Time-traveling Fashionista at the Palace of Marie Antoinette (9780316202961)

by Turetsky, Bianca

  Louise instinctively patted her own head, which was getting kind of itchy, and was surprised to feel it was also arranged into a stiff pile of hair weaved into a wig of even more hair. It felt kind of like a horse’s tail. She reached in and pulled out a sharp metal wire. Was that supposed to be there? Judging from the coarse, matted texture, Louise had a feeling she did not want to know the last time this Gabrielle girl had washed her hair.

  “Macaroon found her—in the wardrobe!” the princess exclaimed, walking up to the table and wiping the last tear from her cheek as she dropped the shih tzu carelessly on the grass near two small white-and-brown lapdogs that were barking and frolicking around. “Wasn’t that clever? I do love a good game. Let’s play again after tea.” A lone baby goat wandered up to the clearing, and the princess fed it a small cake from the table, which it greedily devoured, licking the remnants from her bare hand as she giggled.

  “Marvelous!” The light blonde–haired girl nodded and clapped in agreement.

  Louise smiled, trying to act like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. As though this was exactly where she was supposed to be. The girls looked as if they could be in high school, but they still loved to play hide-and-seek and have tea parties in the garden of their enormous playhouse with live farm animals roaming in and out of the idyllic tableau. Maybe if Louise stayed here forever she wouldn’t have to grow up after all. She could still be a kid. Even when she turned thirteen.

  They waited until the princess was seated before they started pouring the steaming hot tea and grabbing at the pastries.

  “This is the most beautiful playhouse I’ve ever been to!” Louise exclaimed, buttering a flaky croissant.

  “Isn’t it lovely?” the princess sighed. “I wish we could stay here forever. I never want to go back to Versailles. Louis knew how much the etiquette and formality at the palace tried my patience, so he gave this to me as a gift. At the Petit Trianon, I am me!”

  Louise looked out at the grounds. The table was in the clearing of a beautiful garden that grew wild and lush with roses and lilies. The garden was on the edge of a large, still lake that was flanked on one side by a wooden footbridge. Cows and sheep wandered around freely, chomping on the wild grasses. There were orange blossom trees and rosebushes planted randomly around them, but somehow it all seemed to work perfectly. Across the way, a woman dressed in a long gray muslin dress carrying a silver metal milk pail was walking a cow on a leash made of blue silk ribbon that was tied in a bow around its neck. It seemed like they were in the middle of the English countryside, but Louise knew from the letter that this was France. Everything was almost too perfect, more like they were in the middle of someone’s idea of the countryside, like this couldn’t really exist in real life.

  Across the clearing, Louise caught the eye of a cute young gardener with rich, wavy chestnut brown hair and wearing dark breeches and a waistcoat who was pruning some rosebushes with a large pair of clippers. He quickly looked away, blushing, as though he didn’t want to make eye contact with her. Maybe this Gabrielle was homely or cross-eyed or something? She tried not to take it too personally.

  “Who’s that?” she whispered, nodding toward him. Maybe he was already flirting with one of these girls.

  The giggling stopped, and the table fell totally pin-drop silent. “Who?” the princess finally asked, as though there were no one standing just a few feet away.

  “The guy over there,” Louise clarified. “Trimming the rosebushes.”

  More silence. Louise felt her cheeks get hot as the girls stared at her curiously. Then the table erupted into laughter, as though she had just told the funniest joke they had ever heard. “Isn’t she a riot?” the princess said.

  “Gabrielle has such a marvelous sense of humor,” the girl in the green remarked. Louise lowered her head. She didn’t get it.

  “Gabrielle, can you please pass the sugar to the Princesse de Lamballe?” the princess asked after the giggles had subsided. She handed Louise a delicate white porcelain sugar bowl with a miniature sterling silver spoon sticking out of it. Wait, didn’t that name sound familiar, too?

  Louise looked around the garden table at the other girl and the woman, neither of whom was giving her any clues as to whose tea needed sugar. Was the princess Brown Dress or Green Dress? Gabrielle should definitely know the answer to that question, but the real Louise had no clue.

  After a few moments’ hesitation, she handed the sugar to Brown Dress, whose stiff posture and haughty demeanor made her appear a bit more regal, who then passed it across the table to Green Dress with a slightly confused look. Whoops. Green Dress, the Princesse de Lamballe, put one heaping spoonful in her tea and looked over at Louise. “Now that’s a roundabout way of doing things, isn’t it?”

  Brown Dress gave Louise a long, puzzled look. Louise felt like the woman could see right through her. She took a sip of sweet orange tea and tried to ignore the older woman’s intense gaze by concentrating on spreading jam on her bread, like filling every nook and cranny with red goo was the most important task in the world. Blending in was going to be a little harder than she’d anticipated. She was going to have to be a lot more careful.

  Suddenly there was a commotion of pounding hooves and barking dogs. A pack of beagles followed by five men on horseback wearing navy blue riding coats with big gold buttons and red-and-white trim rode up to the garden gate.

  Macaroon and the other two dogs yipped wildly and darted under the table, hiding under the women’s long dresses. The other ladies started giggling and blushing and basically transforming into blubbering bubbleheads, as though these were popular eighth-grade lacrosse players coming over to sit at their lunch table. The men all looked old to Louise and not nearly as cute as her new crush, who was still nearby, now on his knees weeding the flower beds, which she knew because she was still kind of watching him out of the corner of her eye.

  “My dear wife,” the porkiest one of them called out in a wheezing, nasally voice. He took off his three-cornered hat with a big white feather sticking out of it to reveal a very stylized hairdo curled up on the sides and tied back in a thick ponytail and secured with a black silk ribbon.

  Please, Louise silently prayed, may this man not be talking to Gabrielle.

  She was more than a little surprised to hear the princess respond sweetly, “Oui, mon chéri?”

  Whoa, this gorgeous teenage girl was already married. And to that guy?

  “I would be honored if you could meet me at the palace tonight at half past seven. We are receiving some Swedish military dignitaries and it would be best if you could make it.” He was asking her, but in a way that made it clear that she’d better be there, kind of the way Louise felt when the princess asked her to change her dress. Even though it was posed as a question, she really didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  “Of course, I would be delighted,” the princess responded flatly. She was the only one at the table not flustered by the men’s dramatic arrival. In fact, she seemed almost bored. “We look forward to it. Enjoy your hunt.”

  Brown Dress and the Princesse de Lamballe seemed to be too busy coquettishly hiding behind their fans and fluttering their eyelashes at the other men to notice the change in the princess’s demeanor.

  “Wonderful. See you then,” he replied in his winded tone. He clumsily returned the old-fashioned hat to his head, nearly falling off his speckled brown horse in the process. A little giggle escaped the princess’s sealed lips.

  Louise bit her lip, wondering what French royal family she was dining with who could be so peculiar.

  With that awkward spectacle, he and the rest of his hunting party rode off into the woods in a cloud of dust and the cacophony of yapping dogs.

  CHAPTER 15

  “I suppose that I must get prepared to welcome the foreign court. We shall postpone our games until tomorrow,” the princess announced in a somber tone that sounded as though she were getting ready for a funeral, not a party. The sun was shining high in
the cloudless sky and it appeared to be the middle of the afternoon. Wasn’t the party tonight? How long did this girl take to get ready?

  “Let me accompany you,” the Princesse de Lamballe offered eagerly, rising to her feet. She seemed to want any excuse to be of service to her. As she waved her fan, Louise could make out her flushed pink cheeks and easy smile. The Princesse de Lamballe smoothed down her fluttering spring green chiffon dress, and the two girls linked arms like they were best friends.

  “Merci beaucoup, my dear heart. We will see you, Gabrielle, and Madame Adelaide this evening at half past seven. Please don’t be late.” She bid au revoir to Louise and the other woman, who was apparently named Adelaide. Louise was expected at a fancy party for royalty and foreign dignitaries. How cool was that? In the course of a few hours and quite possibly a few hundred years, her social life had suddenly gotten way more exciting.

  The girls left the garden with Macaroon and the other little dogs loyally trailing after them. Louise realized she was now seated alone at the table with this other woman, who on closer inspection looked old enough to be Louise’s mother. She was looking at her in a way that made Louise feel like she had spinach stuck between her two front teeth.

  “Perhaps I should be going as well,” Louise finally announced, feeling uncomfortable under her companion’s silent, penetrating gaze. She began collecting the crumb-dusted plates to clear the table, a habit ingrained from her other life, where mothers expected their children to do that sort of thing, but she stopped abruptly when she saw the woman’s confused look. Louise carefully set down the tower of teacups, realizing that if she was at a palace, there were probably people who were supposed to do this for them.

  As if on cue, the woman in the apron who had announced teatime earlier walked out of the playhouse carrying a large empty silver tray and a starched white dish towel draped over her arm along with three other women in matching scarlet-and-silver uniforms trailing behind her. Whoever this Gabrielle was, she definitely did not do dishes. Therefore Louise had to remember that she no longer did dishes, and that probably applied to all other chores as well. Nice. She could get used to this.

  “We shall go together; our apartments are adjoining. It only makes sense.”

  Arghh, great. She was never going to be able to lose this lady. On the other hand, Louise rationalized, it was good to have someone lead her to Gabrielle’s room, as she had absolutely no idea how to get there. Judging by the enormous size of these grounds, she could be walking around lost all day, and this was a party she did not want to miss.

  “The dauphine always looks so beautiful, does she not?” Madame Adelaide asked as she closed the tall iron-and-gold gate leading to the grand playhouse. They strolled together through the magnificent gardens.

  Dauphine? What or who was that? Louise had to assume she was talking about the princess.

  “Yes, she does,” she enthusiastically agreed.

  “It’s a shame that it can’t last forever,” Adelaide remarked cryptically, sneaking a look over at Louise as if to gauge her reaction.

  “Yes, it is,” Louise agreed again, for lack of something better to say. What did that mean? She really did not want to make small talk with this woman for fear of saying the wrong thing, and besides, she was more than a little distracted by the fabulous landscape she was walking through.

  Louise took in a deep breath of sweet lilac- and honeysuckle-scented fresh air. These gardens were like no others she had seen before. They were much more organized than the loose, wild-hamlet feeling of Petit Trianon. Rows of topiary trees were pruned into neat geometric shapes. They walked quietly down a wide, white-pebbled path lining a vast carpet of neatly trimmed grass, past dozens of gleaming marble urns and statues, perfectly carved figures that looked like they belonged in a museum, not on a garden road. Creamy marble benches were placed periodically next to the paths underneath poplar trees so that one could sit in the shade and admire the beds of blooming roses and jasmine alongside reflecting pools. She heard chirping songbirds and rushing water spurting from the numerous fountains. There was a slight rustling in the bushes, and Louise thought she caught a glimpse of that same cute gardener darting behind a topiary bush. She certainly wouldn’t mind running into him again. Maybe he would have some insight into exactly who Louise, or rather, this Gabrielle woman, was.

  They eventually arrived at two enormous rectangular pools of water, larger than any Olympic-size swimming pool Louise had ever swum in (although obviously these were more for decoration than swim practice). Four bronze statues of some mythological figures adorned the corners of each pool. The afternoon sun reflecting off each body of water was almost blinding. She shaded her eyes with her hand and slowly looked up to behold the most magnificent palace she had ever laid eyes on.

  She heard her companion take in a sharp breath, apparently also overwhelmed by the beauty, even though unlike Louise she must have seen it at least a thousand times before.

  “Versailles,” Adelaide swooned. “Isn’t it the most incredible vision?”

  Versailles. Where have I heard that word before? Louise found herself wondering again. This was by far the most enormous and imposing structure she had ever encountered. The grand limestone castle seemed to go on in both directions for eternity. Massive arched, gold-paned windows with stately balconies that were flanked by ornate marble columns and classical statues ran along the upper and lower levels. Uniformed guards stood at rapt attention along the perimeter of the building.

  Louise, mouth agape, looked as if she were trying to take in all the grandeur and beauty through her open lips. “Oh, yes,” she finally answered. “This was truly worth the journey.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Louise tried to keep up with Adelaide as they walked swiftly through the vast marble hallway to their wing of the palace while still attempting to check out all the fresco-painted ceilings, ornate wall detailing, and massive oil paintings. The enormous scale of the rooms and impressive art collection covering every available surface made her feel like she was walking through the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Madame Adelaide then abruptly excused herself, saying she must have forgotten her favorite silk gloves back at Petit Trianon. They must have been very special gloves, as that long walk to their apartments seemed to have taken them almost an hour.

  Louise wanted to explore the palace before the party that evening. She was suddenly living in a castle in France—how could she not have a look around? She turned in the opposite direction than the older woman’s and walked down a wide, deserted black-and-white-tiled arched hallway, her old-fashioned heeled purple mules making a satisfying clicking noise on the marble floor. Grand twenty-foot-tall arched windows lined one side of the hall, exposing a limestone terrace that overlooked a spectacular view of the gorgeous manicured gardens.

  She almost tripped over a pack of yelping little lapdogs that ran wildly past her, sliding across the slippery marble in manic pursuit of a fluffy white Persian cat that had taken off running through the gold-leaf-plated corridor. Louise pinched her nose. She was starting to feel a little woozy. There was a strong overpowering scent unique to this place—a combination of talcum powder, orange blossom, and dog poo. It seemed to be both the fanciest and dirtiest place she had ever visited.

  She peeked into the first room she came to on the right, as the door had been carelessly left slightly ajar. The doorway was so tall that Louise barely reached the gold-plated handle. She was starting to feel like a character in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. The room was plastered with a busy floral wallpaper crawling with vines and bouquets of lilies and peacock feathers that matched the embroidered pattern on the bed coverlet and fixed wall hanging behind the fabric-covered headboard. A bust of the princess was prominently displayed on the mantel of the ornate fireplace underneath an oil painting of a man with a George Washington–style hairdo who was wearing a navy-and-red uniform with gold buttons and whom Louise didn’t recognize. Two crystal chandeliers hung down low on
heavy golden chains from the oil-painted ceiling. A neoclassical-style mahogany jewelry cabinet stood against one wall right next to the faint outline of a little door that was almost completely camouflaged by the wallpaper. Louise would have to remember that secret exit if they ever played hide-and-seek in the palace.

  She was surprised to see the dauphine, which she deduced meant “princess,” standing barefoot on the shiny hardwood floor in the center of the grand room and wearing nothing more than a thin peach silk slip. Her arms were crossed protectively across her small frame, and she was surrounded by at least ten other women, including the Princesse de Lamballe, whom Louise initially recognized by her spearmint green gown now that her cherubic round face was no longer hidden behind her fan. Unlike the dauphine, all the other women were fully dressed in long dresses with wide hooped skirts and fitted bodices. The dauphine wasn’t wearing much more than a chemise. Her ashy blonde hair was pulled back in a loose braid, and she had two circles of vibrant red rouge painted on her cheeks. Louise tried not to sneeze as an overwhelming whiff of powder and floral perfume tickled her nose. One of the women helped the dauphine into an intricate corset, and another lady tightly laced it up the back. It was as though each assistant had her own particular role to play. It was all very choreographed and organized, as if they performed this ritual every day. The Princesse de Lamballe was standing ready with a luxurious red dress for the dauphine’s approval. Louise flashed back to the weird dream she had the other night of the old-fashioned women dressing her in the beautiful blue silk gown. There was something very similar about these two scenes. Maybe that crazy dream was a premonition of her time-traveling adventure to come!

  “Excusez-moi.” Louise was snapped back to her present reality as a tall older woman with a long hook nose and wearing a black feathered hat and a dark velvet cloak briskly pushed past her without a second look. The woman walked into the room, not bothering to shut the tall French doors behind her.