by Paige Elwood
“Sounds like fun,” Alice said. The others agreed and followed Sophie to her room where they helped each other change.
Alice’s dress was exactly how Sophie had envisioned it- like a sophisticated version of the dress Belle wore at the end of Beauty and the Beast. Tiers of yellow fabric cascaded from the waist. It fit Alice perfectly, and the color brought some warmth to her complexion and set off her light brown hair, drawing out some of the golden highlights that were not usually noticeable.
Alice was delighted, spinning and laughing. “It’s perfect, thank you!” she said to Sophie. “Armand will love me in this dress.”
Isabeau’s wine-colored dress with gold trim was also beautiful, and Isabeau wound gold ribbons in her dark hair to set it off. The effect was stunning. She looked like a modern-day movie star in a period drama.
Delphine’s violet dress was pretty and made her look fresh and youthful. It fitted her well, accentuating her feminine features in a way that was sophisticated and not immodest.
Alice helped Sophie into her own dress, tying the girdle tightly. Sophie wished, not for the first time this week, that Lycra had been invented already. These tightly laced contraptions were not conducive to breathing or eating.
When she was done, she gave a quick twirl and the girls gasped. “You look like a princess, Sophie!” Delphine squealed.
Isabeau took her to the mirror, and she could hardly believe her eyes. The tailor was a true genius. Like the rest of them, Sophie’s dress fit perfectly. The bodice dipped slightly over the curve of her breasts, making them look slightly fuller and balancing out the full skirt that accentuated her hips, giving her a perfect hourglass figure.
The green was the most amazing deep green of leaves in late summer, and the gold trim on the bodice was perfect. She looked like Maid Marion, she thought. Delphine had said she looked like a princess, and she did feel like one.
She entertained the girls by demonstrating how catwalk models would walk a runway, complete with a pose, pout, and turn at the end. Isabeau was laughing so hard she almost cried at Sophie’s patented ‘duckface’ pout—one that she and Claire had giggled over on many a selfie.
Alice managed to perfect something of a model strut, and Sophie thought that with her elfin features she would make a good catwalk model. Her sisters were traditionally pretty, but Alice had the kind of face that fashion moguls and photographers loved.
They ended up collapsed in a giggling heap on Sophie’s bed, and Isabeau reminded them all that they should take off the dresses to keep them nice for the ball.
Sophie yawned. “I might go to bed now.”
“Are you not having dinner with us?” Isabeau asked.
“I’m still very full after the picnic, I think I’ll give it a miss.”
“Oh, Sophie,” Alice exclaimed. “I almost forgot to say thank you for the chicken, it was delicious.” The other two girls nodded their agreement. “I think Cook was very happy that you showed him the recipe. As are we!”
“You’re welcome, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Sophie said.
“So, your picnic went well today?” Delphine asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Sophie smiled, her heart beating a little faster as she remembered the day. She zoned out for a minute, staring into space and thinking of his hand on hers. She snapped back to reality after a moment, aware that Delphine was still there. “It was very nice,” she added.
“And Edouard, what do you think of him?” Delphine asked.
“Mind your business, Delphine,” Alice said, poking her in the ribs. Delphine glared at her, rubbing her side.
“No, it’s fine,” Sophie said. “I think he’s a lovely man. A perfect gentleman.”
Delphine grinned. “Will you dance with him at the ball?”
“I expect so. I don’t know anyone else to dance with,” she added, blushing at Delphine’s knowing look.
“The other ladies will be so jealous,” Delphine said.
“It’s not like that…” Sophie said weakly. It wasn’t, was it? So why did she wish that it was? Why did he bring out feelings in her that she hadn’t known she was capable of?
The bell for dinner rang, and the girls picked up their dresses to take to their rooms.
“We will tell Maman you are tired and resting,” Isabeau said. “Pleasant dreams,” she added, as she swept out of the door and closed it behind her.
Sophie leaned against the windowsill, gazing out at the outline of Notre Dame in the distance. She kept replaying the afternoon over and over in her mind. It was the perfect date: good company, good food, good conversation. Plus, it had something no other date she’d been on before had - other than a chaperone. There had been something, a connection of sorts with Edouard that she’d never experienced before. Was she crazy? Was it just the effect on her mind of the strange circumstances that she found herself in? Was she just grateful for his help?
No, she thought. The last few days had been the weirdest of her life. Yet the connection she felt to Edouard went beyond him being someone who had stepped in and helped her when she needed it. It was stronger than anything she’d ever felt. The closest thing she had to compare it to was the bond with her twin sister, but even that wasn’t the same.
Was this what love felt like?
She dismissed the notion. They hadn’t even kissed yet. It couldn’t be love, could it?
She watched as the moon rose in the sky, giving the city in the distance that strange, pearlescent glow. It was truly beautiful. Tiredness made her eyelids droop, and she climbed into bed. Despite how weary she was, sleep was a long time coming as she kept replaying parts of the day over and over again in her mind. She kept coming back to the feel of his lips on her hand. She could still feel a tingling where they had brushed against her skin. She shivered at the memory.
Eventually, sleep did claim her, and she dreamed of more picnics with Edouard, laughing and talking by the running stream. This time, they always ended with a kiss; on the lips and not the back of her hand.
Chapter 24
Sophie sprang out of bed the next morning. The early night had done her a world of good and she was excited to attend the ball this evening. Imagine, me at a real ball in a chateau! she thought. I never thought that would happen when I came to Paris.
There was much excited chatter over breakfast that morning as the girls all discussed how they would wear their hair and who else would be at the ball.
“Delphine has her heart set on winning the affections of Pierre Dupois, whose father has a duchy south of Paris,” Isabeau explained. “But Charlotte Deschamps has the same hopes.”
“I’m sure Delphine would be anybody’s first choice.” Sophie smiled at the youngest Petellier girl, whose cheeks were flushed pink with excitement.
“Charlotte’s very pretty, though, and all of her sisters have produced boys in their marriages,” Delphine said.
It hurt Sophie’s feminist sensibilities to hear that someone would marry on the idea that they would get boys as offspring, but she supposed it was the reality of the day. “She can’t possibly be as pretty as you,” she said to Delphine, “and there’s no reason you won’t have male children. It’s determined by the man, you know, whether you have girls or boys.”
Isabeau covered her mouth in shock. “That’s so blasphemous, Sophie. God decides what you have, although if a woman can’t bear children or does not produce males then she is considered… defective.” She glanced at Madame Petellier, “Sorry, Maman,” she said quickly.
“Nonsense, Isabeau,” her mother said. “Your father was as overjoyed with all of you girls as I was. You are a blessing and could not be replaced.”
“Why would you say it is down to the man? Surely if he could choose, he would choose boys?” Alice quizzed Sophie.
“He doesn’t choose.” Sophie wondered how to explain the basic concept of chromosomes to them and decided it was probably too much to handle. “I can’t explain it, and to some extent you’re right—it’s God’s cho
ice.”
The rest of the meal was a little more subdued, and Sophie regretted bringing it up. She missed modern conversations where she could discuss anything from current celebrity scandals to big political issues with Claire and her friends, and she never really had to provide context to those discussions. The world had changed so much, she realized. And yet the same basic things still mattered. Friends, loyalty, love. Really Sophie, love? she thought. This century is turning your brain soft.
The rest of the day dragged on, and Sophie passed the time walking in the gardens and reading in the library. This was exactly the sort of situation that made her miss being able to watch a good movie to kill a little time. There weren’t even any particularly good books in the library. She’d looked for the one with the burgundy cover that Alice had said she wanted to read, but it was nowhere to be seen.
She could barely eat anything at lunch and was already pacing the floor in her room when it came time to get dressed for the ball. When Marta came to assist her, she was a giddy bundle of nerves. The dress was laid out on the bed, and she anxiously pulled it on letting Marta help her with the girdle.
Marta put Sophie’s hair up in another intricate up-do, this time with a headband braid interwoven with gold and green ribbons. It gave the effect of a beautiful headdress, and Sophie felt even more like a princess than when she’d first tried on the dress. The gold and green perfectly matched her ring.
She turned at the sound of the door opening, and Madame Petellier entered with a beautiful pendant in her hands.
“This was Edouard’s mother’s” she said, fastening it around Sophie’s neck. “Edouard’s father gifted it to me when she died, as she had no daughters to leave it to. I think she would have liked you to wear it.”
Sophie looked in the mirror at the pendant around her neck. A golden chain with a beautiful single emerald nestled in the hollow of her throat. It was perfect, just perfect.
“Thank you,” she said, throwing her arms around Madame Petellier, startling the poor woman. “It’s beautiful. I’ll look after it and make sure it’s returned in perfect condition.”
Madame Petellier beamed at her. “It looks beautiful, like you. Edouard is not going to be able to believe his eyes when he sees you!” Sophie blushed at the compliment.
She met the rest of them downstairs, Delphine was buzzing around with excitement, the skirt of her dress swishing with each movement. They traveled to Edouard’s place together, and Sophie hurried along, hoping to see his home clearly before the twilight faded and the world became dark.
“There it is.” Isabeau pointed it out to her. It was incredible, and it made Madame Petellier’s mansion look like a tiny house in comparison. She wondered how many servants it took to run a place as grand as that. She wondered if it was still standing in modern-day France. It would be such a shame for a magnificent building like that to get lost to the ravages of time.
As they approached the enormous iron gates, Sophie saw that there were small fire pits lit all the way to the entrance, creating a corridor of fire and light for the approaching guests. She gasped at the beauty of the dancing flames and could feel a little of the warmth from them on her cheeks as they walked to the door.
Entering the mansion, there were candles everywhere, and Sophie giggled at a sudden image of a Meatloaf video that popped into her head. “I’d Do Anything,” she thought it was. She shook her head, physically trying to move the image. Regardless of the unfortunate music video effect, the whole chateau looked stunning.
She followed Isabeau and the others into a grand hall, where there were even more candles, as well as enormous floral displays that wound around structural pillars and graced almost every available surface. The hall was enormous, and there were already at least a hundred people laughing, talking, and sipping wine from ornate goblets. A collection of musicians was set up in a corner of the room, and they were currently playing some unobtrusive background music.
A servant came around with goblets of wine for them all, and Sophie sipped hers nervously. She hadn’t see Edouard yet. Isabeau and Alice detached themselves from the group to find their fiancées, leaving only Sophie, Delphine, and Madame Petellier standing next to one of the extravagantly decorated pillars.
“There she is,” Delphine leaned in and whispered to Sophie, pointing across the hall at a blonde-haired girl with ruddy cheeks and porcelain skin. She was talking to a tall, handsome boy with dark hair that curled at the nape of his neck. Some other young ladies and gentlemen were with them, chatting and laughing.
“Who?” Sophie asked.
“Charlotte,” Delphine hissed. “With Pierre!” she said, obviously dismayed that the other girl had swooped in first.
Sophie grasped Delphine by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. “You got this,” she said to Delphine, whose brow creased in confusion.
“What do I have?” she asked.
“It means, you can do this, you’re the prettiest girl in this room, hands down. Now, go and get that man!”
Delphine hugged her tightly and then hurried over to where the group of young people were chatting.
A masculine voice in her ear made her jump. “Actually, I beg to differ. I’d say you’re the prettiest girl in this room, hands down.”
She spun to find Edouard behind her, resplendent in a navy velvet tunic with gold detailing around the buttons. “And this is my party, so I must be right.”
Sophie grinned. “You’re such a charmer,” she said, putting her half-empty goblet down on a table beside her.
“I do try,” he responded, holding out his hand. She placed her own in it, and he led her to the dance floor.
She was aware of dozens of pairs of eyes following them across the room. She glanced around nervously. Some watched curiously, while several women looked furious to see her on Eduaord’s arm. Nervously, she sought out a familiar face, and located Delphine, arm in arm with Pierre. She gave Sophie an encouraging smile.
Edouard gestured at the musicians, and they struck up a jaunty tune. At the sound of the music, a few other couples flocked to the dance floor.
Sophie froze. “I don’t really know how to dance,” she said. She was barely able to recall now the very brief lessons that Delphine had given her. Sophie’s initial thoughts that the dances seemed easy now seemed arrogant as she faced the prospect of actually having to do them for real. Especially with so many eyes on them. She was concentrating on Edouard’s face and trying to shut out the stares, but she felt so self-conscious!
“Relax, and follow my lead,” he said, squeezing her hand. She gulped and nodded. Determined to keep her composure, she took a deep breath and stiffened her back. The couples formed a line facing each other, and the dance began.
When Sophie relaxed, she found the dances really were easy to learn and follow. Whenever a little panic struck, she looked into Edouard’s amber eyes and found her self-confidence there. There was something comfortable about being with him, Sophie thought. Like they just… fit together. More and more she was finding herself trying to make him laugh or smile just so she could see it. She enjoyed making him happy. She’d even thought about what else she might cook for him from her time!
As they danced, she saw Delphine dancing with Pierre, and when she caught her eye, both girls grinned from ear to ear. They participated in several group dances; in a circle, in lines, swapping partners, until she was exhausted, sweaty under that huge gown, and thirsty. Edouard led her off the dance floor and got her a fresh goblet of wine that she gulped down. Slow down, she told herself. You don’t want to be the drunk girl at the ball that pukes on someone’s lovely dress.
She fanned herself with her hand. “Are you feeling well?” Edouard asked her, concern coloring his voice.
“Yes, I’m just a little warm after all of that dancing,” she said.
“Would you like to take a walk outside for some air?” he asked.
“Yes, that would be lovely.”
He took her hand
and led her outside, into spectacular gardens that bloomed with spring flowers and stretched out as far as the eyes could see. A million stars twinkled above them, and the air was comfortably cool.
“Have you enjoyed the ball so far?” Edouard asked her.
She nodded emphatically. “I have, it’s the best party I’ve been to, ever.”
He grinned. “That makes me a very happy man.”
“Why does it matter to you? You’re a Duke, it’s not really important if I like your ball or not.”
“But that’s not true,” Edouard said, kissing the back of her hand again. She felt her knees weaken.
He brought his gaze to hers. “What you think matters a great deal to me. More than you know,” he whispered.
She let out a little gasp of surprise. She’d hoped, but she hadn’t been sure.
They were so close that they were almost embracing, but not quite. Sophie’s breath hitched in her throat. “I care a great deal what you think, too,” she admitted. “In fact, I just care a great deal about you.” She could hardly believe she was saying this. What if he rejected her again? She had to take this chance, though. The wine had made her brave, and a walk in the moonlight had brought out the romantic in her. Now seemed like the right time.
“And I care a great deal about you,” he whispered, his eyes locked onto hers. The music from the hall drifted out to them, and Edouard placed one of her hands on his shoulder, the other on his waist. Before she could protest, they were dancing in the gardens.
He whirled her around under the stars, and somehow, it was perfect. She moved her feet at just the right time, and despite having never been much of a dancer, with Edouard it just…worked. She felt like she was floating off the ground as they whirled.
The music stopped, and they came to a slow stop too. The hand that had been resting demurely on her waist came up and stroked her cheek. Sophie closed her eyes.
“I don’t understand this incredible connection that we have. I just know that everything feels so right,” she whispered.
