, you will marry that boy, you will be a good obedient wife, and you will serve as an example to the people in the colonies of what happens when people remember their rightful place. Your courtship will be announced 3 weeks after we arrive at court. You will be courteous and seem pleased with Prince George during our time there. You will also start lessons with Queen Charlotte and her court. The wedding planning will start in June and you shall be married by January”.
He’s been planning this long enough to have a timeline? When was this decided?....How long would the good Christians of this country ignore that their crown prince’s wife looks exactly the same as when they were married? There must be a time limit on this or else Amelia Kirkland will once again be buried in a shallow grave with no headstone.
She hides her anxiety from these thoughts by responding, “And how long am I expected to be an unaging bride to the future king?”
“6 years or the birth of 3 living children. Your death will be incredibly tragic and caused by childbirth fevers or the loss of a babe.” He says offhandedly, “Regardless, you will be remembered as a beautiful young lady who did her best to fulfill her duty to the royal family or as the tragically deceased mother of the heir’s heir”.
Oh Lord, what about the children? Am I human enough to have living children? Will they die young or have horrible deformities? How would I be expected to leave my children when my time is up?
Amelia shoves her fear aside, shakily saying, “So I must spend the next several years being subservient to the family that oppresses my people and then be made a tragic figure. Excellent. Get out of my room.”
Father scoffed, “You’re merely proving my point, maybe I should suggest to Parliament that more taxes should be levied on the colonies”
She walked toward the couch and flopped onto it. She muttered, “I’ll start being a proper lady tomorrow”.
Amelia hesitated for a moment before asking quietly, “Will Mattie be at court for the announcement?”
“If I find your behavior over the next few weeks acceptable, then yes, he will join us”. With those words, he opened the door and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him while the lock makes a clicking noise that echoes through the room leaving Amelia with sight she has grown used to.
A door blocking her from leaving.
3 hours later
Amelia hears a knock on the door before a voice says “Lady Amelia, may I come in?”
Oh. It’s just Jean. She’s probably here to drop off some laundry and then immediately scurry off like a scared mouse. Amelia sighs, relieved that she had already washed the blood off her face, and replies, “Go ahead Jean”
Jean enters the room. She sees stains of blood on the couch, quickly ignores the sight, and turns to face Amelia.
Jean blurts out, “Agnes wants you to know that if you want French silk, you need to request it from the Duke”
Amelia’s jaw dropped. She actually spoke to me! Not just responding to a direct question or saying something courteously.
“I guess that I don’t need French silk then…My dresses can be made of Piedmontese silk” she said, a bit shocked.
The silence after Amelia speaks is deafening. Jean starts to fidget while Amelia continues to stare in shock.
Eventually, Jean hurriedly mumbles “I’ll tell Agnes immediately” and walks toward the door.
As she speaks, Amelia rushes to grab Jean’s arm stopping her from leaving. “Wait!”, she exclaims.
The pair stared at each other, Jean in confusion and Amelia in desperation.
Amelia removed her arm and said “Sorry, I mean…Could you just stay here and talk to me? I haven’t had a real conversation with someone other than my Father since October.”
Jean looked uncomfortable but she replied “Of course, my Lady. What would you like me to talk about?”
Amelia walked over to the couch and sat down. She gestures at the chair on the other side of the table before saying “You don’t need to call me a Lady while it’s just us. I don’t care for noble titles. And could you just talk about your life? Tell me about your siblings, your parents, your hopes and dreams, and your favorite book.”
Jean started, nervously, “Well, I have 2 older brothers, 1 older sister, and a younger brother. My mother works in the kitchen here and my father is a candlemaker. My brother, Colin, is the oldest and he’s married and living in London with his family. My other older brother is named Abraham and he’s also married but he lives here with his family. My sister is named Prudence and she’s getting married in a few months to a boy who works with Colin in London. My younger brother is named Joshua and he’s an apprentice for my dad. I hope to get married one day and maybe learn to draw. I don’t have a favorite book… I’m afraid that I never learned to read.”
“Oh, that’s no problem, I taught plenty of people to read back home.” Amelia said flippantly, “If you want, I could teach you when you have time. As you can see, it’s not as if I have many things to do”
“You need to promise that this won’t interfere with my work. My family needs my wages, especially with my sister getting married soon.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll inform James that I’m taking you as my personal maid so you’ll have more time to learn. And, if anyone finds out, I’ll take the blame. It’s not something that my father would really care about punishing me for.”
Jean stared at Amelia with curiosity in her eyes, “....”
“I know you want to ask me something. Just say it. You're free to speak as you wish here with no repercussions.”
“I overheard part of your conversation with the Duke. Why do you not want to marry the prince? You would probably become the most powerful woman in the land, the Queen! You would never have to worry about anything again”
Amelia looked around for a second before quietly saying, “...I’m not meant for noble life, never mind royal life. I could never be the person that they would want me to be.”
“What are you meant for then”
“America. I’m meant to be in the fields helping out with the season’s crop or maybe working as a delivery girl in a city. All I know is that I’m not meant to be here.”
“Why did you come here if you wanted to be there?”
“I never had a choice,” She replied. “You should go back to your normal duties. You’ll be reassigned to my service before the end of the week.”
Jean took the offered escape and left Amelia’s room.
I think I shall go horseback riding. I haven’t had a chance to ride Belladonna in ages!
Amelia walked out the door and down the hallway. She wished that she could explore more of the manor, as things seemed different from the last time that she was here, but she did not have a lot of time before she would be summoned for dinner.
Father would not be pleased if she did not attend after the earlier argument and she did not want to have to deal with more welts on her back.
She found the main stairway and went down them. She wandered towards the staff areas, eventually encountering James.
“Ah, Lady Amelia. What are you doing in this area?” He said with no small amount of surprise and confusion toward her presence.
“Oh, I'm just looking for the stables but I can't seem to remember where they are,” She replied.
James seemed annoyed at the thought of having to show her to the stables like he was a common servant but he begrudgingly did.
When they arrived, Amelia thanked James before walking into the building.
The walls… they weren't this color last time. And where is Belladonna? She should be somewhere in here unless Father sent her to the Villa in Wales.
Amelia went up to a stable boy and asked “Excuse me, do you know if there is a mare named Belladonna here?”
He looked puzzled, saying “I don’t think so but I can ask one of the people who have worked here for a while if you want?”
She nodded and he walked toward the back area of the stables. Amelia walked toward the closest stall and put her hand through the bars. She looked at the sign labeling the horse’s name as Jupiter. The stallion moved to the front of the stall while a weathered voice yelled “Don’t do that!”.
Ameila kept her hand in place, and the horse ducked his head for her to pet. Stroking Jupiter’s glorious mane, she turned to the man while he gaped at her.
“That horse barely lets people he’s known for years even get close to him,” The old man exclaims, “And yet you are able to pet him!”
Amelia gives a sly grin, replying “Horses have always liked me. Now, is there a mare named Belladonna here?”
The old man scratches his head, thinking deeply, “We haven’t had a mare named Belladonna in the past twenty years. The last one was the mother of our current line of racing horses but she died in 1758.”
She’s dead. I raised her all on my own and she’s dead… I wasn’t even here with her at the end. I’m twenty years too late to say goodbye.
Father never even thought to tell me that she died.
She blinks away the tears that started to form and shakily says “Thank you” to the old man before walking back towards the house.
Amelia went back to her room in a daze.
She sat on her bed feeling nothing. The room was greyer than it was before.
Sunday, March 15th
Jean walked in Amelia’s room holding a stack of carpets, freshly beaten, ready to place them back in their proper spots. Meanwhile, Amelia sat on the chaise lounge, working on a piece of cross stitch. It was only a fourth of the way done but the beginnings of the Kirkland Family crest were already forming.
Amelia turned her head toward Jean and calmly asked, “The other day, how did you get into my room?”
Jean’s hands trembled a bit, nearly dropping the carpets before steeling herself, “Whatever do you mean, my La-I mean Amelia? I opened the door and walked in.”
“Father locked the door as he left. A normal servant would not have a key to unlock this door. It would only be given out with express permission from Father,” Amelia accused calmly.
Silence filled the room. Jean froze, filled with panic.
Amelia sighed, before turning back to her cross stitch “He asked you to spy on me, didn't he? He offered you extra pay, food, or what have you, and in exchange, you would come here to try and get information so that he can keep tabs on me without my awareness. Am I correct?”
Jean nodded, suddenly filled with guilt for Amelia. Has she always lived this way? Needing to check if everyone who even shows the remote want for friendship is actually a paid spy from her Father. What a lonely life.
“Well, I can't say that I didn't expect this. His plans are always a bit too obvious to someone who is familiar with them.”
Jean paused for a moment, before asking with a slight tremble in her voice, “Do you still wish for me to be your maid or do you wish for me to return to my normal duties?”
Amelia tilted her head, obviously confused at the question, “I'll still have you as my maid as long as you are willing. You can even report to my Father for all I care. You just need to not tell him that I know. Tell him about all of my other activities and our conversations as requested, just do not tell him that”
Jean nodded her head furiously and said “Yes, my Lady.”
“Please just call me Amelia. ‘My Lady’ is far too formal for my tastes.”
Jean went back to placing the rugs back in their proper places, “When you talked about America, you said about working in the fields. How did you end up doing that? That’s not something that any child of a Duke would be normally doing, nevertheless a daughter”
“Well, I wasn’t with my Father for most of the time. I was raised by a slave woman named Miriam and her family. I grew up with their children and once I got old enough to need less care, Father sold everyone except Miriam and her husband, Abraham. But their children were bought by a man not far from the house, so sometimes when I was tired of what I was supposed to do at home, I would go to that farm and I would help the others with the crops or with whoever was sick in the slave quarters.”
Jean put the last rug down, and wondered, “Why would you help them? They’re slaves, they’re below even the lowest white person.”
Amelia finished the last stitch for a dark blue color, cut the string, and tied off the end. She moved toward the desk and placed the cross stitch down next to a bible that had the stains and tears on the pages.
“It is our duty to help them. Due to their lowness, it is our responsibility to teach them about things like the proper order and lead them to salvation”. Amelia opened the bible, flipping through the pages. “They cannot learn if they do not have someone to teach them or if they are too ill to learn. I think that when the government sees that they have proved themselves capable, they should be allowed to shed their chains”. Hopefully, I will be able to shed mine as well.
Jean shrugged and replied, “You are a very strange person with many absurd ideas.”
Amelia smiled, gently grabbed Jean's arm, and guided her to the chair at the desk, “I think I will take that as a complement. Let us start our work then, the book is turned to Exodus chapter 3. You’ll start from verse 1, read aloud until I tell you to stop.”
Jean turned her attention to the book and put her finger under the first word, speaking slowly, “Now Moses kept the flock of ….”
“Jethro” Amelia interjected, “This passage has some hard names. Just sound them out and I’ll help you if need be.”
“Jethro, his father in law… the priest of Mi…dian: and he led the flock to the backside of the desert, and came to the mountain of God, even to Ho…reb.
And the angel of the LORD appeared unto him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush: and he looked, and, behold, the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed.
And Moses said, I will now turn aside, and see this great sight, why the bush is not burnt.
And when the LORD saw that he turned aside to see, God called unto him out of the midst of the bush, and said, Moses, Moses. And he said, Here am I.
And he said, Draw not… nigh hither: put off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.
Moreover he said, I am the God of thy father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. And Moses hid his face; for he was afraid to look upon God.
And the LORD said, I have surely seen the affliction of my people which are in Egypt, and have heard their cry by reason of their taskmasters; for I know their sorrows;
And I am come down to deliver them out of the hand of the… Egyp..tians, and to bring them up out of that land unto a good land and a large, unto a land flowing with milk and honey; unto the place of the…Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the Amorites, and the Perizzites, and the Hivites, and the Jebusites.
Now therefore, behold, the cry of the children of Israel is come unto me: and I have also seen the…”
“Oppression,” Amelia adds. “You’re doing great”
Jean finishes the verse, saying “Oppression wherewith the Egyptians oppress them”.
Amelia exclaims “You did really well!”
“It’s just a bible story that I’ve heard hundreds of times,” Jean said blushing.
“But this time, you read it, you were the one saying the words, and you don’t have this chapter memorised. So, even if some of the words came from memory, you were still reminded of others by the words on the page,” Amelia explained.
She opened a draw and grabbed a new copy of the bible. She handed it to Jean, saying, “Practice reading aloud whenever you can. You can write down questions that you have in the margins or put little notes on how difficult words are pronounced”.
“I can’t take this,” Jean stammered. “How much money did this cost? It is worth far too much to be given to a person like me”.
Amelia raised an eyebrow, questioning, “And what kind of person are you?”
Jean stayed silent.
Amelia sighed and declared, “You are a child of God, Jean. And that means that you deserve a copy of His words. Do not be concerned about the price. This copy was given to me a bit back but I prefer the copy that you just read from. Please take it. It’s much more useful as a tool for learning than just taking up space in my drawer.”
Jean begrudgingly took the book. But as she grabbed it, the cross stitch caught her eye. There was something embroidered in dark blue thread on the black part of the crest that almost looked like letters. She put the book back on the desk and reached to grab the project.
However, Amelia stopped Jean’s arm before she could get it.
“What are the tiny words you have embroidered into your cross stitch?” Jean inquired
Amelia put the cross stitch behind her back, replying, “What are you talking about? There’s nothing there.”
Jean moved closer to Amelia trying to get another look at the craft, “Yes there is”, She asserted, “It’s in a dark blue thread on the black part of the crest. I can see a word starting with a ‘P’, I think”.
“You are seeing things. Now, let's get back to today’s activity.” Amelia said quickly moving the project back to her bedroom. Once she got into the drawing room, she closed the door behind her.
“Okay then, what are we doing next then?” Jean wondered.
“Well, I have a newspaper here and I want you to trace over the words using this pencil and then…
Sunday, March 22nd
After the morning mass had finished, Jean went to speak with one of the nicer priests. The head priest, Father Jefferson, was always a bit strange to her and she didn’t feel right talking to him alone.
She walked up to a man cleaning up the altar and waited for him to finish his work. Once he finished, he gestured for her to begin.
Jean asked, “Father Jacob, you can read Latin, right?”
Father Jacob smiled, guiding her to a pew, “Indeed I do my child. Why do you ask?”
Jean replies “I found something in Latin but I couldn’t read it and I want to know what it says.”
Father Jacob leaned forward, “What was the phrase?”
“I don’t know how to pronounce it but I wrote down the letters as best I could.” Jean said while pulling out a scrap of paper with the phrase roughly written down.
“You did very well in copying it down. You only got a few letters wrong. I believe this says ‘E Pluribus Unum’ which translates to ‘Out of many, one’,” Father Jacob stops and thinks for a second before continuing. “I think I heard something about this being used as a motto of the colonies during their foolish rebellion. Where did you see this phrase?”
Jean went white, grabbed the paper back, and muttered,“I think I saw it in an old newspaper”.
Father Jacob gave her a suspicious look.
“Well, it was nice talking to you! I’ll see you next Sunday for mass,” She said, rushing out the door.