Affaire de Coeur

by Stephanie O’Hanlon

  Lucien turned on his side toward me, obviously aware of my distress. He looked me over with a little smirk on his face. “Why do you worry what they say about her?”

  “Why do you worry about what they say about you?” I asked, looking at my hands.

  “I told you before, I do not. I only care that they watch. Colette parades her business to them, my love.”

  I looked at him, knowing he was right. With friends like Constanze, no wonder Colette had so many rumors and so little secrets. I looked into his deep, blue eyes and admired them for a moment. The dark, leafy green around the pupil quickly changed to a stunning blue then a thin circle of black.

  His voice broke through my thoughts. “I am sorry if it upsets you, discussing Colette’s problems with society. I never wish to upset you.”

  I frowned, sitting up slightly and turning toward him. “I am not upset. I’m…I don’t know. I just feel as if I am growing apart from her. It was silly to think that this kind of time together would have brought us closer together.”

  He shook his head. “No, that isn’t silly at all. I am sure it is just the circumstances, just because she has her hands full. Besides, you have your hands full as well. This little secret of ours is quite a lot to keep so quiet.”

  “Well,” I said, stroking his hair from his face. “It really doesn’t feel like it is that hard, and it is worth it, anyway. What about you? Is it not a lot for you. I mean, some mornings you trek to Versailles to hunt all morning with the King.”

  “Also into the afternoon with the Dauphin.” He sighed, shaking his head. “He does just about anything to stay away from his new bride, though she is kind to him and lovely enough. It is tiring.”

  I stroked his chin, feeling his smooth face beneath my fingers. “How do you do it? You run around all-day and come to my bed at night. When do you sleep?”

  “Right here.” He stroked my face. “In your arms, where I would rather be than my own bed.”

  I smiled, blinking slowly. I was starting to feel the need to sleep, but I tried to ignore it. “Does your grandmother not ask questions?”

  He shook his head. “She has retired when I leave and assumes I have left for hunting when I am not in my bed in the morning.”

  I leaned into him tiredly, resting my head against his shoulder. “I suppose that works in our favor.”

  “Are you tired?” he asked, his hand running its way through my hair gently, soothingly.

  I closed my eyes, sighing contentedly. “Hmmm.”

  I felt his hand gently raise my head and place it down on the pillow, cradling me in his arms as I drifted off to sleep.

  I didn’t sleep long. As I made it a habit of awaking when Brielle and her ladies would enter the room in the morning, I would be awake just before Lucien rose to ready for his swift and quiet escape off the grounds.

  I stood from the bed, looking to my peignoir, as it had been carelessly strewn on my little, pink velvet chair by my vanity. I grabbed it and carefully pulled it on.

  Lucien was still asleep, though I could hear from his breathing that he was rousing. Not wishing to wake him any sooner than need be, I made my way over to the window, where an uncommonly cool breeze swept through the window and my hair, making it sway against me very gently. I carefully and quietly cranked the handle, closing it as I stared out at the fountain. It was quiet as the sun burst over the horizon, filling the entire land with a warm, burning glow.

  I noticed I was looking at the world in a different light. No one is truly safe from the prying eyes of the world—not myself, Colette, or even the Dauphine herself. We would forever be doing a little dance in front of the world, no matter if I were in the country or here, at the Lorme’s sparkling jewel box of a palace.

  I looked back toward him as he rolled over in the bed. His arm went to where my body usually was, looking toward it with concern until his tired eyes met mine.

  “Is everything all right?” he asked.

  I nodded, smiling sweetly at him as I crossed my arms, walking over to him.

  I helped him dress, which was our norm in the mornings. I handed him his green, satin breeches from the wardrobe. I watched as he pulled them on over his white, silk stockings, the hem of them cutting off at his knees and tightly forming to the outline of his strong, masculine legs. I then handed him his blouse, which he pulled over his head, tugging at the frilly, lacy cuffs as I started to tend to his stock and solitaire.

  “I wish I could help you so dutifully in the mornings when you make your toilette,” he whispered, knowing that the house was going to start waking up within the next half-hour.

  I smiled. “Oh, and what a help you would be. I can just see you powdering my hair.”

  He smiled, looking down at me for a moment, his expression softening. “What are you doing today, Mademoiselle?”

  “I believe that I am to entertain the Vicomtesse, Constanze de Guillaume.” I sighed, smoothing out the light, airy material of his blouse on his shoulders.

  “Ah, yes.” He nodded. “I almost forgot. I wish I could save you from it, somehow.”

  “Hmm…Well, what is today?” I looked up, trying to think.

  “It is Sunday, my love.” He wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me into him.

  “Well,” I began, thinking of my itinerary, “after breakfast, the Abbé will be by for mass and then…hmmm, I am unsure. Too bad it is not Tuesday. Armand would be by, and you could stop by for a game of croquet or maybe Faro. I am getting quite good at it. What about you? What is your day going to be like?”

  He sighed, really not needing to take the moment I did to think of his day. He already knew his itinerary, as he always did every day. “I will be able to make home to my own bed for perhaps an hour or so. Then I will be risen, make my lever, and ready to Versailles where I will hunt and tend my court duties with the Dauphin and King until the afternoon. Then, I will return to my home, hopefully catch a few more hours of rest before I have a pressing dinner engagement. Afterward, I will return home once again to sleep. Then, for eleven in the evening I will make my way here, to your bed, where I will make love to you and sleep in your arms.”

  I leaned forward and rested my head on his shoulder, breathing him for just a moment. One last moment before he was to be off for the day.

  I reluctantly stood up straight, turning toward the little velvet chair at my vanity. I pulled his green, embroidered justaucorps up and held it out for him. He put his arms through the sleeves and turned to me as I straightened it out. I then led him over to the door and turned to him. My heart dropped as I remembered this is the part that I so disliked…saying “good night.”

  He leaned into me. His lips went to mine, taking me in for a few moments, before he pulled away from me. His hands were on either side of my face as he looked me in the eyes. “Good night, my love.”

  It took everything in me to look in his eyes without a single tear. My voice escaped me quietly. “Good night.”

  He pulled me into him and kissed my forehead, turning quickly toward the door before he kissed my cheek and dashed out the door.

  I stood stunned. The fact that he was out the door, and no longer within eyesight, shocked my heart and made my whole body shake. I reminded myself that though we were apart, our hearts were together. It was as if he was always with me. In truth, he wasn’t. He was either an hour toward Paris or two hours toward Versailles. The magnificent palace with all the courtiers who, so often, bustle around him and try to talk to him and find out the identity of the mysterious woman he is so romantically involved with.

  For it is sure that he is involved with someone. He even confirms that, and when they ask, “Who is she, my lord?”

  He simply replies, “She knows who she is.”

  How long did I stand at that stupid door? For as long as I had hope that he would turn around and run back to me. It was silly, really. He would be back in a few hours’ time. It was just a day I needed to waste away until he was there, as he said. In my b
ed and in my arms. That’s exactly what I was doing with life at the Du Lorme estate; I was wasting away the day until the night, when my lover would scurry onto the grounds and make love to me.

  Colette was no doubt furious with me once again. A stony silence will fill the air. I could feel it within me. We were fighting now more than ever. Perhaps it was the tension from not only my own secret but the secrets within Colette’s life were finally taking a toll on our relationship.

  I stood up straight, pushing my shoulders back. Well, we will need to put an end to that. All is forgotten. You need to forget this foolishness and move on with life. No reason to be fighting like cats, anyway.

  I nodded and turned toward the room, deciding what to do with myself until Brielle came to make my toilette. I lay back on my bed and looked up at the ceiling.

  My eyes suddenly opened. Brielle was shaking my shoulder, as I obviously fell back asleep.

  “Good morning, Mademoiselle.” She stepped away and curtsied low. “Were you up and about?”

  I nodded, standing up. “Yes, there was a draft in the room. I had to close the window.”

  She pulled the coverlet up and straightened out the bed as three maids brought in pitchers filled with hot water, pouring them into the tub. “It is going to be rather cool again, today. I have finished mending your shawl. Perhaps you would like to wear it today, on account of the wind?”

  “Oh, yes. Thank you. I appreciate you fixing it. I am terrible with the needle.”

  She smiled back to me, bowing her head. “It is quite all right, Mademoiselle, I do not mind at all.”

  She helped me in my bath, scrubbing my shoulders and back, then handing the cloth to me so I could clean my chest, arms and legs. I took my time, as I knew it was still quite early. Brielle helped me out of the tub, and I dried myself off quite quickly, rubbing the linen over my head and hair, and dabbing it in places to get rid of the excess water.

  Brielle, as always, helped me take off my wet bathing gown and put on a fresh, flowery-smelling chemise. My stays were laced tight, and my panniers being fastened around me.

  My gown for the day was a white floral robe à la Française with various different flowers scattered all over it. Pink roses opened largely, red roses closed tightly with large long stems, and violet lavender stocks in print on the material. A double set of white ruffles lined the petticoat and overskirt, up the seams of the stomacher, and around the neckline as white lace flounced at the sleeves in large waves.

  My one lone bracelet was on my wrist and a black ribbon tied comfortably around my neck. My ears were bare and my hair pulled up just as always, the one lone long powdered curl strewn over my shoulder.

  I looked myself over in the large looking glass above my vanity. The subtle, but still noticeable, rouge on my cheeks made my skin look creamy and white. I wondered, did I look any different? Did making love change me? I couldn’t see it. Same old Madeleine stared back at me with large, blue-violet eyes and blonde hair piled atop my head.

  I shook my head. Nope, nothing different. At least, not to my eye.

  I pouted at myself in the looking glass, shrugging my shoulders, turned to the door and walked out of the room and into the hallway. Colette’s open door caught the corner of my eye.

  I walked over to the doorway, leaning against the trim, and watched as Colette looked at herself in one of the many looking glasses lining her wall, stroking her face. She wore a green gown, although not as bright as she usually wore. It was a softer green, perhaps the same green as the interior of her eyes. It complimented her golden skin and dark hair, and I had no doubts it would do the same to her eyes.

  Her eyes acknowledged me for only a moment. She even pretended she didn’t see me, her voice ringing out, “Why, you just get more and more beautiful every day. Don’t you, Colette? How do you stand it?”

  I smiled, a little laugh getting stuck in my throat. “I think Narcissus would even be impressed with your love for yourself.”

  She turned to me, “Oh, I didn’t see you there.” She winked devilishly, smiling widely.

  I shook my head, “Of course you didn’t.”

  “I think we should have breakfast out in the garden, a picnic of sorts. We should really take advantage of the tame weather while we can,” she said, turning to me.

  I agreed. The maids in the room carried out her wish without her even having to say two words to them about the matter. A smile crossed her face as she skipped over toward me, passing me by as she ran out into the hallway.

  I ran after her, catching up just as she slowed to walk down the staircase. “You seem to be in a pleasant mood, today.”

  She nodded as she began her decent. “I am.”

  “I thought Armand was being a bother?” I lifted my skirt as we got to the bottom landing.

  “Ugh, that. Well, I have decided I don’t care.” She turned and walked into the dining room, stopping at the table to grab the Gazette, which was obviously already read by the Marquise and left behind.

  “You have decided?” I asked, confused.

  “Yes.” She stopped, turning to me. “I can do that. I simply do not care. I have other suitors who catch my interest. Why should I waste so much energy on him? Why should I be so aggravated with the situation? I take the easy way out. I don’t care.”

  “Do you want to tell me what exactly is going on? Before Constanze and her little group gets here?”

  She shook her head. “Really, I do not. As I said, I do not care. He just likes to blow hot and cold, to see if I am really interested and what I will do for such interest. I am not a toy, I am not playing his game, no matter what I…no matter what.”

  She then smiled lightly, seeming satisfied with her thought. She turned and made her way out toward the salon.

  Brielle walked up behind me with a tray in her hands. She looked out to the salon, the same direction I was looking. “Are you also going to be taking breakfast out in the garden, Mademoiselle?”

  I looked to her, almost startled. “Oh, yes. Yes, I am.”

  She smiled and waited for me to lead the way, hurrying out after Colette. She was already sitting on a large piece of linen on the grass by the path that led to a patch of forest before the orchard and fields. She had the Gazette opened before her, reflecting the sun onto her face.

  I sat down with her. Toulouse ran after Brielle. His white, fluffy body grew quite a bit, and his paws skittering across the ground before a fly crossing his path distracted him. I almost laughed, watching him stop in his tracks and his big, blue eyes following the bug around him.

  “Toulouse!” I shouted. His eyes came to me and brightening as he saw me, scampering toward me and pouncing into my lap.

  Colette smiled. “It is almost sickening how much that cat loves you.”

  I picked him up, holding him in front of me and looking him over. “He is simply the best cat in France! He comes from such good stock.”

  “Yes, Royalty.” Her eyes widened as she bit into her piece of brioche, looking over the paper.

  I frowned as I turned the kitten toward me, noticing just how much bigger he was in such a small frame of time. His body had lengthened a little, but nothing noticeable. It was really vertically in which he had grown. His fat kitten tummy had disappeared and flattened out. How old was he? Perhaps two—two and half months?

  “You should watch that little devil,” Colette began, pointing to the cat. “He pushed open my door the other night and started to chase my feet under my coverlet.”

  I giggled as I watched him crawl off my lap, pouncing at a nearby dandelion.

  “What was worse, I was laughing, so he thought I was enjoying it and continued to do it, even when I put him on the floor. He simply climbed his way back up and proceeded to go mad.” She slathered some jam onto her brioche, a change that she did not like when she bit into it, placing what was left of it on her little porcelain plate.

  I opened my mouth to reply to her, and Constanze’s high-pitched, scratchy voice barre
led into my ears.

  “Ah, Colette. My darling!”

  We looked up to her, preparing to rise, but she shook her head.

  “No, no. Do not bother with that nonsense. We will join you.” She pointed behind her to Yolande, who wore a yellow gown a shade or two darker than Constanze’s, which was a much more appealing, soft yellow, like one of Colette’s more preferred ones.

  They both sat down on the large linen awkwardly, like they didn’t quite understand how to go about it in their gowns, but they were sadly successful in completing the motion. Constanze had a look of discomfort on her face as she glanced around. The hat on her head shielded her from the sun beating down, though it wasn’t harsh. It was a nice cool day, and the sun was quite nice.

  “So,” she began, looking disgusted at the bounty before us on their little trays, the covers beside them in case some bugs tried to climb around it. “This outdoor excursion just reeks of country life. I take it was your idea, Madeleine?”

  I was surprised she had addressed me. I was so used to her ignoring my existence. I shook my head, about to answer.

  “No, it was my idea, actually,” Colette rang out, cutting me short.

  “Oh, well it is a wonderful one!” Constanze smiled, her expression completely changing.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Toulouse jumped onto my lap suddenly, prompting me to laugh out loud, and his front paws reached up my bodice.

  “Oh, what a darling little creature,” Yolande said, smiling genuinely at the cat and myself.

  I smiled back to her, noticing for the first time that Yolande could be rather beautiful if she wasn’t in the shadow of Constanze so often. Her face was heart shaped, her light, burgundy-colored hair swept up and shining more red than brown as I had previously thought. Her dark eyes never left the sight of Toulouse, who chased my finger as I ran it over my gown.

  Colette put down the paper finally, pointing to me. “He was actually a gift for Maddy. His name is Toulouse.”