He began making his way to the door, his features contemplative, before stopping to look at me again. “You are a marvel to have around, Samantha.”
“Thank you?”
He left then, Lomas following quickly behind, and Tristan and I breathed a breath of relief at the same time.
“I didn’t know ye knew so much about lost treasures, lass,” he remarked, teasing. “Are there any others ye’re going to want to search out after this?”
Laughing, I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly. I hadn’t realized it until just then, but I’d been so incredibly nervous for this meeting and discussion. It seemed like luck that I had managed to be helpful at all.
“Let’s find this one first.” Falling silent, the memory of my hometown filled my mind. How different would it be now? There would be no budding metropolis, no manmade lakes, and definitely no air conditioning. Would the mountains look the same? Could I lead an entire group of men into a desert when I knew very well how dangerous it would be?
“What are ye thinking?” Tristan’s voice was soft and calming, and I suddenly realized I’d been digging my fingers into his back as I held him.
“Arizona will be dangerous,” I replied quietly, relaxing my grip. “The Apache Indians earned a very fierce and bloodthirsty reputation defending their lives and homes.” It made my stomach drop just thinking about the warriors we could possibly encounter on the journey. “Besides that, the desert will be hard to handle.”
“It is a desert, Sam.” He chuckled. “I don’t think anyone expects it to be easy.
“It’s not just that,” I said, exasperated suddenly. “The heat is one thing—one thing we should prepare for very, very carefully—but there are several other things we need to watch for. Dehydration—for example—how are we going to carry enough water for everyone with us? We’ll need more than usual. And what if we run into rattlesnakes? I’m sure we will. They’re all over the place there. If someone gets bitten, there won’t be anything we can do to help. They’ll be dead before we even have the chance to think of what to do. Wild boars could gouge someone to death. Even a spider bite could kill a man in a few days.”
“I think the better question is why would anyone want to settle down there in the first place?” He laughed some, but I could hear the truth of the question in his tone.
Pulling away, I smiled at him tightly. “Gold. They wanted the gold. The mine I told you about isn’t the only source by a long shot. There’s lots of minerals there. Someday, they call it The Copper State, among other things.”
Nodding, he sighed, contemplating something. “Gold drives men to do crazy things. It must be God’s grace that we have ye with us to give us some foresight.”
“Some foresight.” I snorted. “All of the things I just told you about can easily be taken care of with modern medicine. My intel is practically useless when you realize that I have no way to circumvent things without items from my own time.”
“The warning is enough, trust me. Many lives are saved when they have knowledge beforehand.”
Frowning, I bit my lip and then looked down. “Sometimes, I wish I’d studied something other than English, like medicine or history. You know, things that would have been useful to me now. I feel so helpless, every day.”
“Ye can’t change yer past, Samantha.” Taking my hand in his, he nodded toward the door. “It’s best to look forward and do what ye can.”
“Do you dance much, dear?”
Ripped from my anxious perusal of the French countryside, I turned and stared at Madame Bevard with wide eyes. She was a heavyset woman, adorned with the largest and frilliest dress I’d yet to see during my time in the past. The red fabric practically screamed elegance, though, and it matched her pale skin color beautifully. Her dark hair, streaked with gray around her temples, had been curled and piled into the latest fashion. She must have been at least thirty years older than me, but her personality was proving to be more around my own age. She sat across from me, flanked by her daughter and husband, all of them waiting patiently for my answer.
“Dance?”
“Yes! I thought you might, since we are on our way to His Majesty’s ball, but upon meeting you, I felt I needed to adjust my initial thoughts towards you.”
“Oh.” What was that supposed to mean?
Next to me, Abella hastily converted her laugh into a cough, her gaze turned out the window of the carriage. Her light yellow gown seemed to mock me with its brightness as she left me to fend for myself.
“I’m afraid that I know very little about dancing,” I stated carefully, smoothing the fabric of my own blue dress over my knees. The skirt was much larger than I was used to, which was apparently how things were done at Court. Everything was bigger and brighter, no matter the cost.
She nodded, seeming to accept my answer without question, and then turned to Tristan, who sat on my other side. “And you, Monsieur?”
“I know enough to get by.” He offered his most dashing smile and I practically heard her sigh at the sight, along with her daughter.
“We should have dance lessons when we arrive!” The daughter—Gloria, I think was her name—clapped her hands in excitement, leaning over her mother to address her father. “Oh, please! It would be so much fun! The ball doesn’t start until tomorrow. We could do it after dinner. You can get us a room, can’t you, Father?”
“We’ll see,” Grand Master Bevard responded cryptically. Something about his tone made me think he would rather do anything but conduct dance lessons after dinner.
“His Majesty is very fond of dancing,” Madame Bevard told me, casually. “He’s been in a few ballets himself! I was at Court for one of them and it was simply magnificent. The theater at the palace is splendid; I hope we get to attend another show while we are there.”
“Yes, the Sun King is quite fond of the arts,” her husband stated. “He’s started a school for dance and an opera company, as well as the projects he’s had carried out to help beautify his palace and Paris. Though, he isn’t too fond of the city itself, which is a shame. That’s why he had the entire Court moved to Versailles, you know. So he wouldn’t have to come into the city.”
“And he loves dancing,” Madame Bevard added again, coming back around to her original point. “So much that he’s even had the entire Court take lessons. You need to have a lesson or two yourself before tomorrow, or you’ll stick out of the crowd.”
“Samantha can follow well enough.” Tristan grinned, coming to my rescue. “As fate would have it, neither of us are much of a dancer, but together we manage.” Taking my hand in his, he squeezed it gently and smiled the smile he saved just for me. The sighs on the other side of the coach were clearly audible this time, but I ignored them.
“I’ll see if I can get us into one of the smaller ballrooms tonight,” Bevard offered, much to the delight of the women he had in his life. “But I make no promises. I may be a Royal Advisor on certain subjects, but I wouldn’t say I hold much sway at Court.”
“How exciting!” Gloria was positively beaming.
“We should arrive just before dinner. There will be hardly any time to unpack before we’ll have to set off.” The mother and daughter started their own lively conversation, leaving me room to finally breathe a sigh of relief.
The palace was only a few hours outside of Paris, but it seemed like the trip was going by faster than that. I’d spent all day at home with Abella, making sure we had everything we would need while we were away. Tristan had been off doing who knows what with the Order, showing up right as the Bevard’s carriage was arriving to take us away. After quickly changing, we departed, my nerves growing by the second. For some reason, the thought of meeting royalty had me on edge. I sincerely hoped I wasn’t about to screw up and taint the O’Rourke name for the rest of all time.
It’s only three days, I thought to myself, trying not to wring my hands in nervous dread. The king would be a busy man. I would only actually have to meet and talk with h
im for a few minutes. I could handle that. The rest of the trip would be spent with the members of Court and participating in the festivities. Most of all, I looked forward to having Tristan to myself for several days; the Order was in Paris and would have to leave him alone for a while.
I hoped.
“Samantha.”
Turning, I smiled at Abella, my eyes drifting from the curled hair at the top of her head, and then downward to where the soft locks brushed ever so slightly against her face.
“I’ll make sure everything gets unpacked while you’re at dinner. Will you want to change for your dance lessons?”
“Don’t be silly,” I chastised her. “You’ll come eat with us. You’ll go to the dance lessons, too.”
“I’m not sure that would be socially acceptable.” She had an expression on her face like she was trying to advise me and I rolled my eyes.
“I told you when I hired you, I was looking for a friend. You are not my servant, Abella. You will come with us because you are a guest, just like me. Besides, I thought a Lady’s maid was supposed to go everywhere with her.”
“It’s not my place to be among the royals and dining with members of Court.” She stared back out the window, as if the conversation was finished, her hands clasped firmly in her lap.
“The lass is nervous,” Tristan murmured in my ear, apparently having been listening in. “Maybe try another tactic?”
“Oh.”
Abella was always advising me on fashion and what was proper. It never occurred to me that she might feel out of her element here, as well, despite having helped dress the very people she was going to attend the ball with for years.
“You know,” I said to her quietly, watching the back of her head. “I’m a little terrified of all this. I was hoping that you would come with me, so I would have some familiar faces to help keep me steady.”
Slowly, she turned to watch me again, studying my face, before nodding once. “Oui. I will come, if you need me.”
“Thank you,” I breathed, suddenly realizing how true my statement had been. I wanted friends to be with in an unfamiliar place.
The Bevard women were still happily chatting together, so I turned my attention back to the window. We were part of several groups who were attending the ball, caravanning to the palace as one mass. The assembly stopped at the halfway point to stretch our legs, but the respite from the stuffy, red interior of the coach was short. Soon we were on our way again, bumping across the dusty road, and before I knew it, we were arriving at the Palace of Versailles.
I’d heard about the palace before, in my own time, and had even seen it portrayed in a few movies, but nothing could have prepared me for seeing it in person. The long, cobblestone covered stretch of space in front of us reached all the way to the gates of the palace, which were a flurry of activity. Everywhere I scanned, there were people. Courtiers and servants alike made their way across the area, the line of carriages I was in slowly being admitted across the barrier. As we inched forward, I did my best to not shove Tristan out of the way so I could see what was going on better.
As our coach passed through the gates, I gawked at the building around us, hardly even noticing as we left our seats and bags behind. Someone said something about our affects being delivered to our rooms, but all I could do was stare.
“It’s quite the vision, isn’t it?” Madame Bevard asked me, smiling knowingly.
Nodding, I turned to examine the official courtyard, the black and white tiles on the ground shining magnificently in the sunlight. “It’s something, that’s for sure.”
“Wait until you see the gardens,” Gloria gushed. “There’s an outdoor ballroom there, too!” She continued to talk, reinforcing my impression that she was only here to dance, and nothing else. She didn’t appear much older than Abella, but she lacked the maturity that the former had. She seemed very much like a naïve, innocent, little girl who thought only of dresses and parties.
“Perhaps we’ll take a turn after dinner and dance lessons, aye?” Tristan asked, securing my arm in the crook of his. “For now, we need to get to the room they told us. They’ll be dropping off our things and we both need to change for dinner.”
“Again?” Flustered right out of my amazement for my surroundings, I looked down at my dress. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?”
“We’re dining with His Majesty tonight,” Tristan said, laughing. “I thought ye might like to wear something a little less traveled in.”
“I do agree,” Madame Bevard spoke emphatically. “I’ll be changing as well, Madame O’Rourke. The King demands nothing but the best.”
And, just like that, all of my fear and nervousness from earlier came crashing back. “Of course,” I stated weakly. “Only the best.” The sights around me seemed to tilt to one side, my head starting to pound as I imagined, yet again, how easily I could make a fool of myself here.
“Come, my love,” Bevard said, hailing his wife. “We will see them again at dinner.”
“Thank ye for yer hospitality,” Tristan called as they hurried off in another direction. Then, turning back to me, his eyes widened and his grip tightened on my arm. “Are ye ready, lass? Do ye need a moment to breathe?”
“You look like you might faint,” Abella said helpfully behind me, her hand instantly finding my back. “Shall I call for assistance?”
“No, I’m fine,” I said, putting the painful swirling of my head aside. “Just overwhelmed, that’s all.” Suddenly, I felt as though I might throw up instead of pass out, but before I could decide, the feeling vanished. Heart pounding, I swallowed, hard. I hadn’t been this nervous since we had gone to face Randall on Oak Isle.
No, I told myself firmly. You are not going to focus on that right now. Not when you need to be completely aware and ready to meet the king.
“I’d never thought Court would make ye nervous, Sam, especially after all I’ve seen ye do at sea.” Tristan’s eyes sparkled as he watched me, his expression showing he believed I was fine now. The two of us slowly started for the doors the Bevard’s had disappeared through.
“Well, I could fight anyone I had a problem with,” I said in a matter of fact tone. “And I could wear pants. And no corset.”
Abella had the decency to look scandalized, but Tristan’s laugh echoed in the large space, causing many people to turn and look at us.
“This is true,” he agreed, chuckling. “I can only imagine the faces of everyone here if they saw ye wield a sword the way I have.”
Grinning, I felt some of the pep return to my step. He was right; if I could handle myself among pirates, high society should be a breeze. Both situations were their own type of game, with different rules, but I knew how to adapt and survive.
It was how I’d made it this far, already.
Somewhere, bells chimed, marking the time, and the people around us increased their speed.
“Dinner is in an hour,” Tristan informed me comfortably. “Everyone will want a good seat at the table. I, however, am content to wait and meet His Majesty tomorrow, during the ball. What say ye?”
Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, I nodded. “Yes, please. I thought I was going to be sitting across from him making small talk when you said we’d be eating together tonight.”
“No.” He grinned, keeping any comments about my obliviousness to himself. “Everyone eats dinner in the Hall of Mirrors during the ball. It’s a very large affair. We’ll just be part of the crowd.”
“Wonderful.”
I really, very sincerely meant it, too.
The Hall of Mirrors only had looking glasses on one side of the long, rectangular room. However, they reflected the massive gardens through the large windows on the other side of the space, which made it feel much bigger than it actually was. Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling, which was painted in magnificent scenes that must have been from the King’s life. Golden statues and filigree lined the walls, the entire area truly fit for royalty.
It
was my understanding that this place was normally only used for fancy gatherings and important meetings or parties, as well as for the King’s daily use. Tonight, though not officially part of the ball, was apparently special enough that they had decided to feed everyone in elegance.
“So exciting,” Madame Bevard was saying two seats to my left. “Doesn’t His Majesty look splendid this evening?”
We were quite a ways away from the Sun King, but what I could see of him did fit the hype. He wore a long, dark, curly wig, the hair framing his pale face. Clothed in royal blue, his clothes seemed to be masterly crafted and adorned, as one would expect. He was eating calmly, listening to someone seated closer, who appeared to be dishing out compliment after compliment in his favor.
“I do love it when there’s a party,” she continued confessing, loudly, for everyone to hear. “It breaks up the monotony of everyday life.”
“I’m sure His Majesty enjoys the break from his schedule as well,” another person I’d yet to be introduced to, agreed. “And he throws such lovely parties.”
“Do you remember the last ball?” Gloria asked eagerly. “I felt I would never sleep again from all the excitement!”
And so began the conversation of the last time they’d all been gathered together. Tristan and I were ignored for the most part, for which I was grateful. I’d never been to any kind of ball before, unless you counted prom. Something told me it wasn’t the same.
Abella remained quiet through the meal as well, eyes wide as she peered around, her food almost untouched. I thought she might have felt as overwhelmed by everything as I did, but she hid her anxiousness a little better. Every now and then, someone would ask her something, especially Madame Bevard, since they were seated right next to each other.
Carried Away (The Swept Away Saga, Book Two) Page 11