The Crockett Chronicles- The Complete Collection

by Jennifer Lynn Cary

  “But of course.”

  “You cannot tell anyone.” Momo’s assertive statement bounced around the room.

  “Pardonnez-moi?” Though Louise was not one to stand on position, Momo’s outburst belied a lower class than her sister.

  “Mademoiselle, I am sorry for Momo’s bluntness. You have been nothing but courteous to me. I am sorry to surprise you with this. Her Majesty would not understand my need to leave in the middle of my duty. I would be in much trouble should it be discovered. Could you please pretend Momo is me until I return? No one can tell us apart.” She glanced at her sister. “Usually. So, as long as you do not say anything, we should not be found out. Please?” Mimi’s eyes grew round with fear.

  “Of course, I will help you.” Louise reached for Mimi’s hand. “Is there not something more I can do? What seems to be the problem? Is it one of your sisters? Or your parents?”

  “No, you are kind—”

  Momo cut her off. “It is none of your concern.”

  “Momo! Mademoiselle de Saix has only been kind and considerate to me. I will not have you speak with such rudeness. Her word is good. She will not give us away.” For a moment Mimi’s gaze left her sister and stared back at Louise, begging for affirmation to her statement of faith.

  There was never a question that Louise would help. Mimi had befriended her and now made this request. “Momo, I will not give you away. You do not have to fear me. I know what it is like to have to take care of another person. Usually I serve as companion to my aunt. This is a very different experience for me, but I will not look to bring you trouble. Aside from that, Mimi was the first to befriend me here at Versailles. I would not want to cause her trouble. You can trust me.” Louise held out her other hand to the girl.

  Momo looked at the proffered hand and to her sister, whose eyes gleamed with tears. Biting her lip, she returned a steady gaze to Louise, but never offered her hand. “Can you remember to call me Mimi?”

  “I will try.” Louise smiled, drawing her fingers back to her skirt.

  “Bon.” Mimi visibly relaxed and dropped Louise’s other hand. She moved to the bed, turning down the bedclothes.

  “Are you sure there is nothing else I can do for you?” Now worry began to set in. There must be something very wrong for Mimi to attempt such a risk.

  “Oui, I am quite sure, but merci. I will return as soon as I can, and I will not leave until you are asleep so I will know you are comfortable.”

  “Oh, there is no need—”

  Despite Louise’s protests, Mimi insisted. “This is how we planned it, only you were not to find out. I am relieved that you know. It is one less thing off my mind. So, if I may help you out of your gown, Momo can put your things away. Then we will step out while you say your evening prayers.”

  Louise agreed.

  Soon, alone and on her knees beside the spacious bed, Louise dutifully went through her catechism of evening confession and prayer. As usual, it felt inadequate. Did God really hear her? Was she doing this the correct way? Thinking of Mimi and her sisters, she wondered again what could be so important to put the kind maid at such risk. It must be most urgent to Mimi since her sisters were staying here in her stead.

  Louise spoke a blessing on Mimi and her family. Her mind drifted to Monsieur, and she said a sincere thank you for the evening, spoke a brief prayer for him, and closed with “Amen.”

  After finishing her evening toilet, she climbed into bed and quickly drifted off. Somewhere, as if in a dream, a soft touch brushed her shoulder, and she heard Mimi’s whisper. “I will soon return, Mademoiselle. I promise.”

  * * *

  Louise floated again. The air on her face felt cool, but as she allowed herself to sink into the cloud, she warmed. Peering over the side, she again noted the sparkling blue mirror far below surrounded by a sea of green treetop islands. The birds’ wings shimmered in the bright light and the fragrance of roses wafted through the petal soft breeze. How pleasant and peaceful to just drift away through time and space.

  Sounds came to her ears—the gentle whoosh as glimmering feathers thrust ethereal winds down and away, a distant splash of a fish breaking the surface of the mirror into billions of shards that quickly repaired itself, her own heart pulsating to the rhythm of the breeze. She could not imagine anything more tranquil or soothing.

  Louise rolled onto her back. The stars twinkled high above. Something about the incongruity of the light to dark seemed strange, but it did not bother her. The universe all made perfect sense, and she watched, mesmerized, as the constellations joined into sparkling works of art, separated into a dance of their own making only to join again, each picture more exquisite than the last. Sighing, she knew she was smiling. She felt beautiful and a part of the beauty around her.

  Louise rolled back onto her stomach. The night became day again. Looking forward, she noticed something brilliantly blinding in the distance. The cloud began to pick up speed. The beat of her heart picked up in kind. Something inside her whispered of danger, but she could not put a name to the peril.

  Then she heard it again—the whinny—and looked to see the winged horse and rider headed in her direction. Excitement rose in her chest, but not from the danger ahead. There was something stirring about the rider.

  Eagerly, Louise tried to reach out to him. She wanted to grasp his hand, to see who called to her. Her arm stretched as far as she dared. Her brain told her to wait for him, but her excited heart overrode common sense. She stretched out even farther and . . .

  Thump!

  Louise landed in a heap. On the cold floor of her darkened room. Amid the hallowed halls of Versailles.

  Her hip must be bruised, but not as much as her heart and sensibilities. The dream had been so real. How stupid to fall like that. All the emotions that had flamed before still smoldered within her. Her cheeks were hot enough to glow in the dark. Realizing she was alone in the big room, she did not know whether to feel grateful or abandoned.

  Gingerly she rose and found she could stand and walk about. Nothing broken, thankfully. Louise felt her way to the velvet drapes and tentatively parted them. The waxing moon shone distant in the lightened sky. Far over on the other side of the gardens it seemed bright as day, while the area near her side of the chateau lay shrouded.

  There was also movement throughout the gardens and near the fountain. She could hear no noise but could make out activity. Not exactly animated, it was more like shadows moving with continued steady purpose.

  “Whatever could be happening down there?” If it were not for the coolness of the flooring beneath her feet, she would have been sure she still dreamed.

  Louise padded across the room and tried her door. It soundlessly opened. She peeked into the empty corridor. Trimmed sconces gave off a soft glow, creating a surreal, but inviting effect. Did she dare explore the chateau? If she did, could she find her way back?

  She looked at her rumpled bed. It did not invite as before. So be it. She would just take a little walk. Only, how did she make sure to return to the correct bedchamber?

  Her gaze lighted on the dim outline of Monsieur de Crocketagné’s rose in the pitcher. If it had been on the other side of her bed, she would have never noticed it in the faintly lit room. She also would have probably hit it when she fell. The pitcher would have been in ruins and her feet bloody ribbons. “I do not know why you take such good care of me,” she whispered to her guardian angel, “but I am grateful you do.”

  The hall remained quiet and empty. She tied the belt of her wrapper about her as she went out, dropping a petal of the rose onto the side of the corridor and moving in silence down the passage. With the construction going on she feared becoming lost. Therefore, every time the hall turned, she dropped another petal. When she ran out of petals, she would have to go back.

  She strained to hear any sound. At one point, a door creaked. Flattening herself against the wall, she waited. One of the elegantly dressed men from the evening’s party tiptoed down the c
orridor in front of her, and with shoes in his hand, slipped without a sound into a room twenty yards ahead.

  Louise could guess what was going on but was sure she was not supposed to have seen him. She counted to ten under her breath and then resumed her quiet walk. After about five minutes, she was down to her last petal.

  “Louise.”

  Jumping in her skin, Louise spun around and gasped. “Oh! Your Majesty!” She pulled at her wrapper, making sure it revealed nothing, and smoothed her hand over her hair.

  “What are you doing?” His question held no rancor, but his presence made her nervous.

  “I am sorry, did I do something wrong?” The rose’s stem bent and snapped in her fluttering hands. “I awoke and was unable to go back to sleep, so I thought to take a small walk, but then I was afraid I would not be able to find my way back, and then I noticed the rose in my room and thought I could leave a trail back, so I decided to give it a try and . . .” Breathe, ninny.

  “Ho!” His Majesty held his hands in surrender. “You are welcome to be here. You are my guest.” His fingers fluttered about his chin, and his eyes narrowed. “I generally enjoy a small meal about this time of night. Would you like to accompany me to my suite? We can see what has been delivered.”

  “Oui, merci beaucoup, Your Majesty.” Louise looked down at her hands. The shreds of rose stem lay mangled in her hands. “Oh, no, I had better not.” Her cheeks warmed to the inevitable blush. “I do not think I could find my way back if I went any farther.”

  The king laughed. “I assure you I will not let you become lost. Please, honor me with your presence at my nocturnal repast.” He proffered a gallant arm.

  It would be nice to have someone to talk with. Louise shyly linked her arm with that of His Majesty and proceeded to his suite.

  The room they entered was his living quarters. She noted a lounge with a few chairs, several bookcases, and a small table with papers stacked next to a silver, filigreed ink well.

  Cold pheasant, truffles, a large chunk of ham, and a vessel of wine lay assembled in the center of a small dining table set for only one. Louise could not have eaten that much food in a week.

  His Majesty pulled a ribbon of deep green on the wall, and a valet entered immediately.

  “Set another place for my guest.” His Majesty spoke and it was so.

  The valet held the chair for her. Before she could protest, her plate and goblet had been filled. Now she was certain she was dreaming. Amazed at the efficiency of the valet, awed by the opulence of the room, and overwhelmed by the presence of the king, Louise knew nothing of this kind of life. How had she found herself here?

  “Eat. The pheasant is excellent.” The king picked up a great hunk of the meat with his hands, bit off a mouthful, and smiled broadly.

  Louise giggled and mimicked her cousin. The pheasant was as delicious as he had stated, and she took another bite. She had not realized how hungry she was until the flavorful meat touched her lips. None of her new dresses would fit if she continued to eat this way.

  His Majesty laughed at her contented sigh.

  “It is excellent, Your Majesty.” She dabbed her mouth between bites. “Merci beaucoup.”

  “My pleasure. Try the wine. It also is excellent and comes from one of my vineyards in Bordeaux.”

  Louise took the goblet into her hand, sensed the sweet bouquet of the ruby liquid, and held a sip in her mouth to savor the elegance. Although she did not often imbibe, her father had taught her the fine art of wine tasting. She recognized a great wine when she encountered it, and this wine was truly excellent. As the velvety fluid went smoothly down her throat, she savored the superb flavor on her tongue a moment before taking another bite of the appetizing food.

  “Ma amie, you are enjoying your meal, no?” The king wiped his sleeve across his mouth. “What of the rest of your trip? Have you enjoyed your time here at the chateau? I trust Monsieur de Crocketagné is entertaining you.”

  “Oh, oui, your Majesty. I am having a wonderful time. Monsieur de Crocketagné has been the perfect escort.” The warmth creeping up her neck was not from the wine. The handsome face of Monsieur with his kind eyes sparkling flashed in her brain. “We went for a walk after the play tonight. He showed me the gardens and your Majesty’s newest fountain. I must say, it is breathtaking in the moonlight. I am so pleased I can see it from my window.”

  “Then I, too, am pleased.”

  They continued eating in silence. Louise could feel His Majesty staring at her. Each time she looked up, however, he seemed intent on his food. It unnerved her. But then he was the king.

  After a few more bites of the meal and half of her goblet of wine, her eyelids grew heavy and sleep began to overtake her.

  His Majesty noticed and pulled on the velvet cord. The valet reappeared, and the king instructed him to escort Mademoiselle back to her chamber.

  “Ma amie, I can see you are tired. I hope the food and wine bring you pleasant dreams.” His Majesty enveloped her in a fatherly hug.

  “Merci, Your Majesty. I wish you the same.”

  Louise followed the valet out of the royal chambers and back to her own room. As she snuggled under the covers, she giggled. She would have to write Matthew in the morning. He would never believe this. A midnight meal with the king. Oh my! And he had thought she would not even see His Majesty while at Versailles. Oui, she definitely would have to tell Matthew.

  Chapter Five

  Louise awoke to Momo opening the velvet drapes and taking care of the housekeeping duties that awaited her.

  “Good morning, Mademoiselle.” Perfunctory, if not friendly. “May I assist you with anything?”

  “Good morning to you, Mo . . . Mimi.” Louise caught herself. She knew no one else was in the room but was determined to do her best not to give her maid away. Therefore, she had decided to refer to Momo as Mimi in all situations until Mimi returned. She hoped it would keep her from slipping up in an embarrassing situation. “I believe I am satisfactory for the moment. I would like to wash my face and get my hair out of my eyes, and I need an opportunity to say my morning prayers. Other than getting dressed after that, I have no plans. Do you know of an itinerary for today?”

  “I have not been informed. I assume Monsieur de Crocketagné will arrive soon. What would you like me to lay out for you today?”

  “Perhaps my riding costume would be a good idea. I have been considering what His Majesty said about his stable. I should like to become acquainted with it I think.” Louise smiled, imagining a ride on one of His Majesty’s renowned horses. When Momo did not return the smile, though, she questioned her decision. “Do you agree, or do you have a better idea?”

  “This is your day. I am only here to serve. If you want your riding costume, you shall have your riding costume.”

  The young woman turned away to the armoire.

  How could someone be so identical and yet so different from her twin? “I am sorry, Momo, if I have offended you in some way . . .”

  Momo spun around. “I knew you could not remember. Already, you have had to correct yourself once and you did not even try to say Mimi this last time.”

  “But you are the one to whom I am speaking. You have been abrupt since we met. I do not know what I have done to offend you, but I would like to know. I would never purposefully offend you or your sister.”

  “How would I know that?” Momo’s fists clenched and unclenched at her sides. “I do not know you, and yet my sister chooses to put our lives into your hands. This is not some silly little game we are playing. If we were to get caught, it would mean extreme difficulty for our whole family and others we care about.” She turned back to the armoire. The maid’s back remained rigid, hard.

  “Why will you not let me help you?”

  “Why would you even want to?” When Momo turned back to Louise, her eyes glistened, but no tears ran down her cheeks. “When we speak of my family, we are speaking of a middle-class merchant whose daughters are allowed to work at
Versailles only due to a favor the king’s father granted to my grandfather. Ah, but you, when you speak of family, you can even include His Majesty Louis XIV, the Sun King, in your little genealogy.” She swiped at a stray lock dangling over her forehead. “We are not of the same class, and you have no inkling of what life is like for us.” Momo snorted. “Yet you want to be my friend. How sweet. I cannot even call you by name. What kind of a friend is that?”

  Louise opened her mouth and then shut it. She had no words. The accusations were true enough, although a bit out of context. It did not matter that she already felt awkward at the class distinctions. Momo was not ready to hear any of that.

  Blinking rapidly, Louise turned away to the nightstand, feeling for something to hold back her hair. With the ribbon tied, she poured clean water from the pitcher and splashed her face. Hot tears ran down her cheeks mingling in the basin’s tepid water. She splashed a bit more vigorously and felt for the towel. Nothing but air met her blind search. Then at once the absorbent cloth was thrust into her hand.

  Louise dried her face and looked up to see Momo. Their gazes locked. A silent truce declared.

  Momo laid out the riding costume and left Louise to her morning prayers.

  Kneeling by the bed, Louise tried to put her mind on things holy, desperately wanting to be good and loved by God. Confused, she was sure she must have done something dreadful for Momo to react in such a manner. However, she had no idea of what it could have been. Last night had been so lovely. A bright light in a rather closed and secluded life. Goodness! She had even spoken with strangers about things she held tight in her heart.

  Wrapping her arms about her, she pondered the thought. Perhaps that was the problem. Could God be punishing her for letting her guard down?