by Ted Bader
His hostess replied, “Why should you fear?”
With a smile, he sighed, “Ah, the theft of my heart, the assassination of my liberty,” he then looked at Laura, “I can see eyes, or very wicked eyes, capable of the cruelest assault upon my freedom.”
Sarah saw her sister amazed at such forward language so early in the meeting. Even Madame Duval was at an unusual loss of words for a few moments. She finally recovered and playfully replied, “My lord possesses a lively temper and wit!”
Laura said sweetly, “You need not be afraid. Our eyes are guiltless of any evil purpose.”
Madame Duval then intervened, “My lord, would you care for some tea?”
“Indeed.”
Sarah went to fill his tea cup. With a close view, she felt uncomfortable. She realized a feeling that had been growing since the aristocrat’s arrival: this gentleman was either without honor or not the man he purported to be. She could not decide why she felt this way. Perhaps he was not dandy enough or he did not act consistent with his rank. But what did she know? How many high lords had she met?
The Marquis continued, “Well now, ladies, what do you think of Paris?”
“It is as exquisite a city as we expected,” Laura replied. Then, with a slight pout, she continued, “but we have no one to show us around.”
Madame Duval raised her eyebrows while the Marquis said, “If you ladies would allow me the honor, I should be delighted to introduce you to the finest of circles. All of the wits of Paris call on me. . . .” Focusing on Laura, he continued, “What would you like to see first?”
“I delight in portraits.”
“Portraits are difficult, and demand a depth of mind. . . ,” pausing for a moment, the gentleman continued, “you shall see some of mine which will not displease you, I think.” He then turned to Sarah and asked, “What should you like to see or hear?”
Sarah stammered briefly and then said, “I am fond of riddles.”
“Ah, that taxes one’s ingenuity. I made as many as four of them this morning, which I will give you to guess.”
Laura then said, “My sister is modest. She has published her first poem.”
“Ah, poetry is it? I must recite to you an extempore I composed yesterday when on a visit to the Duchess.”
“You must give it to us,” Madame Duval requested.
“Listen carefully,” the Marquis invited.
Oh, oh! My mind was at ease,
And its own thoughts pursued:
When, with no thought of harm,
your fair visage I viewed,
Oh, eye, that by stealth
hath encompassed my grief,
My heart thou didst ravish!
Oh, fie on thee, thief!
After her, after her, after her, thief!
“How gallant,” Laura exclaimed.
“Everything I write, you see, strikes a dashing note. I take care to avoid the pedantic.”
“How exquisite,” the adoring Laura continued.
“Did you notice the beginning? Oh, Oh!? Uncommon is it not? Surprise. Oh, Oh!”
“Yes. I find Oh, Oh! Admirable.”
“A mere trifle!”
Laura turned to Sarah, “What think you of our poet?”
She hesitated and then replied, “It rhymes well.”
“Indeed, it does,” her older sister rejoined and turning back to the Marquis continued, “You have such good taste.”
“I flatter myself it is not entirely undiscriminating.”
A servant entered and said, “Madame, the coachmen for the Marquis have arrived.
The Marquis stood and bowed, “With painful purpose, I must sever myself from this delightful company. I shall return tomorrow and take you all to the Louvre.”
The women rose and curtseyed. After the gentleman left, Madame Duval broke the silence by asking aloud, “What think you of our Lord?”
Laura enthusiastically replied, “How gallant. I eagerly await his return. He missed the chance to view me outside in the sunlight,” she gently played with a tendril of hair that framed her face and continued, “but perhaps we shall have a sunny day tomorrow.” Turning to Sarah she asked, “Sister, what have you to say?”
After a moment, Sarah slowly answered, “He seems vain and conceited.”
Maria piped, “A lord of such rank has a right to be vain and conceited.”
“Pooh. Pooh, sister. You are bound to dislike anything I care for.” The young ladies then turned to look at their hostess.
The normally ebullient woman thoughtfully said, “The gentleman certainly warrants further inspection. I hope my inquiry about him is answered soon.”
The servant re-entered and announced, “A French officer, Ma’am.”
“Well, show him in,” replied the hostess.
In uniform, Captain Wiley stepped smartly into the room and bowed.
Looking directly at Laura, he said, “I have come to pay my visit from yesterday’s ball. Never have I enjoyed such beauty and grace in such a picturesque setting.”
“Thank you,” was Laura’s limp reply.
“Please sit down,” encouraged Madame Duval.
“I am unacquainted with the gentleman who preceded me. Who is he?”
Laura, in a superior tone, replied, “The Marquis de Mascarille was kind enough to call on us.”
“You don’t say. I am not acquainted with the man.”
“I suppose he is far superior to your circle of friends. . .”
Madame Duval interrupted Laura and said, “We are honored by your visit. It is not often such gallant men are in my parlor.”
The captain smiled, “Au contraire, Madame, it is my pleasure to be allowed to visit such lovely ladies.”
Sarah then volunteered, “I suppose we are prejudiced in favor of our cousin, but we congratulate you on your championship match with him.”
“Thank you, Mademoiselle,” he replied. “I am hopeful it will, how do you say, turn out differently next time.”
“I doubt it,” Laura said coldly.
The room was uncomfortably quiet for a minute as Sarah observed a pained expression on the officer’s face. Captain Wiley stood, bowed towards Madame Duval and said, “Thank you, Madam, for allowing me to pay my respects. Bon jour.”
As he left, the room fell silent. Sarah was at a loss for words. Her sister had appeared alternately hot and cold to two very different gentlemen.
Laura rose and walked to the window. Madame Duval then inquired, “Far be it from me to pry into your thoughts; but, Laura, I am wondering at your reception of Captain Wiley?”
“I have lost interest in him. . . He was a pleasant diversion at the ball, but with a Marquis as even a remote possibility. . . I do not wish to scare the aristocrat away; besides, Captain Wiley is just a junior officer.”
“Where do you think senior officers spring from?” Madame Duval rejoined.
“Yes, of course, you are right,” Laura glared at Sarah and continued, “Do not look at me like that, Sarah. Indeed, if I wish to fix the attention of an aristocrat, I shall do so.”
Sarah replied, “I dare say as a man of the world, he will not be oblivious to your attempt. His character seems so, well, superficial.”
“I cannot wait until the Marquis returns tomorrow,” Laura said, looking at Madame Duval.
Leaning over to Maria, Madame Duval whispered, “This will be fun to observe,” and then she said outloud as she stood, “Yes, yes, of course you must return to my home and stay the whole day.”
“Excellent. You are so kind to us.” Laura replied.
Chapter Seven
Sarah sensed an unusual atmosphere in the embassy residence during the evening meal. Edgar and Anna were enjoying the opportunity of dining with the adults. While Anna’s eyes flitted from person to person, Edgar’s eyes rarely left John.
Sir Thomas spoke, “John, the congratulations are still pouring in for your fencing victory.”
“Thank you, Sir Thomas. I hear, however, that I
am not the only one to be congratulated.”
“Oh?” his uncle queried as John chuckled and Andrew exhibited difficulty keeping his face straight.
The young men turned to pointedly look at Laura as John said, “We hear you have an aristocratic admirer.”
Laura, at first, gaped with a slight blush and then stiffened to look superior. “Yes, it is true. The Marquis de Mascarille visited Madame Duval’s today.”
“I was told you would ‘steal his heart and assassinate his liberty’. . . ” John began chuckling again.
Glaring at Sarah, Laura said, “I wish my sister would not expose everything we do.”
“It was not my doing,” replied Sarah in a determined manner.
“Indeed. We heard it from other sources,” a smiling Andrew replied.
“Don’t look at me,” Maria volunteered.
“So, you think me an adventuress, one who has no business with a Marquis?” Laura said indignantly.
“Beware of your virtue,” John replied, “this fellow has a reputation of, what shall I say. . . breaking many feminine hearts.”
“You need not worry about my virtue.”
“Well, do not believe this fellow too much,” John said.
“I implicitly trust someone of his rank, especially when he was recommended to me by you, my dear cousin.”
John looked directly at her. “We did not recommend him. We simply said that if you wanted someone of high rank to call upon you, we could arrange the first visit. As I said, do not place too much confidence in him.”
Conversation around the table ceased and all went back to quietly finishing their meal. A tired looking Anna leaned her head against the side of her mother, Georgiana.
Sarah asked, “Did Anna have another spell today? I should feel remiss if she did and I was not here.”
Georgiana put her arm around Anna and said, “No, but I am afraid she has a headache and does not feel much like eating.”
Andrew said, “I am sorry if we have been too boisterous for her.”
“No. She enjoys the presence of her cousins.”
Sarah came around the table to take Anna’s hand and signaled to Edgar that he too should excuse himself. Edgar eagerly turned to his father and asked, “Father, may I have permission to join the men after dinner? I want to hear more about the fencing contest.”
Sir Thomas nodded permission. “I believe your cousins will enjoy having such an attentive audience.”
As Sarah led Anna upstairs, the young girl asked, “Will you read to me before bedtime?”
“Which fairy tale will it be tonight?”
“How about the lion and the princess?”
Smiling, she said, “That is just the story I was hoping you would ask for.”
Meanwhile, Laura and Maria joined Lady Staley in the adjoining room as Maria excitedly described the Marquis’ visit. Georgiana raised her eyebrows and then furrowed them during Maria’s story. “I think I should be very careful, if I were you, Laura.”
Laura’s face was quizzical. “Aunt Caroline taught me that people of high rank are inherently better than others. . . even if they have a few flaws, we should overlook those because their other ingrained qualities will compensate for them.”
Georgiana continued with even more concern, “A gentleman’s rank tells you nothing of his character.” Softening her voice she said, “As you probably know, I was once mildly attracted to a duke who proposed to me. I decided against him. . . .”
“A Duke,” Laura gasped. “I never heard about this. How could you refuse a Duke?”
“Didn’t the Duke give you the Gainsborough painting?” Maria asked.
“Yes, he did.”
“That explains why you didn’t keep it to hang in your own home,” Maria mused. “I always liked the painting but not the man who gave it to you.”
“Even my little dog didn’t like him,” Georgiana said. “That should have told me much about his character.”
“But a Duke,” Laura exclaimed, “and someone who was obviously quite generous with his wealth. . . how could you. . . ?”
Lady Staley held up her hand to silence the ambitious young woman, “I had an uneasiness about him. . . there were many little things about his character that warned me he would not be a good choice for marriage.”
“Surely you could have overlooked a few little imperfections.”
“No. A woman should not have to spend her married life trying to pretend she doesn’t recognize her husband’s flaws. . . indeed, it is important to marry a man you can both respect and love.” Georgiana looked at Laura and said sincerely, “Thank goodness my negative feelings continued. . . later the Duke’s libertine behavior proved my decision was the correct one.”
Laura straightened a bit in her seat and asked a bit haughtily, “So, you have let this one bad experience color your view of the aristocracy?”
“Of course not,” Lady Staley said. “I have met some men who have both rank and integrity. I am just saying you need to be careful with your feelings. . . do not judge the man solely on his position in society. Try to find out what he is like as a person.”
“That is the whole point of our meeting at Madame Duval’s. . . it gives me an opportunity to get acquainted with him.”
“Use the time well. And, remember, most anyone can put up a good front for an hour or two.” Relaxing her pose, Georgiana said, “Enough of lecturing. Why don’t you two girls tell me what you like about the Marquis?”
“He is the highest ranking. . .,” Laura began and then stopped.
Maria said helpfully, “He talked of artwork.”
Laura beamed, “And he likes poetry. He even quoted a poem he wrote.”
Both girls fell silent. Georgiana said gently, “I was not aware that you were particularly fond of poetry.”
“I am not overly fond of reading prose or poetry, but I do not mind hearing an occasional poem quoted or read,” Laura replied. “Aunt Caroline says that only refined gentlemen can truly appreciate the arts.”
“What did Sarah think of the poem the gentleman composed?” Georgiana asked.
“Sarah said it rhymed well,” Maria said.
“What other traits does the Marquis possess which appeal to you?”
Laura thought for a moment and then said, “We really did not have much time to converse; but, he is such a fine gentleman. . . any one who meets him would hold him in high esteem. He has offered to introduce us to his social circle.”
“We are meeting him again tomorrow,” Maria added.
“Perhaps that will give you opportunity to learn more of his character,” Georgiana said. “I have found one can tell a lot about a man by the way he treats his servants and those beneath his station.”
“We are beneath his station and he treated us with great charm.”
“Would any gentleman do otherwise with three lovely young ladies?” Georgiana rose and said, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I would like to check on Anna before she goes to sleep.” On her way out of the room, she patted Laura’s shoulder, “Just be careful, my dear. I should not like you to be hurt.”
Chapter Eight
“I cannot wait for the visit of the Marquis,” Laura said as Sarah, Maria and Madame Duval were again seated in the latter’s parlor, preparing their tea.
Madame Duval said, “I still have not heard any response to my inquiries about him. However, it seems Laura that you are interested in his attentions, whatever his character may be.”
“Of course, why should I not? It is only a dream to marry a Marquis; however, a girl can always make a wish.”
“Well, if you wish to fix his attention, I suggest you engage in coquetry. You must not seem interested in his advances. After your initial interest yesterday, this will serve to inflame his passion.”
“Coquetry is an art form known best to the ladies of France. I certainly would like to try my hand at it.”
Laura stood and went to stand in front of the mantel. “You have some lovely ha
ndfans mounted here. Tell us about them.”
Madame Duval rose and pointed to the first one, which was black.”I do not know how much of the eventail or fan culture ladies of England use, but French ladies have fans for every status. The one you are pointing to is one for mourning. If you look closely, there is a funeral scene in the picture.”
“Oh,” Laura said and pointed quickly to the next one, “What is this one?”
“This means the fan carrier is expecting a child, as you can tell by the babies pictured on it.”
By this time, Maria and Sarah were standing behind Madame Duval and Laura. Maria said excitedly, “Madame. Tell us about the language of the fan. Do the movements mean the same as in England?”
“I have not been to England, so I do not know if there are differences” She picked up four hand fans and gave one to each young woman as they backed up to form a circle.
“If you let the fan rest on the right cheek it means ‘yes’.”
Maria said, “So, resting on the left cheek means ‘no’.”
“Yes, of course,” their hostess replied.
Laura asked, “Please show me the position that says, “I want to know you better.”
The young women laughed as Madame Duval used her left hand to hold the fan coquetishly in front of her face. She then continued, “Whatever you do girls, don’t place the half-open fan to your lips.”
“Why?” asked Maria innocently as Laura and Sarah tried to smother their mirth.
“Maria, my dear, that position means ‘kiss me’.”
Maria’s face colored.
At that moment, a servant entered. “The Marquis de Mascarille has arrived.”
“Wait a moment,” their hostess said, “we need to put these fans away. . . there, now you may show him in.”
Laura whispered to the others, “I am glad we do not need fans today. . . I am not ready. My fan might say the wrong thing.”
As the Marquis bowed and entered the room he said, “Ah, the most enchanting women in France.”
