Three's Charm(Messed Up Minds)

Prologue

France 1783, Somewhere in the countryside.

The leaves of the oak tree wavered slightly from the wind, the voices in the little cottage overpowering that of the wind as it tried to cheer them up with its mournful song. A child sat outside on the doorstep, having vacated the house so she could not hear, but ended up hearing anyway. There was nothing she could do. The land owned by her family was miniscule. A few steps and she would have been in the garden, then a further step and she was in the fields. She had been told to not wander into the gardens, so she sat on the doorstep and waited, then waited some. Her parents' argument was clear and loud. She was fifteen, old enough to comprehend all that was said.

"That's your problem Philippe! You are a coward. For years--Years!-- you have been cooped up in that monstrosity you call a garden, harvesting the least possible amount of crops. We starve, half the time we are starving, and you do not do anything about it." Mary said standing at the stove and wiping it aggressively, barely avoiding the still hot plates.

"Leave me alone Mary, it's way too early for this, I'm tired. I have to harvest the peas today." Philippe's resigned voice said and Mary's bitter laugh accompanied it. She stomped to the kitchen table her husband was seated at, nursing a cup of coffee.

"The one gallon that is supposed to last us a year? What about the taxes? We can't evade the taxes Phil, you know what they did to the Mannings last year. Their son, their only son was hanged, like a coat! So tell me, how will that stupid gallon pay the taxes Steve? How?" She said, her slightly bigger form standing in front of him, her forehead sweaty, tendrils of her red hair sticking to her forehead. Her blue eyes narrowed at him.

"Mary, this gallon has paid the taxes for years now, and year after year you say the same thing. You don't even try to help around. All you do is complain and complain. Time and again."

"I have good reason to damn it! Evie got a new gown last week, I am still stuck in this old fashioned, out of style sack cloth." Mary huffed. Philippe sighed, leaning back into the chairs, his arm on his forehead.

"I bought you this gown last year Mary," he said patiently and Mary let out another bitter laugh.

"Last year? Last year?! Why, Evie has gotten ten beautiful gowns since then. Ten! What do you have to say about that Phil?"

"That you should stop hanging around the wrong crowd Mary. Evie is nobility, her husband doesn't pay the taxes as we do. If you want a new, nice fashionable gown, then you need to put in some work."

"Some work! Isn't it already terrible that I have to miss some of the ladies' tea parties because some of my shawls and gowns need mending?"
Philippe let out a sound between a grunt and a groan.

"Mama was right, you are self centered Mary. You can't think of anything or anyone else but yourself." He said, as if the realisation had just hit him.

"And papa was right! You are too much of a church mouse, and too used to the crumbs to dream of anything else. You are poor and will remain so Phillip!" Mary said and her husband chuckled bitterly.

"I've heard all that before Mary, you sound like a broken record."

"I hate you! I am going to papa, I need to cool down and maybe I'll ask for some money from him and head into town to get some dresses tomorrow. Have fun Philippe, and oh, there isn't any food in this house."
She grabbed an already packed bag and darted around the scattered furniture and halted at the door.

"What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go away you idiot!" She snarled at the girl. The emancipated girl pointed a finger towards the nearby garden.