Between (6 page)

“
La Palace de Versailles?
You’ve been there? And you’ve met King Louis XIV?”

“
Aye, I have. Did ye want to go?” he asked in a casual tone. I squealed and flung my arms around his neck. He lifted me easily in his strong arms and swung me in circles, laughing as I grinned at him with unrestrained enthusiasm. When he set me on my feet, I was practically dancing with excitement.

“
When can we go? Should we ride back to the château?” My eyes darted around the clearing, looking for the horse. I found him still munching grass and he glanced up at me and shook his mane, whinnying.

“
We can go anytime you like, love. I can just cast the memory and we’re there. Still…” his voice trailed off as his gaze swept over my pink shirt and beige slacks. “Maybe we should get ready for the ball first, aye?”

The clearing washed away like a ruined painting—blanket, basket, horse and all. I blinked to focus my eyes and the château appeared, with two majestic black horses standing patiently before an old fashioned carriage. I glanced up at Aiden and my hand flew to my mouth as a giggle escaped me.

He was wearing a forest green jacket, ornately decorated with golden embroidery. Shining buttons ran down the front and the sleeves flared in wide cuffs at his wrists. A white scarf was tied around his neck and tucked into the front of his coat. Billowing culottes peeked out from under the heavy coat, tied at the knees with elaborate bows. His legs were encased in tights that matched his jacket and ended in black shoes with square toes and two-inch heels.

The
pièce de résistance
however, was the curly powdered wig that flowed over his shoulders. He looked completely regal and absolutely ridiculous. I struggled to stifle the giggles and he glared down at me, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

“
What’s so funny? Don’t you like my
costume
? This is very fashionable,
haute couture
, I assure ye!”

Pulling myself together, I glanced down at the outfit he’d cast upon me and my laughter turned to amazement. “Oh, my goodness, Aiden, it’s beautiful!” Vertical rows of opalescent pearls adorned the bodice of my deep green ball gown, and my breasts floated above the corset in silk pockets like white candles in water. The tight sleeves ended at my elbows in ruffles of lace. White satin gloves covered the length of my forearms and an exquisite emerald bracelet encircled my left wrist.

My hair was pulled up and cascaded in bouncy ringlets down the back of my neck. The gown flared at my waist while the green silk skirt split in the front to reveal a ruffled white taffeta petticoat underneath. I twirled around, enjoying the swishing sound of the skirts, and beamed up at Aiden, no longer finding his costume quite so funny. He smiled down at me, obviously pleased at my reaction to the gown.

“
Hmm… You’re missing something.” He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a strand of iridescent pearls. An emerald hung from the center of the necklace, set into a golden replica of the sun. He affixed the necklace in place and I gazed up at him in wonder.

You are amazing.

I spoke to him with my mind and he bowed his head in acceptance of my compliment. He held out one arm to me in invitation and opened the carriage door.

“
Mademoiselle?”

With a giggle, I did my best curtsey then looped one gloved hand around his arm. Stepping through the door of the carriage was like being transported back in time as the scene changed from one he was casting now to one from his memory.

I glanced up and gasped.

A younger version of Aiden sat directly across from us, anxiously tapping his fingers on his knee. An older gentleman, whom I guessed to be Uncle Alex, sat stiffly beside him. He was somewhat portly, with squinty eyes and a bulbous nose. Yet he had an authoritative air that demanded unquestioning respect. I liked him instantly.

The carriage jerked to life and Aiden reflexively reached out an arm to steady me. The movement quickly mellowed to a bouncy, rolling gait. Uncle Alex spoke in quick bursts of French to young Aiden, who responded as if he were reciting answers to an exam. Though I didn’t follow the conversation fully, I gathered that Alex was quizzing him on appropriate behavior and what to expect once they’d arrived at the palace. I caught the name Marie Hélène de Saint-Simon as they were talking and leaned over to Aiden.

“
Who are they talking about?” I whispered as if they could hear me.

“
She was the daughter of the Duke of Saint-Simon. My uncle wanted me to make a good impression on her so that I might court her and win favor with the Duke.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. I hadn’t expected a former love interest and I found the thought both intriguing and unsettling at the same time. “And did you?” I asked.

“
Hmph. You’ll see,” he responded with a shrug.

We rode in silence while Uncle Alex peppered young Aiden with questions in French. I watched out the window in wide-eyed wonder as the carriage pulled into the palace gardens. The landscaping was completely different from the countryside, with lengthy rows of hedges and meticulously manicured bushes. Grand canals of water reflected the moonlight like mirrors. Statues of King Louis peered down at us from every angle as we proceeded toward his dwelling place. An immense fountain with a golden statue of a god-like figure on a chariot spouted water thirty feet in the air. Hunting dogs encircled him, shooting water from their mouths into the center. It was all incredibly surreal and my heart raced at the thought of what the palace itself must be like. I’d never seen anything so massive and struggled to imagine how many people lived in this palace, catering to the king’s every whim.

I can’t believe I’m really here. In Versailles.

The carriage jerked to a stop and the door was opened from the outside as we reached another set of gates. A palace guard peered inside and inquired in gruff French about our identity and business. Uncle Alex stated his name and Aiden’s and that they were guests of the king for the ball in honor of the ambassador of the Shah of Persia, Mohammed Reza Beg. It was eerie the way that the guard looked right through me as if I weren’t there. I had to remind myself that he couldn’t see me since this was simply a memory of Aiden’s projected out for me to enjoy. Satisfied, the guard waved us on and the carriage started off again.

Finally, the carriage pulled to a stop and we got out, people streaming all around us in the equestrian parade of carriages. Royal guards escorted us into the lobby, which was decorated in golden patterns covering the walls and ceiling. A magnificent marble staircase led up to the king’s quarters on one side and the queen’s quarters on the other. I thought it rather sad actually, that they had separate bedrooms. Threads of orchestral music floated over me, the violins and flutes sweetly welcoming us.

We moved with the throngs of guests and I gaped unabashedly at the splendor of the rooms, knowing no one could see me anyway. Aiden detailed the history for me as we were swept through the interior of the palace.

“
King Louis likened himself to Apollo, pagan god of the Sun, so everything is golden and reflects the sun.”

I nodded, enchanted by the statues of naked cherubs frolicking along the walls. The domed ceilings were painted with exquisite detail, some depicting heroic battle scenes of the king’s triumph over his enemies, others displaying peaceful harmony with angels and Rubenesque naked women fawning at the king’s feet. The crowd seemed to settle in as we came to
La Galerie des Glaces
—the Hall of Mirrors. My eyes welled up with tears at the beauty of the vast enclosed terrace, with its mirrored arches on one side and matching windows on the other.

The firelight from the gardens outside streamed in through the windows, reflecting in the mirrors and casting a radiant glow throughout the room. An empty throne stood at the south end of the long hall, tucked into a closed archway, stationed high on a podium overlooking the gallery. The room buzzed with excitement as the courtiers anxiously awaited the presentation of the king. My own pulse beat rapidly in anticipation, caught up in this extraordinary exhibition of wealth and power. The orchestra abruptly stopped and a hush fell over the crowd.

The king’s guards entered in a single file, assuming their places around the throne. With a grand flourish, the symphony sprang to life. King Louis appeared through the doorway and made his way up to the throne. His outfit was similar to Aiden’s, but with a fiery red coat and a brilliant blue sash across his chest. A curly brown wig reached to the middle of his back. He commanded the room with ease and I held my breath, entranced by the spectacle of the king’s power.

A murmur rippled through the crowd, and I turned to look down the opposite end of the hall. The orchestra fell silent again as a small group of men in deeply colored turbans and flowing garments appeared. I remembered Uncle Alex’s comment to the guard about the Persian ambassador to the Shah. The leader of the group had olive skin and a closely cropped beard. No hair peeked out from under his red turban. He wore a floor-length orange cloak with a fur collar. He had a majestic presence of his own, wordlessly commanding the small group of men behind him. They carried ornate shields and sabers on outstretched hands.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea, drawing to either side of the hall. A long, empty pathway stretched between the ambassador and the waiting king at the other end. All eyes followed the six Persians as they slowly made their way down the spacious room to kneel before the king. I couldn’t hear their exchange but the Persian presented several gifts, one of them a hand-woven sash. King Louis nodded grandly in acceptance and the room seemed to collectively let out its breath, relieved by the successful presentation.

The orchestra took its cue and broke into a processional march. Courtiers and noblemen in the crowd lined up behind the ambassador’s group to present themselves before the king. Uncle Alex and young Aiden took their places in the procession and we waited our turn to be seen by the king. I entertained myself by admiring the room and the period dress of the courtiers in line with us, but the progress was painstakingly slow. Both versions of Aiden looked equally bored with the queue. My ears perked up as I heard the name Marie Hélène de Saint-Simon being presented to the king several rows in front of us. Craning my neck, I tried to get a glimpse of her. Aiden glanced at me and rolled his eyes.

As she and the Duke made their way out of the hall, I caught a wave of shiny black curls sweeping out the door. I sighed, frustrated that I hadn’t been able to see her face. Aiden chuckled and shook his head.

“
Don’t fret, you’ll get to see her soon enough, though she’s not that much to see, mind ye.”

I’ll be the judge of that.

I cocked one eyebrow at him as I sent the message in my mind. He laughed heartily and squeezed my hand. I knew it was just a memory but I still found it strange that no one turned to look at us when he laughed out loud.

Finally, it was our turn to meet the king face-to-face. My pulse raced with giddy excitement. Alex bowed deeply, then presented young Aiden who quickly followed suit. The king nodded slightly from his throne, looking bored. Though I knew no one could see me, I found myself curtseying to the king and smiled as I saw Aiden bow as well, out of the corner of my eye.

The moment was over far too soon and I felt Aiden’s hand on my arm, pulling me toward the door. Reluctantly, I turned my attention away from the king and we moved into the adjoining salon where long buffet tables were piled with mountains of food. The scent of roasted meat greeted me and my stomach growled in response. I reached out to steal a piece of cheese and my hand passed right through it. I grunted in frustration.

“
We’ve gone from heaven to hell, where I can see and smell the food, but not touch it!” I complained.

Just then I caught sight of those shiny black curls again and lost all interest in the buffet. Marie Hélène was watching young Aiden with interest as he arranged bites of food onto a silver plate. She had beady eyes and a beak-like nose with thin, pale lips. Her gown was richly detailed and undoubtedly expensive, but she was very skinny and had no breasts to speak of. Relief washed over me.

She stopped next to Aiden at the buffet table. “The King is wonderful, isn’t he?” she asked in flowing French, giving him a toothy smile. Surprised, he looked up and agreed in his easy, charming manner. “
Je suis Marie Hélène de Saint-Simon
,” she introduced herself with a slight curtsy and held out her gloved hand to him expectantly.

His face fell and he froze for second in recognition of the name but then quickly regained his composure. “
Enchanté, mademoiselle.
” He bowed slightly and introduced himself, then placed a light kiss on her outstretched hand. While his head was down, her eyes lustily perused his frame and I felt a pang of jealousy.

She lowered her eyes quickly and batted her lashes at him. He took a deep breath and inquired in perfect French if she would be so kind as to dance with him at the king’s ball, since he did not have a partner. Her face lit up with excitement and she nodded enthusiastically.

As if on cue, the orchestra changed from the processional march to a lively ballroom dance tune and young Aiden offered Marie Hélène his arm in invitation. She readily accepted and they moved through the crowd back toward the Hall of Mirrors. Aiden held out his arm next to me with a smile.