The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette

by Clegg, Melanie

  'It is always a pleasure to have such a delightful subject,' he remarked with a smile as he tilted my head to one side, just so and then placed one of my hands beneath my chin. 'You will win all hearts in France, Your Highness.'

  His pleasure in me did not last for long and after only a short time it was becoming clear that he was not finding me at all delightful to work with as he kept jumping up and repositioning first my hands then my head, then my hands again, then telling me to hide them altogether, then asking me to smile more, then less and so on. It was dreadful watching him become increasingly irate and when I started to get a cramp in my arm, I was too scared to tell him in case he lost his temper completely and threw his pastels at my head or something.

  When the hour was over and I thankfully rose to leave, he crumpled the paper in his hand and hurled it on to the floor. 'Tomorrow we will try again!' he announced with a deep sigh.

  Thursday, 4th May, early.

  The portrait is finished and is surprisingly pleasing, considering how much trouble it cost us. I look very young and very pretty and gaze out directly at the viewer with wide, innocent blue eyes. The entire family gathered in Mama's freezing cold, sandalwood scented sitting room to inspect it before it was wrapped in silks, sealed into a wooden box and then sent on its way to Versailles.

  'King Louis will be extremely impressed,' Elizabeth said to Christina with a giggle and a significant look from beneath her thinly plucked eyebrows. 'I hear that he is partial to pretty little blondes.'

  I do not know why they both started laughing so nastily; surely it is a good thing if the King of France admires my looks and thinks me pretty enough to marry his grandson? I only wish that I had been allowed to smile with my mouth open so that he could see how wonderfully straight my teeth are now, considering all the effort that went into making them so.

  Wednesday, 17th May, late. I should be in bed.

  We had a delightful family concert tonight and I played the harp in front of everyone. Even Monsieur le Marquis de Durfort came up to me afterwards and complimented me on the grace and skill of my playing.

  'I do believe that he is softening towards you, my dear one!' Amalia whispered to me with an arch look behind her painted fan. 'I heard him remark to your Abbé that he thought it impossible to imagine anything prettier and more charming than your expression while playing the harp.'

  I blushed. 'This is praise indeed,' I murmured, not knowing what else to say. 'I was starting to think that perhaps Monsieur de Durfort was against my marriage.'

  'It would appear that he has changed his mind.' Amalia laughed and passed on to talk to Marianne.

  Thursday, 25th May, early morning.

  I am lying in bed, waiting for my maids to silently tiptoe in to open the heavy pink damask curtains and light the little white stove in the corner of my room before bringing me my breakfast in bed. I do not know why I woke up so early but it is pleasant to lie here snugly and listen to the sounds of the palace as it wakes up from its slumber and prepares for the day ahead.

  My brothers are already up and I can hear them outside, hallooing noisily to each other and whistling for their dogs as they set off on their customary early morning walk in the park. I can close my eyes and imagine them as they must look: Joseph, tall and handsome with a stern look in his bright blue eyes; Ferdinand, sulkily kicking the turf and squinting up at the sun that is just beginning to peep over the trees and Max, with his untidy fair hair escaping from its ponytail, eating the sugared pastries that he carries in his pockets and carelessly flicking the clamouring, hungry dogs away.

  Elsewhere in the palace, Mama will have been up since dawn and will already be dressed in her customary black, with a plain linen cap pulled down over her powdered hair and black net mittens on her beautiful white hands. She will have had an early morning meeting with several yawning, weary advisors and will now be sitting at her black lacquer desk, signing official papers heavy with red wax seals, writing letters that will travel all over the globe and occasionally pausing to either pat one of her dogs, sip some water or gaze out through the open window at the park beyond.

  I can't imagine what it will be like to live so far away from everything that I have ever known. To wake up anywhere else but here, safe in the heart of my own family.

  Tuesday, 6th June.

  It has finally happened.

  I was walking in the garden with the Princesses Friederike and Charlotte when one of my mother's liveried footmen appeared on the path ahead of us, flushed and out of breath as he had obviously been rushing around in search of me. I suddenly felt very faint and breathless as I stood in the middle of the gravel path and waited for him to reach us. I reached back blindly to take hold of Charlotte's hand and her warm fingers twisted reassuringly around mine.

  'This is it,' I whispered, shivering despite the fact that it was a clement day with barely a breeze in the sky. I could hear the birds singing in the trees overhead and for a brief moment everything seemed to have a shimmering clarity and stillness. 'This is finally it.' I will always remember where I was standing and how I felt when the footman came to tell me that my mother had sent me for me.

  'Your Highness,' the boy bowed low and then straightened up, his cheeks red and pimpled beneath his slightly askew white perriwig. 'I have been ordered to take you immediately to the Empress.'

  'Of course.' I looked back fearfully at my friends and they both stepped forward with reassuring smiles and began to straighten my floral printed white silk dress and the pink cashmere shawl that I had arranged about my elbows. 'Do I look pretty?' I asked anxiously, aware that this was an important moment.

  'You look charming,' Friederike said with a wistful smile as she gave my silk skirts one last tweak. 'Your mother, the Empress will be very pleased.'

  I leaned forward, took both of her hands and kissed her cheeks, then turned to follow the footman down the paths, along the parterre and back to the palace. We passed several tight little groups of courtiers, who looked at me curiously as they curtsied, their bright silk skirts looking like petals against the foliage of the gardens. I heard their whispers behind my back: 'The French have asked for her. King Louis was immediately smitten with her portrait. The princess will be Dauphine within the year.' News travels fast in Vienna. We have no secrets here.

  The liveried palace footmen lowered their eyes and bowed deferentially as I clattered in my high heels through the succession of rose and lavender pot pourri scented white and gold reception rooms that led to my mother's sitting room. The rooms were crammed full of courtiers, all of whom had clearly heard the news and were keen to catch a glimpse of me as I made my way to my destiny. They broke off whispered conversations and stared at me boldly as I walked past, barely acknowledging them with the flicker of a smile and the smallest movement of my head.

  Amalia was waiting for me by the door to Mama's room, splendidly dressed in a gown of yellow and pink silk with a delicate lace fichu arranged over her plump shoulders. 'Be brave little one,' she murmured into my ear as she embraced me then swiftly kissed me on both cheeks. 'Do not be afraid.'

  A footman opened the double doors and I took a deep breath and stepped into the room, jumping a little when the doors closed with a sharp bang behind me. Mama was sitting behind her desk when I entered but stood up with a smile and came forward to take my hands and lead me to a small, gold upholstered sofa placed beside the stove. 'My dearest child, come here and sit beside me.'

  I obediently sat down and arranged my hands neatly in my lap then looked at Mama from beneath my lashes, waiting for her to say something.

  'My dearest child,' she murmured, touching my rosy cheek with her fingertips. 'I am so proud.'

  I looked at her properly then. 'Oh?' I did not know what else to say. Even though everyone else in Schönnbrunn knew the news, it seemed important that I should at least pretend to still be in maidenly ignorance of my fate.

  Mama smiled and took both of my hands in hers. I could feel the cold chill of her diamo
nd rings against my fingers. 'My dearest girl, the King of France has asked for you,' she said triumphantly. 'It is all settled at last and you, my darling, are to be married to his grandson, the Dauphin.' Tears of pride sparkled in her light blue eyes. 'You will be Queen of France, Antonia.'

  'Queen of France,' I murmured, trying in vain to imagine myself with a cold, weighty crown upon my head. 'It will be very strange.'

  'It is a great honour,' my mother reminded me. 'France is one of the greatest countries in the world and you are fortunate indeed to have such an opportunity.' She stood up then and went to the open window, where she stood for a moment inhaling deeply. 'You will primarily reside at Versailles, which is of course is famed throughout Europe for its magnificence and splendour and of course Paris will be close at hand.' She turned back to me with a smile. 'You will want for nothing and will live in the very lap of luxury. I must confess that I am a little jealous.'

  I didn't believe her; my mother had never wanted anything other than to be in Vienna and to rule her Empire as her father had done before her. In the eyes of my mother, there was no finer destiny on Earth than to be herself.

  'I know that it will be hard to go so far from home and everything that you know, but King Louis has expressed his desire to treat you as his own dearest grand daughter and I have no doubt at all that I will be placing you in the very best of hands.'

  I found my voice then. 'And what of the Dauphin? What about him?'

  My mother looked confused. 'The Dauphin?' she echoed with a frown. 'Well, he has nothing to say about the matter but I hear that he was very pleased indeed with your portrait.'

  I shook my head. 'But what is he like? Is he handsome? Does he like to ride? Will we be friends?' It had been considered essential that my portrait be seen in Versailles before an offer for my hand was made but it seemed that at no point had been considered a good idea that I should be allowed to peruse the likeness of my prospective husband. Left to my own devices, I imagined him to be much like my brothers in terms of appearance and tastes and this thought comforted me very much.

  Mama looked a trifle embarrassed. 'I have really no idea,' she said. 'I have heard that he is well favoured and intelligent and that he likes to go hunting with the other young men of the court. Is that what you mean?'

  I sighed. 'I suppose so. Yes, that is what I meant.'

  'I do hope that this match pleases you,' Mama said then, taking my hand in hers. 'I have been working for so many years towards this alliance with France and now finally it is within our grasp.'

  I looked at her in some surprise, knowing that really my opinion mattered for absolutely nothing and that it didn't matter whether I approved or not because I knew that I was going to France, even if they had to bundle me kicking and screaming into the carriage, but for some reason my mother needed reassurance that I was happy with the choice that had been made for me.

  I took a deep breath and thought of Paris, Versailles and that cold, weighty crown. 'Yes, of course it pleases me.' I smiled and squeezed her hand. 'How could it not?' I thought then of my sisters, sobbing and struggling against the destinies that had been forged on their behalf. I thought of Josepha, pale faced and solemn as she went to her doom and of Carolina, crying in her bedroom on the morning of her wedding and of Amalia, who was being torn away from the man that she loved in order to marry a complete stranger. I thought of all this and felt suddenly as though I had betrayed them all by so compliantly allowing myself to be given away.

  'My dear, what are you thinking of?' my mother asked with a quizzical smile. 'You look so odd.'

  I turned to her then and gave a shaky laugh. 'I was just thinking that you must find my lack of resistance rather disappointing.' I remembered then the public ceremony that had marked Amalia's betrothal, which was in such a stark contrast to this private, cosy little chat. Mama had clearly decided not to chance another display of public disobedience.

  She laughed then and hugged me close. She smelt of roses and lilies. 'No, not at all. If anything, I find it refreshing.' She sighed and kissed my forehead. 'I am used to tears and tantrums and woe and drama but really, you know, marriage is not such a very terrible thing. One man is much the same as another and they are all equally easy to control. I do not quite see what all the fuss is about.'

  This from the woman who left no stone unturned in her quest to marry the man of her choice and avoid the match that had been arranged for her.

  Wednesday, 7th June, waiting for dinner.

  Abbé Vermond came to see me this morning, even though all of my lessons were cancelled for the day. He congratulated me and then we sat for a long time in silence, not knowing what to say now that it has finally all become real.

  'What is the Dauphin like?' I asked at last, leaning forward with my hands clasped before me. 'No one seems to know.' In all our talks about the history and grandeur of France and its royal family and its nobility, we had not so much as touched upon the subject of the boy, only one year older than myself, who was to be my husband. 'Have you ever seen him?'

  The Abbé looked startled. 'Why, yes, of course, frequently but...' He paused then pressed his fingertips together and raised them to his lips as he considered what to say next. 'What would you like to know?'

  I shrugged. 'What are his tastes? Is he handsome? Will I like him? Is he like my brothers?' I lowered my voice, suddenly uncertain. 'Will he like me?'

  Vermond smiled. 'How could he not like you?' He sighed. 'The Dauphin Louis is much the same as other young men of his age and is extremely fond of horse riding and hunting. He is not precisely handsome but he is tall and well built and has blond hair and pleasing blue eyes.' He smiled. 'I think that you will like him very well. He is not so lively as you are, Your Highness, and is much addicted to his books and lessons but he is a kind hearted boy and one that it would be easy to become fond of.'

  I could not help but frown during most of his speech. 'So not handsome then?'

  Vermond laughed. 'My dear, outside fairy tales there is no such thing as a handsome prince.'

  'And he likes to read?' My heart sank as I imagined myself married to the sort of boy who likes to sit indoors reading books when I would much rather be running around outside with my dogs. 'Will he think me very stupid because I do not like books very much?'

  The Abbé smiled rather sadly and patted my hand. 'I am sure that he will think nothing of the sort, Your Highness.' He coughed and looked embarrassed. 'You realise of course that in a state marriage you will not be expected to spend much time in each other's company?'

  'Oh.' I felt very deflated and foolish and could feel a flush of embarrassment rising about my ears. 'Oh, yes, of course.' I attempted a brave smile. 'I knew that, yes.'

  Vermond looked unhappy. 'Your parents were extremely close were they not? It is not always so when the parties have been married for reasons of policy and not because of their own personal inclinations.' He patted my hand again. 'Your parents were fortunate and we must hope that you will be fortunate also.' He did not sound very optimistic.

  Friday, 9th June, I am supposed to be working on my French.

  Amalia and I have just spent an hour with one of the finest dressmakers in Vienna, being fitted for the magnificent gown that I am to wear to the fete at Laxenburg that has been planned for my name day. It is cloth of silver embroidered all over with silver and pearls and cobwebby, silvery lace. I stood very still, hardly daring to breathe while the seamstresses crawled about on the floor pinning up the voluminous skirt and allowed myself to only very lightly touch the wide panniers that stretched out from either side of my narrow, corseted waist.

  'You look wonderful,' Amalia said with a smile. 'Just like a princess should.' She had already tried on her dress: an exquisite raspberry pink gown embellished with green ribbons and bows and was now comfortably ensconced in a low arm chair, watching my fitting.

  'I hope so,' I frowned as I timidly touched one of the large silver ribbon bows on the stomacher with my finger. 'It is terribly
heavy.' I gazed at myself in the ribbon and lace swathed full length mirror and thought that I looked terribly small and really very sad.