“Did you see the look on her face when you two walked in? It was priceless, absolutely priceless!” She laughed, scooting to the end of the chaise longue and lifting her feet up beside me. “Do you think it is her, though. She is the lady? He barely looked at her.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I can find out.”
She pointed to me, her green eyes glittering with delight, “As you should! I like this new confidence in you, Maddy. It is definitely to my liking.”
“I like it, too. What of Étienne?”
“What of him?” she asked, her head falling back against the chair.
My brow furrowed as I looked over to the corner of the room. “I thought you were…I thought—”
“Hmmm…Well, he is still terrified of Vachel. When is he going to get it through his thick head that Vachel is a thing of the past? I wish not to even say his name for fear of vomiting nonstop.”
You said it twice.
“But,” she continued, “Tuesday Armand will be over. At least he can entertain me. We should all play croquet, again. That was fun, and you can invite Lucien tomorrow evening.”
I nodded. “Yes, I most certainly will.”
Monday evening, Lucien arrived promptly at seven, chatting for a few minutes in the salon before supper was prepared and set out. The Marquis took his meal in his office and the Marquise in her private dining room. They had quarreled earlier in the day—a row that filled the walls of the large home, and even the second floor.
Lucien made normal chitchat, and his efforts at being more discreet was paying off. Colette was somewhat distraught at this fact—that things changed from earlier—but I was thankful I was able to restrain myself.
I was almost completely certain that what I felt for Lucien was stronger than lust or a simple attraction. Though, I was terrified to put the word “love” to it. Honestly, I knew that’s what it was. Every glance he gave me made my knees weaken, my heart speed up, and my palms disgustingly sweaty.
Colette barely touched her meal, something that was slightly uncharacteristic of her. She looked up at us, stood from her seat, and put her hand to her forehead. “I am feeling a bit ill. Perhaps it is the heat. If you excuse me, I am going to lie down for a bit.”
I stood up, and Lucien followed. I reached my hand out to her in concern.
She winked at me, quickly making her way out of the room.
I frowned, shaking my head as I turned to Lucien. He was to my side, with his arms wrapped around me the minute her light orange sacque back left the doorway. He turned me to him, his breathing picking up. “Is there somewhere we can be alone?”
I nodded, turning as Brielle walked into the room. “Could you please get my shawl for me? After such a heavy meal, I think a walk is in order. Some fresh air. Will you let Mademoiselle Colette know?”
She nodded as she quickly made her way out of the room, dashing back in a few moments with my light violet shawl, which matched my robe à l’Anglaise. I thanked her, turned to Lucien, and we made our way out to the terrace and down toward the maze once again. The sunset blazed around us—a large, orange ring that blended seamlessly into a pink then violet.
We made our way right to the heart of the maze, which was far enough away from any eyes or ears that I wasn’t worried about anyone spying on us. The moment we had the seclusion, we fell into each other’s arms in a passionate embrace. His lips found mine quickly as his fingers slipped up to my neck, his thumbs gently touching my jaw and cheeks.
I pulled away from him, almost letting out a moan of discomfort in doing so. “We will need to be more careful. When Colette told me you had a new lady yesterday afternoon, I didn’t act accordingly.”
“Ah, so Constanze had her ears open at the ball, did she?” he asked, keeping me in his arms while trying to catch his breath.
I nodded as my breathing slowed to a regular pace. “She did. I almost bungled the whole thing.”
“How will we be able to sneak around? How can I come see you, now that they know I have a lady?”
“I already handled that. I told her I would find out why you were still seeing me, which we will tell her that you regard me as a dear friend. I will continue to convince her that I am trying to win you over, have you cast this new lady aside,” I explained, running my fingers over the glittering embroidery on his red-collared justaucorps and on his chest. I noticed even Lucien’s informal wear had a flare of formality: the embroidery, sequins, or gems that usually adorned him. I didn’t care either way. He was always handsome.
“Oh, I could never do such a thing. This new lady has me in her grasp.” He smirked, kissing my neck playfully.
I giggled as I slapped his shoulder. “No! Come now. We need our wits about us if we are going to get things as we want, which…we really haven’t talked about. We will need to put our heads together to find ways to hide you away, meet somewhere on the grounds, and reasons for you to visit.”
He sighed heavily, looking my face over. His own expression seeming to quiet.
My smile faded as I looked into his dizzying eyes, running my thumb over his cheek. “It seems like so much trouble, doesn’t it?”
He shook his head. “No. Anything for you is never too much trouble.”
“You know just what to say and how to say it. Don’t you, Comte?” I smiled.
His voice went soft, making my entire body shiver. “I only speak the truth.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, looking him over. “Are you sure this isn’t something as stupid as lust, and it will work its way out of our systems?”
He frowned. “I don’t know about that, Madeleine. I don’t think that’s what this is.”
I shook my head. “I don’t, either.”
“Then, why say it?” He laughed.
“Someone has to have the voice of reason. I thought it should be me. Though, I must admit. I thought you would have had the same thoughts of reason, but apparently not.” I kissed him on the cheek playfully, my guard dropping and my mind sinking into ease around him. I felt safe, comforted in his arms.
Oh, Madeleine. You are getting far too deep for this.
He nodded. “I see your point, but do not worry. This type of thing does not require reason. What relationship does?”
I let my head fall to his shoulder, feeling his arms hold me tightly. His bedecked justaucorps smelled of his cologne and made my toes curl in delight. “Oh, I am to invite you to croquet tomorrow afternoon, with Armand.”
“I will be here.”
I smiled and closed my eyes, but for only a moment. His hands pulled my shoulders toward him, encouraging me to look up at him.
“I may be late, come to think of it,” he groaned.
“Why?”
“I must make to court tomorrow morning, but only for a short hunting excursion. Though, I can leave early to visit you. The King will be lenient as I never do such a thing,” he said, rubbing my shoulder. He pulled my shawl up around me and tightly in front of me, holding it closed.
I looked up to him, into his eyes. I took a moment to really look at them and not just get caught up in them. “I suppose your obligations will take you away often.”
“Well, until I am married. Then, I will be busy being a husband. Though, yes. You are right. It is quite often, as the Dauphin loves to hunt.” He leaned into me, brushing his lips softly and quickly against mine before standing up straight, keeping his hands holding my shawl closed in front of me.
I nodded, knowing this was true. I read the Gazette. I knew of the King and the Dauphin’s love for hunting—something they did nearly every day, nearly all day. I suddenly wondered how Lucien was able to come visit me so often when they liked to hunt for hours on end, seemingly with Lucien in tow.
I looked around at the falling sunset, watching as the violet darkened to blue and the pink to yellow. “I wonder how long we can stay out here without rousing suspicions.”
“Hmmm. I don’t know, Mademoiselle. Tomorrow, we will need to be on our b
est behavior. Is it not better to get it out of our systems, now?”
He put his index finger under my chin, raising it up gently and looking me over. A warm rush of desire for him ran through me and made my head spin.
“Oh.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a letter and handed it to me. “This is for later. I do still have permission to write you?”
I smiled and looked it over, noticing the red wax seal on it did not have de Laurent’s filigree “L” on it. In its place was an extravagant “B” with flowers around it.
Lucien pointed to it. “I thought it best for us to write under a pen name. I shall be Monsieur B. You can tell Colette I am an old friend of some sort, from the country.”
“Who will I be?” I asked, looking up to him.
“Hmmm.” He looked around. “Mademoiselle B. That way I will know it is you, and only you. Fair?”
I nodded, smiling. I noticed his quote of Colette’s favorite word. I looked over the letter once again, the parchment shimmering in the dying light.
“Open it later, in your rooms and once you are away from the chatter.”
He stroked my cheek, my eyes closing as I clutched the letter to me.
We didn’t spend too much more time out in the maze. Lucien deciding it was best to take his leave. We shared one last passionate embrace before we pretended we were just two new friends.
Chapter Twelve
Colette was already in her nightgown, lying on her side in the bed, awaiting me when I walked into my bedchamber. I looked to the clock. Only just ten, and she was dressed for bed?
“What are you doing in here?” I asked her, carefully hiding Lucien’s letter under my shawl.
She sat up, crossing her legs beneath her. “So? What happened?”
I walked over to my secrétaire and placed the shawl down on to it casually. I could have jumped from my agitation. I wanted to read that letter!
“Nothing. Our suspicions were correct. He has a new lady he is interested in, but he still wants to be my friend. In fact, he will be here promptly after your music lesson for croquet.”
She slumped down, discouraged. “Oh.”
I frowned and walked over to her. “I am actually quite pleased to be his friend, Colette. After actually speaking to him, we have very little in common, so the attraction is certainly not as strong.” I could have hit myself for such lies! The attraction was not only strong, it was stronger. Though I was unsure of Lucien and my common interests, I knew we shared a similar past. Granted, we hadn’t really been speaking when we had our moments to ourselves.
“Oh. Well, then,” she said, turning as she pushed her hair off her shoulder.
“Why are you ready for bed?” I asked, sitting down on my pink velvet chair by my vanity.
“I was playing sick, remember?” She smiled, though it quickly disappeared. “All for nothing, it seems. Damn. I was so sure he wanted you. I wonder who the woman is. Did you ask?”
“I did, but he wouldn’t tell me. He said it was no one we knew. Perhaps someone at court?”
She lay down on the bed, sprawling herself out as she looked up to the ceiling. “Probably one of the Princesses of the Blood or some twit courtier. A Duchesse or a widow, or something like that.”
I almost wanted to laugh, and my lips pursed together as I held it in as best as I could. I shook my head and cleared my throat.
“So, what of you and Étienne? Or is it Armand?”
She looked at me, her neck craning. “What are you going on about?”
“I am confused as to who your suitor is,” I said, looking down at the light violet of my gown, which had darker embroidery around the neckline and bottom of the petticoat. I often liked the simplicity of the English fashions, though I would always be happy to have a sacque back as well.
“Ha! Well, things with Étienne are going nowhere. And Armand? Why do you go on about him? I have shown nothing but immense dislike toward him from the minute he opened his mouth.” She lifted her leg up, resting her ankle on her other knee, and the skirt of her nightgown slipped down toward her stomach.
I frowned. “Come now, Colette! You and Armand flirt nonstop, and shamelessly so! If things are going nowhere with Étienne, then why not entertain Armand? He is a Vicomte. Think of the delight your parents would have in such a pick, if it came to that.”
“I do not know why you think me such the harlot, Maddy. Like I should have one of those petite maison’s where I meet my various lovers,” she said angrily.
My mouth fell open with shock. “I never said that! I just do not understand why you are constantly denying that you are attracted to Armand!”
“Because I am not!” she snapped, sitting up on the bed. “If you keep going on about it, I am going to really get angry!”
I closed my mouth, looking down at my hands as she got off the bed and walked over to the door to the boudoir. She stopped and turned to me.
“Does it really matter, anyway? He is so infatuated with Rose that I am nearly invisible to him!” Her eyes strained, as if she was trying not to cry.
“He is not interested in Rose,” I said.
“Oh, what do you know? You cannot even steal a kiss!” she snapped as she turned and stormed through the boudoir, slamming the door shut.
I shuddered as it slammed, wincing. Brielle and her ladies entered, looking over the room for broken objects.
“Is everything all right, Mademoiselle?”
“Yes. I think I am ready to make my couchér, now.”
“Would you like a bath?”
“I will take one in the morning.”
I quickly dressed for bed, waiting for Brielle and her ladies to leave the room before I snatched up Lucien’s letter and ran over to my bed, jumping inside and tearing it open.
Monday, 11 of June 1770
Mademoiselle,
I am hoping you are reading this in the safety of privacy, for it is quite lengthy and speaks, at times, about our private matters.
I suppose you could call this a love note—a little letter telling you of how happy I am that you share my feelings and wish to explore them as I do. I do not think you quite understand how happy I really am.
I will start—though, technically this letter has already begun—by painting a picture for you of what I am doing right at this moment. I am sitting at my secrétaire in my office. There are many papers around me, and the gleaming, June sun is coming through the large window before me, soaking into me.
I can tell you, though it should not surprise you, that you are present in my thoughts. You are really all I think about. Too soon for such words?—Perhaps, but I can tell you honestly I wish to be with you. I have not felt this way in a very long time, if ever.
I want this to be easy, but we both know it is going to be extremely hard. I do not know what will come of it, what our future will hold, but I do know that we will face it as best we can.
I believe I wish for its ease for your sake. You are not used to my world, not used to Paris. Though you fit in seamlessly to most, to me, you stand out because of your differences. Mainly that of your beauty. May I go off on a tangent about that?
I noticed you from across the room. In Constanze’s little dining room, you sat on an armchair. Though I don’t remember what color it was, I do remember you were wearing white and a striking, turquoise petticoat. Your one powdered curl sprung down and cast over your shoulder as you looked about, a glass of spring water in your hand.
Now, it wasn’t until I actually approached you that I fully understood how beautiful you were. Though, I was afraid I had frightened you. You seemed so shocked at my presence, but I cast that off to concern for your friend, Colette.
As you know, I sought you out. Standing in the corners of noisy rooms, pining and hoping I could catch just one glimpse of you, and that your beautiful smile would enter the room and catch my attention. We both know that fate had other ideas on that notion. You were few and far between at those events I chose to attend.
&
nbsp; It made me a desperate man! I actually asked the Duc, and though he knew the Marquis and was good friends with him, had not thought to invite either him or his child and her friend to attend a performance. Yet, there you were! You attended, and your smile instantly brightened this entire world for me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you for even one moment.
I can honestly say it truly astonished me that you would think anyone else would be in my affections. I do not know what fate has in store, what God has in store. I cannot think of anything like that, because my thoughts are of you and only you.
I can tell you now of my excitement for seeing you this evening, and how badly I wish that we could just do as normal couples do. I will graciously and skillfully think of ways for us to be together on a more regular occasion and appreciate what time we do have.
For now, I must make to my appointments—
Do I still have permission to write you? I wish to write you often.
Adieu.
I have the pleasure to be your most humble servant.
Monsieur B.
I blinked tears away as I smiled, bringing the letter up to my nose and taking in the scent of Lucien, which was on the page. Oh, I loved him. I most certainly was in love with this man. There was no doubt about it in my mind.
How am I to go about it? How swept up would I get into this all?
Perhaps it was the thought of Lucien admiring me, of his thinking I was beautiful. I did care how he felt about me, but I could only assume that was because I cared about him. I wondered if that was really part of love: jealousy and questioning whether or not someone feels the same about you, on the same level, and just as much.
I took a deep breath, placing my hands over my face. My head hurt thinking about it! My chest hurt thinking about Lucien. I felt a deep ache whenever his face flashed before my eyes, his voice lingered in my ears.
I laid back, my body sinking into the pillows around me, and the warmth from the June air blowing in through the window. I had the letter clutched to my chest as I closed my eyes tightly. Lucien’s face flashed before me once again, burned into my thoughts.
Affaire de Coeur Page 15