She closed her eyes and begged for sleep.
Chapter Eight
The cloud was not as fluffy or comfortable as before. Joy dripped from Louise’s heart like the last bit of water in an empty pitcher. As she gazed over the edge, it began to rain on the green islands and the blue mirror. No birds sang. In fact, there were none to be seen. The only sound came from the splash of each raindrop as it hit the landscape below.
She rolled onto her back to find the stars had dimmed. In place of the dramatic light show she had previously enjoyed, now only a handful of blinking lights hummed a sad, vibrating dirge. The weariness of the scene merely added to her own melancholy. With a sigh, she rolled back over again.
The sight below had not improved. Air darkened, signaling a storm brewed ahead. Lightning pierced the sky and a sudden crash of thunder made her tremble. She was afraid, and she did not know why. Storms had never frightened her. This one, though, she already knew was different. She had nowhere to hide, knew of no way to get down.
Louise was at the mercy of whoever controlled the cloud.
The familiar whoosh of wings sounded as the mysterious rider appeared flying towards her. She could hear him calling out to her. She reached out toward his outstretched hand.
At the same moment, he began to raise his visor. She realized she did not know the identity of the rider. Was he someone she could trust? Would he save her from the danger or just make matters worse?
Louise withdrew her hand. She inched away from the edge. The rider still drew closer. He continued to call her name.
She backed up more.
He continued to come towards her, pleading for her to take his hand.
Louise retreated further still, falling backward over the edge.
At first, she floated. But as the rain pelted her, she became too heavy. The ground rushed up to greet her. She braced for impact.
Louise awoke with a gasp. She bolted upright. Her hair stuck to her sweaty face. Her chemise molded to her flesh, her heart raced as if she had run a marathon, and her body trembled uncontrollably.
Oh, God, I feel so alone. I just want to go home. Please let me go home. Louise sobbed and fell back. She wrapped her arms about her pillow, hugging it close while tears streamed down her face. “I want to go home, please.”
Louise lay like that for what seemed hours. Time slipped away, and the shadows in her room deepened. She had no desire to get up and change. There was nothing to look forward to—it was all just a part of Antoine’s job.
Now, without intent, it was possible she had given herself a reputation. The type of which was only whispered about in her circle of friends and to be avoided at all costs. Of course, the one person she hoped would not believe it might not even care one way or another, since she was only an assignment to him. Would it change the way he acted around her? Would he look at her differently? What would she see in his eyes the next time they met?
There was a knock at the door, and Tante Marie charged in. “Dear heart, you have not even begun to get ready? See, Didi, I told you she was in here. Why in the world did you not answer Didi’s knock and come to me? Are you ill?” Tante Marie strode to the bed and placed her hand on Louise’s forehead. “You do not feel warm. What time is Antoine coming for you?”
“He said seven, but I am not feeling very well. I do not think I will go tonight.” Louise pulled her covers up higher.
“Where is Mimi?”
Louise caught Didi’s worried gaze.
“I sent her out. I told her I wanted to be alone.” Louise lied smoothly. The thought of Mimi had jarred some caring back into her. It would not be fair to punish the young woman because of her own problems.
Tante Marie’s hands planted on her hips. “Then what seems to be the problem, child? You have never been ill a day in all the time I have known you.”
“It is nothing. I would just prefer to stay here tonight by myself.” The melancholy still weighed heavy in her heart.
The older woman sat on the bed beside Louise and put a comforting arm around her. “Come here, child.”
Louise fell into her embrace. The sobbing began anew.
When the tears subsided, Tante Marie wiped them from Louise’s eyes. “Now, tell me what dire thing has happened.”
Louise described the wonderful morning, and how she had enjoyed herself. Then she shared about the summons to the chambers of the Marquise de Montespan and the horrific conversation. In the end, she confided her fears about her reputation and the fact that Antoine was only doing his job.
“My, my, you have had quite a day, have you not?” No judgment tainted her aunt’s words. “I am so sorry for the rudeness of the Marquise. There was no reason for her outburst. I do not know at all what His Majesty sees in her, although I can imagine.
“I know poor Louise-Françoise—the duchess she referred to—and I must say, Louise-Françoise may be empty headed, but she is sweet and loves His Majesty with her whole heart. She never has put designs on him to be his next queen, being satisfied with his attention. No one can say that about the Marquise. Her manipulations are well known. It would be a good idea to steer clear of her in the future, if possible.”
“I agree.” Louise rested with her head on her aunt’s shoulder. “I should not have any problem doing that if I stay here tonight.”
“Ah, but my dear one, you must not do that. I know that staying here feels like the better solution, but sadly you are the guest of the king and have been invited specifically. If you do not show, he will want to know why. You were right to think that illness might be a good excuse—outside of death, perhaps the best. However, my darling, if His Majesty thinks you are sick, he will send his surgeon to come and check on you. You could probably use a good bloodletting to rid you of your extra melancholy and put your humors back into balance. However, I would not recommend it.”
“What? He would not.” Louise sat up straight. One look at the face of her aunt told her. “He would. Oh, now what am I to do? It must be almost seven, and I do not want to face Antoine. What should I do, Tante Marie?”
“Do not worry, dear heart.” Marie patted her hand and whisked back the bedclothes. “Didi and I will help you. You should not have sent Mimi away, but never mind that now. We will get you ready.”
Marie turned into a whirlwind of efficiency, ordering Didi what items to find. She put Louise to washing her face and body, while she chose from the closet of new gowns. Pulling out an aquamarine silk with a shirred bodice studded with small, white seed pearls and a deeply scooped, off-the-shoulder neckline, she held it up and pronounced it perfect. The overskirt was of fine Venetian lace while the underskirt shone of a darker version of the original hue. The sleeves were trimmed with matching lace cuffs. Tossing the dress on the bed, she looked through the white velvet bags Didi had laid out as per instruction. She found a matching pair of combs, earrings and necklace, each studded with aquamarines, and set them out on the vanity along with a length of aquamarine ribbon.
Louise changed her chemise, and Didi helped her to slip into the dress.
“Come sit. Let Didi arrange your hair.” Marie nearly pushed Louise down at the vanity seat, and Didi began to brush through her tangles. Although the strokes were gentle, Louise had already given herself a nagging headache with all her crying. Every movement of the brush heightened the pain. She bit her lip. Yet the thought of the surgeon gave her the stamina she needed to go through the ordeal.
Tante Marie’s fashion ideas were far less conservative than Louise’s. “Didi, I saw a woman in Paris with her hair piled high in curls and ringlets at the side. That is how Louise should wear her hair tonight. Make the curls on top pile very high. And use the combs to hold it.”
Louise closed her eyes tight, fighting an urge to yank the brush from the maid’s hand. It would have hurt much less just to pull each strand out from the root.
“Ah, that is exactly what I described. The highest fashion. Monsieur LeBrun would be thrilled to put you on canvas, dear
heart.”
Louise peeked with one eye at the mirror. The view jolted both eyes wide open. “Is that . . . me?” A very fashionable stranger with bright eyes and rosy cheeks stared back.
“Oui, of course it is you.” Tante Marie turned her away from the mirror to look directly at her. “Any duty-loving escort who can resist you tonight is beyond the hope of even the Almighty. Antoine will not be focused on his job but on you, my dear—trust me. He would gladly pay to be the one to escort you to appartement tonight.”
“Oh, Tante Marie, I am not out to work my wiles on him.” Louise pulled up the lace of her chemise. “I just want to know he likes spending time with me because of who I am and not because it is his obligation to the king.”
“Dear heart, I believe that is the case.” Her aunt placed a mouche to Louise’s upper left cheek.
The paste holding the small silk dot in place felt strange. Then so did her hair and reflection.
“Do not be concerned about his reasons at this time. Enjoy yourself, and let things happen as they will. Are we agreed?”
Louise nodded.
Tante Marie applied pearl powder to Louise’s cleavage and then her own ample one. “And you will stay away from the Marquise—I know, I know, it is a small private gathering, but do your best.” She picked up a small vial of perfume and touched the applicator to Louise’s wrists, throat, and between her breasts.
“Oui, I will.” Louise tugged up the lace of her chemise even more.
The knock at the door came the next instant, right at seven o’clock. The women looked at each other. Louise took a breath and nodded her head slightly. It felt top-heavy, and she was not yet used to the feeling.
Didi opened the door. Antoine stood there in elegant splendor—his justaucorps was midnight blue with white satin trims and red lining. The sword hilt, sticking out from his embroidered baldric gleamed, and his plumed hat lay neatly tucked under his left arm. He presented Louise with a nosegay of wildflowers. Louise noticed his own wavy black hair fell to his shoulders. He wore no wig. Was it possible he had grown even more handsome?
* * *
Louise looked more stunning than imaginable. Antoine could have stared at her all evening had not Madame du Sine taken things into her own hands.
“We need to be going now. His Majesty will be wondering what has become of us.” The older woman gave him a pointed look.
“Oh, oui.” Antoine came to his senses. “Please allow me.” He opened the door for the ladies and held it while they walked into the corridor. “Shall we?” He offered each lady an arm. Louise’s gentle touch at his elbow sent a vibration through his soul. The heady fragrance of her perfume, something floral but spicy, made concentration difficult. Their time today had already become a favorite memory to be viewed over and over in his mind. He had discovered a treasure. The thought that she would be leaving Versailles in less that two weeks was one he shoved with determination to the back of his mind.
He wanted to know this woman. And not because she was any kind of assignment.
What if she really were a Huguenot spy? Could he turn her in?
Antoine did not know what he would do.
Closing his mind to the possibility, he shoved that thought away too. Why dwell on the problem since it most likely would never present itself?
* * *
Louise was grateful to her aunt for keeping the banter light. As they ambled arm in arm to the Royal Suite, she recalled the look in Antoine’s eyes when Didi opened the door. Could she trust it? He seemed sincere about wanting to be with her. The possibility of finding out he was merely a good actor left her nervous, jittery, silent. If she could just be out in the glade alone with Antoine. There she could be herself, away from judging eyes and inhibitions. A lump formed in her throat, and the sting of forming tears scared her. An involuntary sniff escaped her.
Antoine paused.
“Foin! Are you crying, Mademoiselle?” His concern appeared genuine.
“It is nothing, I am sure. I am right, am I not, dear one?” Tante pointedly caught her gaze.
“Excuse me, Madame, but I think it must be something.” Antoine shook off her aunt and turned back to Louise. He enveloped her hand. “Mademoiselle, I am correct, n'est-ce pas? Please, Mademoiselle, I thought we had become friends. Can you not trust me with what is bothering you?”
“I will go on in and let you two talk.” Marie patted Louise’s cheek. “I will be inside should you need me. For anything.” She looked straight at Antoine before turning on her heel and walking into the Royal Suite.
“I am sorry, Monsieur—”
“Antoine.”
“Antoine.” Louise smiled briefly. “My afternoon after you left has been quite trying. I am fighting a small headache.”
“What happened this afternoon?” He held her hand, his voice filled with genuine compassion.
“I had a conversation with someone who--” Louise focused on the floor. She could not meet his gaze and explain this. “Someone who seemed to think I had intentions other than the ones I actually have.”
He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb sending shivers up her spine. “You are being evasive. I do not know if it is due to what was said or who said it. I am not looking for gossip and do not want to pry. I had thought that after today, though, we were better friends than this.”
“Are we?” Louise searched his face for truth.
“What do you mean?”
“Mon— Antoine, we met only yesterday. I know I am assigned to you while I am here. It would be nice to think we are true friends, but I would not presume to take liberty where your duty was concerned.”
“Mademoiselle,” He wiped away a tear and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Louise, look into my eyes. Believe me when I say this: You are the most remarkable woman I have ever met. I consider it a privilege to be your escort and hope our friendship will be a very, very long one.”
When he spoke her name, it might as well have been angels whispering. Magical music sang in her ears, and her eyes knew the truth of his words.
“I believe you.” She took a deep breath. “Oui, I trust you. I will tell you all about my difficult afternoon, but not here. On the morrow, when we go back to our glade, I will tell you all about it.”
He nodded and handed her his lace-trimmed handkerchief. “So, we are friends again, correct?”
“Did we ever stop being friends?” She gave him what she hoped was a smile of friendship.
“Ah, that’s the lovely Louise I have grown so fond of.” He laughed. “Are we ready?” He presented his arm.
“We are.” She placed her hand in the crook of his arm and walked with him into the Royal Suite.
* * *
Antoine leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Messieurs Lully and Quinault have composed a new opera. The soloist will be performing an aria from Act One.” He guided Louise toward their seats. “Seating is arranged so that the invited are placed with care according to rank. It avoids problems.” He read the question in her eyes. “It would not have been the first time a legal issue came about over where someone chose to sit.”
“Surely you are making fun. Can people be that petty?”
Antoine shook his head. How much she had yet to learn about court life. He hoped her innocence and candor would not be destroyed before it came time for her to leave.
An ache nudged his heart.
Louise waved to her aunt as they found their seats, smiling sweetly. Madame du Sine looked relieved and smiled back.
They had been given chairs with arms, generally held for the nobility. They sat, and Antoine took her hand.
She did not pull away.
Now that he had her trust, did he deserve it?
* * *
Louise’s gaze followed the singer from the time he entered the room. He came to the front, signaling everyone to their seats. As the room quieted, Monsieur Lully introduced the vocalist, and then moved to the side where he could conduct the string quartet.
The music transported Louise back to a time of ancient gods and goddesses in long ago Egypt. Closing her eyes, she could visualize the passion of the piece from the opera Isis. The melody’s spell entranced her.
At the final note, she leaned to Antoine. “Oh, I do not want it to end.”
“Neither do I.”
She caught his intense gaze and fanned her face.
People stood, giving an ovation. She stood and joined in the applause.
Monsieur Lully came to the front again. He bowed. “Your Majesty and honored guests. I thank you for your enthusiastic reception.” Another bow, and he returned to his musicians.
“You do know this is only a small part of a full opera.” Antoine’s breath tickled her neck. She nodded.
“Next week they will present the full production.”
Excitement charged through her. “Next week? Are you sure? I will still be at Court. I will be able to attend, or at least I hope I may attend. I cannot imagine any reason why I should not be allowed to but—”
She stopped. Again, with the blathering. Antoine must think her an idiot.
But no, his eyes twinkled, and his laugh came gently. “I believe I can arrange it. Just possibly.”
She laughed with him. “Bon.”
Just the same, it seemed if she counted on something, something else came along to spoil her plans.
However, the opera would be next week. For tonight, she must to get through the game period before dinner without having to face the Marquise again.
Antoine guided her out of the way while servants rearranged the room for appartement. Servants arranged whist and trictrac tables and moved into place a billiards table.
It was well known that His Majesty favored the card games. So did many others, for they could sit while they played as well as spend time with the king. Her Majesty was not fond of gambling and merely watched.
Antoine led Louise around the tables so she could observe.
The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection Page 7
