The smell - the earthy notes of wood, soil, dust; the touch- a fragile delicate almost transparent, the feeling- overwhelming, almost intoxicating, it runs through your blood and poisons your entire body, you want to stop but you can't. Your eyes are in tears your heartbeat is racing, you cannot believe it! You cannot believe that after so long you have an object between your hands that connects you with a world long forgotten, a world of integrity, utter curiosity, romance, mystery and innocence. The thought that two centuries ago another Mademoiselle was holding that same book between her delicate fingers, and her eyes were sparkling while reading, put you in a state of dream almost surreal. A hidden treasure, found on an ordinary day , on one ordinary street in one ordinary bookshop. Everyone and everything around you continues to go on at its ordinary "Formula 1" speed, while for you, the time has stopped, and fiercely is turning the clock handle backwards until you reach the year 1851. A year when one of the brightest women of English literature, Julia Kavaugh, was giving birth to one of her chefs d'oeuvres, Natalie. A year , when the last Child of France, who survived the Terror, Marie Therese of France aka Madame Royal, will close her eyes for one last time. A time when that very Mademoiselle who was reading that book full of pure emotions will be sitting in her wooden chair by her window and the sunlight playing in her hair, would wipe her tears with a fresh white laced handkerchief, with a touch of lavender. A small book hidden in the darkest corner of that little bookshop, almost invisible for the untrained eye. But you, you found it! It is between your hands, your fingers caressing its soft leather covers, the engraved letters , you close your eyes and take a deep breath of the robust pages....and then you feel a presence behind you, so close you can feel his breath, you can smell his lavender perfume, you can feel his hand on your waist... you turn, there is noone, just the feeling of a long lost love, separated by the time...
