I would have slapped him if the action wouldn’t have stabbed me in the gut. Instead I sat comfortably in his strong, soldierly embrace as he carried me silently back through another hallway to my actual bedroom. I couldn’t believe how off course I had been…probably wouldn’t have made it back into my room at all. And where were the servants to guide us? Probably drunk, I thought spitefully.
When we finally reached my room, Bastien knocked quietly, and my maid answered.
“What’s happened?! Mlle J, are you alright?” my maid bustled and panicked as Bastien strolled right into my bedroom for the second time that night and laid me gently on my bed. I could have died, and if anyone had seen us I would never recover from the scandal. I avoided his gaze as much as possible, acutely aware of just how inappropriate the situation was, and still just drunk enough not to care. Bastien took the trouble to tell my maid that my corset was digging into my side before making a last attempt at conversation.
“Well my lady…I’m glad to see your honor intact.”
“You mean the honor that is still at risk by you standing in my bedroom at the crack of dawn? Please take care that no one sees you leave this place as you exit.”
He frowned. What was he expecting? To be treated like an equal to me? He waited for the beat of a moment before turning to make his exit. Even still…
“Bastien?” I said, meeting his eyes for the first time since we came in. He waited.
“Thank you. For what you did. It was most gallant of you,” I said quietly, all contrition. Regardless of the fact that I was supposed to treat him as an inferior, he still provided me a great service that night. I also found that I didn’t really want him to go, which was an entirely new sensation for me. He gazed down upon me, an inner battle waging in his eyes. He then fell to one knee by my bedside and spoke fervently.
“I know that you think your birth has placed you above all others, and I know you’ve been raised to think that way. Still, I see someone more behind your eyes, someone of value. I hope that someday, you will grow to see that woman as well.”
Rising from his knees, Bastien then made his final exit, my bewildered gaze on his broad, masculine back. Even as my maid began to unlace the dress from my body, relieving my inner organs and allowing me to breathe freely, I stared at my closed door.
And I wondered—could he be right?
Chapter Four
Gossip
I woke to a fervent knocking on my door. The midday sun glared through my gossamer curtains, and I winced at the light before rolling onto my stomach with a pillow over my head. With a burst my bedroom door flew open, and in came Jacqueline, all dressed for afternoon tea.
“J! Are you still asleep—how can you sleep at all? My brother told me you were attacked last night!”
She had entirely too much energy for someone coming off of an all-night party. I cracked open an eye at her, realizing that I didn’t remember falling asleep or washing up. I could now tell that my face had been scrubbed, though a clump of eye makeup still clung stubbornly to my lid, making it hard to blink. My maid came in right behind Jacqueline, fervent apologies tossed at me and glares of disapproval cast at Jacqueline. To my surprise, I was actually amused by this.
“Why on earth are you smiling? You could have been ruined! And of course the marquis is telling everyone what a slut you are.”
This sank in slowly through my clouded, hungover brain, but when it did…
“What?!”
Jacqueline wore a mixture of concern and delight on her face, which was annoying. She looked far more excited at being the first to tell me than she was sympathetic to my plight. She continued, breathless.
“Oh yes. The minute everyone woke up he’s been spreading the tale of how you tried to seduce him in a corridor, and how Bastien had to drag you to your bedroom, and that no one knows whether or not he stayed the night…”
“Enough!” I cried, desperate for a moment’s peace. So the whole court knew that I was a whore, did they? I wondered dismally what the queen thought…my second day at Versailles and already a horrible reputation. And how had the marquis known that I had been carried to my room? Panic began to blossom in my chest, tears threatening to wail their way out. Jacqueline’s expression had turned helpless, and of course there was nothing she could do. We would be the two most unpopular women at court, I was sure of it. She reached out to stroke my back gently.
“It’ll be alright, J. We’ll just endure this piece of gossip until the next thing happens. People love the next big story,” she cajoled, her eyes wide with panic and sympathy. I moaned into the pillow, my head pounding. I would never leave the room again. After a few minutes, Jacqueline sighed.
“You know if you hide from them, they’ll just believe the marquis, right? You are above his rank in every possible way. You must put yourself together and stand your ground,” she said quietly. I tilted my body so that I could look up at her. Staring down at her hands, she made no move to return my gaze. I found my voice.
“That’s what you do, isn’t it? Every day you are berated and teased, and you just take it,” I said, the wonder seeping its way from my heart and into my feeble mind. This girl that I had already insulted, already cast judgment upon, sat inside herself every day just hoping that someday her perseverance would pay off and she would be accepted by the court. Looking at her from this angle, she had three chins, and dots of sweat prickled her upper lip. In a shallow world, she would hold no place beyond that of court jester.
I sighed, suddenly deeply depressed for us both, but knowing that she was absolutely right. Without coming out in complete confidence, no one would believe me to be the perfectly virginal aristocrat that I was. And let’s not forget how much better I was than everyone else, thanks to my money. Slowly, very slowly, I placed my hands palm down beneath me and rose to a sitting position on my bed, scooting over to sit next to Jacqueline. Still unable to look me in the eye, she asked, “Did my brother really save you last night, J?”
I couldn’t help myself. I reached over and grasped her hands, squeezing my friendship into them. Finally, she looked up, her expression unreadable.
“Yes,” I said. “He was excellent. And I was horrible. Seems to be a theme with us,” I finished lamely, an attempt to lighten a horrible situation. She smirked.
“He likes you, you know. I’ve never seen him stop in his tracks like that for anyone, and he stared at you the whole night while you were dancing. That’s probably how he knew the marquis was on your trail.”
I squashed down the guilt I felt at her words…especially because it mingled with a much stronger emotion that I was uncomfortable with. Instead of responding, I straightened out my nightgown and began to rise, my maid taking the cue that it was time to prep me for afternoon tea.
“Where will we be facing the day then?” I asked, slipping into my usual routine of being waited on hand and foot, every demand answered without question. Jacqueline rose as well, taking the hint and preparing her departure…though suspicion had snuck its way into her eyes. I ignored it.
“Out by the fountains, they’ve set up some tents and tables. I believe the queen herself might even stop in,” she finished excitedly. I squared my shoulders, preparing for the worst.
“Well then, if you’ll excuse me. I have some prep work to do.”
***
A while later, dressed in my most flattering afternoon gown—a lighter piece of delicate white with pink roses sewn into the sleeves and hem—I held my shoulders back and my head high as I made my way to the fountains at the back of Versailles. As I stepped from a gold plated doorway, a servant immediately arrived by my side with my matching parasol and raised it above my head. I had taken great care to powder my face a little heavier so that the bruise from the night before would not reveal itself. I walked two paces more slowly, the better to prevent sweat from giving me away through exertion.
Blinking in the sunlight, I stared out at a vast blue sky, which draped itself lovingly over t
he glittering fountains and perfectly manicured world of the palace. My shoes tread lightly on the sandy gravel, the rushing vertical waves of a circular fountain spraying me with just the smallest hint of mist. I tilted my head away from it, frightened that my makeup would smear in the droplets of spray. The main fountain itself was quite glorious—rotund, with statues of fowl and servants reaching toward a glorious woman at the peak, her benevolent hand reaching out in what I perceived to be greeting. I hoped that she was Venus, or perhaps Athena. I could use more wisdom than love at that moment.
Beyond the fountain, a small rectangle of grass stretched out, decorated on either side by more greenery and statues. Large white tents had been erected, and I could see a bountiful spread complemented by silver serving ware. My stomach growled, and though no one was around I blushed at the unladylike sound. Thanks to my heavy makeup, however, I was sure a blush would be barely detectable. Several pairs and groupings of ladies were scattered across the lawn, and I caught more than one curious glance as ladies pulled out their fans to hide their comments. I fixed my face into my favorite haughty mask and made my way to the tented area, coldly staring down anyone who did not look at me with respect.
Luckily, I found Giselle speaking with a small group near the back of the main tent, and I made my way slowly over to her. She greeted me warmly, her expression giving out no indication that my name should be anything but pristine.
“What an excellent party last night, was it not?” she asked, aglow. I smiled, wondering if she even remembered half of it. The other women in our group tittered in response, and I glared at them. The tittering ceased.
“I should say, the champagne was some of the finest I have ever tasted,” one of the women said, her powdered head bobbing in appreciation of her own sentiment. The others clucked in agreement.
“Yes, indeed. And the music—I could hardly keep myself from dancing all night! In such a lovely hall, there could have been no equal to such a party,” another woman chimed in. It was customary to love everything about Versailles and the king and queen. One could lose a life or a title otherwise.
“Of course, too much dancing and drink can give the wrong impression, don’t you think?” a voice said from behind me. Unsurprisingly, Jeannette made her way into our circle, her gaze predatory. All the other ladies began to squirm nervously, though no one moved away. They just got a front row to the current gossip…you think they’d give that up?
“Ah, Jeannette. Forgive me for observing that you look as though you celebrated just a tad too much, my poor thing,” I said, trying to think of how I could out-catty her and still keep my integrity. Nothing particularly useful came to mind, and I could tell she was ready to throw me under a carriage.
“Not at all, though I thank you deeply for your concern my dear, dear friend. Of course, now that we all know how promiscuous you are, with your title and status, I’m sure there might be a new opening for you as the king’s new mistress.”
I kept my face perfectly still, affecting a tinkling laugh. It worked…she frowned, and I could feel the group’s eagerness to hear what I had to say.
“You must be mistaken, my sweet, darling friend. I am as virginal now as I have ever been, and whoever says otherwise will surely enjoy the tip of my father’s sword and the heavy weight his position implies.” I wanted the threat to be clear…even if it was a bald-faced lie. My father never lifted a sword in his life, much less fought anyone. He paid people to do that.
“I see,” she said through clenched teeth. “My mistake then. Must be some false rumors going around about my lovely friend, here,” she said, addressing the group. Her expression did not match her words. “I’m sure there was simply a misunderstanding. And certainly no reason to pack on extra makeup like a whore. We are all of us delicate and upstanding ladies of the court, and I am glad to know you all,” she finished, her dagger driven home as she curtsied and made her exit. I glanced around to find everyone staring at my face…not me, but my face and the makeup that caked my cheeks. I was saved from having to find a way to defend myself by the bell, which signaled the start of the meal.
The queen had not deigned to come, as she was still in bed recovering from the night’s festivities. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or not. Perhaps if I could gain her friendship then no one would question my honor. I frowned as I watched every lady in the group strategically move away from me, until Jacqueline and Giselle were all I had left. Jacqueline gave me an encouraging smile, which I did not return, and we all sat to recover from a night of partying. Delicious pastries and meats were served out with tea and cool water. I listened to the chatter going around the table about the latest designs in fashion and who was using Belgian lace. The glances cast my way in between these pieces of small talk were enough to put an end to my appetite, though I continued to eat anyway. Nothing could be shown to be wrong.
“Would you like to go riding with me today, J?” Jacqueline asked between large bites of sausage and pastry. She had a clump of crumbs at the corner of her mouth that she had yet to dab, so I made a gesture encouraging her to do so. She jumped in her seat before grasping at her napkin and doing her best to delicately wipe them away. Unfortunately, Jacqueline was anything but delicate, and I found myself wishing that she wouldn’t try so hard to be something she was not. With no other offers to pass the time that afternoon—what a surprise—I quickly agreed.
I kept up the pretense of confidence all the way back to my rooms, in spite of the fact that few people bothered to pretend that they didn’t believe the marquis’ story. I sat on the edge of my bed, dismissing my maids and closing the door. Finally alone, I glanced about my perfect room, with its cozy fireplace and delicate chandeliers, golden candlesticks and rich fabrics. I began to wonder at how I had so much, and yet so little. At the flick of a gossiping tongue, my friendships were dissolving, my reputation gleefully exploited.
A hot tear ran down my painted cheek, leaving a long streak of peach down my unnaturally whitened face. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and made my way slowly to my vanity and sat down on the delicately padded chair. Pouring some water into a china bowl, I grasped a cloth and began to firmly wipe the makeup away, staring at myself in bewilderment once I finished mopping it all up. In all honestly, I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t been powdered and painted to look my best. As I looked at my true self in the mirror, I found that I liked her better, bruise and all.
I lived in a world where a woman was a second-class human being, a baby doll to be played with by the men who ruled the world. We catered to their desire to have us as they would see fit, dressed up and kept in our gilded dollhouses, toyed with slightly and then left on the shelf. And never, until that very moment, had I ever been dissatisfied with that life. I allowed tears to sink to the ground, admiring the natural shine they produced in my normally icy blue eyes, and I remembered what Bastien had said.
I see someone more behind your eyes, someone of value. I hope that someday, you will grow to see that woman as well.
I wiped the tears away, packing the new emotions deep down with them. Regardless of how I may have felt, it did not change how I would be treated if I were to give up the person that I was perceived to be. I called in my maid to reapply my makeup and prepare me for the afternoon ride.
“This time, apply a little less everywhere but on the bruise,” I said. I knew that whoever I wanted to be around Bastien and Jacqueline, I would be better suited being a little closer to myself.
Chapter Five
A Ride in the Woods
I met Jacqueline and Bastien at the stables just as a few clouds drifted over the sun. Both of them seemed in high spirits, excited to be out in the woods. I tried to ignore the meaningful glance Bastien gave my patched up face, concern etched in his downcast brows. Still, I was nothing if not able to distract and pull out new conversation.
“Do you ride often, Bastien?” I asked after being handed onto my horse and taking the reins. He nodded, taking up his own
and falling in next to me.
“I am well accustomed to riding, as part of my military training,” he said, glancing down affectionately at his steed and stroking the beast’s mane. A spike of jealously ran through me, directed at the animal, and I laughed inwardly at myself for being so absurd.
“You miss it, don’t you?” I asked, redirecting his attention to me.
“I do,” he confessed. “I find that when men are stationed together in situations of life or death, they treat each other as equals, and the veil of propriety falls away.”
“You speak of propriety as though it is one of the seven sins,” I teased, though he did not look amused.
“And what if I do? Have you had the pleasure of reading the works of Rousseau, J?”
I searched my brain, knowing that I had no recollection of that name. Without anything to go on, I had to admit my ignorance.
“I’ve not had the pleasure, no,” I said, embarrassed at my lack of knowledge. That was new. He nodded, as though this was a common answer among women.
“He has published his philosophy that humans should go back to their natural roots—that all the clothing we constrict ourselves with and the manners that cloak our true intentions are in fact the chains that keep us from the happiness we seek as part of the human condition.”
The man was making me think. Like, actually think. Trying to rise to his challenge, and wanting to impress him, I decided to give it a shot.
“So you would have us all walking around in the nude as our statues are wont to do?” I asked playfully. I was rewarded with a smirk.
“I wouldn’t disagree with it, though there are many gentlemen and women that I would prefer not to observe in their altogether.”
“I quite agree with you,” I said.
“That would be a first,” he replied.
“I think it would be quite funny to see everyone walking around naked,” Jacqueline announced, breaking the little bubble Bastien and I had sunk into. She giggled at her declaration, and Bastien and I shared an indulgent smile. If anything, we shared an affection for Jacqueline’s innocent and honest manner.
Past Lives Page 3