Sins of Omission (20 page)

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Authors: Irina Shapiro

Tags: #Romance, #Time Travel, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Historical

BOOK: Sins of Omission
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May 1686

Paris, France

 

Chapter 34

 

I stood patiently while Sabine stuffed, laced, pinned, and tucked me into my new gown, ordered specially for the outing to Versailles.  Louis XIV decided to celebrate the arrival of fine weather by hosting a three-day event.  It began with a hunt, and would finish today with the garden party which would culminate in supper, a performance of
L’Amour Medicin
, one of Louis’s favorite Moliere plays, and a display of fireworks.  Last night we had been treated to a ballet, which to my surprise had been rather good.  I’d been amazed to find out that Louis XIV was a great admirer of ballet, and had been quite a talented dancer in his youth, performing in numerous productions himself.  I hoped that he wouldn’t be performing in the play tonight.  I was actually looking forward to it.  It’d been a long time since I had been to the theater, so this performance would be something of a treat since it would be staged by professional actors for the king’s pleasure.

I couldn’t wait to leave and return to Valentine.  Elodie’s sister, who had a six-month-old baby, agreed to stay at our Paris residence and act as wet-nurse to Valentine, but I still fretted non-stop that the baby wasn’t well looked after or not getting enough to eat.  I would have happily declined the invitation, but one didn’t just say no to the king of France, especially when one was a disgraced exile in desperate need of the monarch’s favor.  I’d mentioned my reservations to Hugo, but he just shook his head before I’d even finished the sentence, letting me know that my objections were futile. 

Strangely, Frances had been invited as well, so I was glad to at least have an ally in the strange universe of the Court.  Frances had been nearly speechless with the grandeur of it all, and not a little subdued, having spent most of her life in one form of isolation or another, but she had been welcomed by Louis’s courtiers with something akin to wonder, and I was happy to see her enjoying herself.  Luke was there as well, so Frances had a ready escort and friend.  As an admirer, Luke was expected to pay court to Frances and be within her orbit most of the time, but as my husband, Hugo was expected to converse and socialize with others and ignore me almost completely.  To speak to one’s own wife was the height of bad manners, which left me to fend for myself.

I’d managed to survive the first two days without incident, mostly because I’d been able to escape to our room for short periods of time and go for walks in the lavish grounds, but today would be the hardest since the festivities would last all day long, and I would have to spend hours in the company of Louis’s courtiers.  The prospect of leaving in the morning lifted my spirits, so I graciously allowed Sabine to powder my hair and apply some rouge before allowing Hugo to escort me to the terrace where liveried servants were dispensing glasses of champagne and various hors d’oeuvres.  I gratefully accepted a glass and watched with some amusement as one of the ladies made a face of horror as the bubbles went up her nose.  Champagne was a relatively new experience for them since it hadn’t been served at Court for long, having only gained popularity in the past few decades.  I took a sip and looked around.  The manicured gardens were decorated for the fete with flowers, ribbons, and colorful lanterns, which would be lit in the evening.  Each lantern had a little candle inside which would make it look like a firefly once it got dark and the flame flickered inside the colored orb.  Tables had been set up outside, and a makeshift stage had been erected for the performance of whatever masque was to take place for the guests’ entertainment before the play. 

Gaily dressed courtiers walked among the trimmed hedges, their colorful attire a nice counterpoint to the greenery all around them.  I regretfully let go of Hugo as he was approached by several men who wished to speak to him, and walked toward the fountain where a number of people were congregating.  I had no desire to speak to any of them, but to wander around by myself would be seen as standoffish.  I was taken completely by surprise when a deep voice called to me from behind.

“Madame Everly, what a pleasure to see you looking so lovely.  Are you enjoying the gardens?”

I turned around to find myself facing Louis himself, accompanied by two ladies, one of them Madame de Maintenon, who was rumored to be Louis’s secret wife.  She was a charming brunette with wide dark eyes that showed intelligence and humor.  Out of all the courtiers, she had been kindest to me, and I returned her smile, which seemed surprisingly genuine in a place where every gesture and glance were open to interpretation.

“Your Majesty,” I replied as I sank into a well-practiced curtsy.  “The gardens are just breathtaking, as is the rest of your palace.  Lord Everly and I are honored by your invitation.”

Louis gave a wave of the hand as if it was of no consequence and regarded me solemnly.  “Making the acquaintance of your husband has been illuminating,” he drawled, making me wonder what he was referring to.  “He’s a man of great depth and principle.”  A small smile played about Louis’s lips and I wondered if he was referring to Hugo’s secret Catholicism or his well-documented part in Protestant Monmouth’s rebellion.

“Indeed he is,” I agreed, feeling out of my depth.  Madame de Maitanon saw my dilemma and chimed in.  “Your ward is such a lovely girl.  I think she’s gathered quite a few admirers among the young men.”

Frances was currently surrounded by three young fops who were vying for her attention and plying her with compliments and shameless flattery.  Frances was blushing prettily, but seemed to be enjoying all the attention.  I noticed Luke scowling at the young men from a group of courtiers he was talking to a few feet away, desperate to reclaim Frances for himself, but unable to get away without appearing rude.

“Yes, she is.  She’s enjoying herself tremendously,” I replied, grateful for the change of subject.

“Do bring her again,” Louis added absentmindedly, his gaze already on someone else.  He drew Madame de Maintanon away, leaving me alone on the path.  It took less than a minute for me to be accosted by several courtiers who wanted to be near anyone singled out by the king.  I made polite responses and smiled, wishing desperately that I could be alone for a while. 

**

I breathed a sigh of relief as the first stars appeared in the lavender heavens, their light feeble compared to the hundreds of lanterns which were now lit and swaying gently in the May breeze.  Dusk was settling on the gardens, and an army of servants was busy setting up for supper.  A few couples had disappeared into the wooded pathways that offered more privacy than the exposed ornamental gardens.  I thought it might be a good idea to take a little walk before sitting down to supper, which would last for several hours with course after course being served to guests who could barely eat another bite.  I veered away from the garden into the park and strolled along a narrow lane.  It was darker in the park, but I didn’t mind.  Feeling invisible for a few minutes after being scrutinized for three days seemed very appealing at the moment.

I inhaled the fragrant spring air and lifted my head up to look at the darkening sky.  A few more hours and this would be over.  I couldn’t wait.  How I wished I could call home and check on the baby, but there was no way to send a message or receive one back without actually sending someone back to Paris, which would take hours.  I suppose Archie would have gone had I asked him, but it seemed unfair to make him ride there and back when we would be going home in a few hours’ time.  I’d hardly seen anything of him since we arrived, but I was sure he was making the most of the opportunity and having a good time with the rest of the men-at-arms and grooms. 

I was happy to come upon a wrought-iron bench and sat down gratefully, eager to take the weight off my feet.  I’d been standing and walking for hours in thin-soled shoes and felt the shape of every pebble in my aching feet.  It was bliss to sit in solitude for a few moments, away from the bustle of the Court.  A couple was coming toward me, walking back to the palace from what might have been a lover’s tryst.  They were talking softly and giggling, so I leaned back, hoping they wouldn’t notice me as they passed by.  I didn’t recognize the man, but I thought the woman might be Marie Anne Mancini, one of the Mazarinettes as the nieces of Cardinal Mazarin, the chief minister to Louis, were referred to by members of the Court.  She was an attractive woman, and was the youngest of the sisters who were famous for their intrigues and affairs. 

“She’s absolutely divine,” the man said with a wistful sigh.  “If I were a few years younger, I’d make a play for her myself.  No wonder he couldn’t resist her, but I must admit that keeping one’s mistress in the same house as one’s wife is rather daring, especially for an Englishman.”

“He wouldn’t be the first man to make a fool of his wife,” the woman replied haughtily.  “The stupid cow just had a baby and is rumored to be taking care of the infant herself.  No wonder he’s seeking pleasure in the arms of a beautiful young girl.  Who wants a wife who’s nursing her own child like a peasant?  It’s absolutely barbaric.”

“But what of the rumor that he’s encouraging the match between Mademoiselle Morley and Luke Marsden?” the man asked.

“Probably just to throw his bovine wife off the scent.  Or perhaps he’s tired of the girl already and wants a new mistress.  Of course, it could be that his intentions are more political than personal,” the woman replied, her voice shrill in the silence of the park.  “And they say the French are depraved.  The English are no better than animals, or Huguenots,” she added with disgust. 

I held my breath as the two passed, unsure of whether they had seen me and chose to humiliate me, or were so caught up in their conversation that they hadn’t noticed me sitting there.  Either way, I was enraged.  Now I understood why Frances had suddenly been invited to Court despite her lack of title or fortune.  We were part of the entertainment, a love triangle, or so they thought, to be observed and ridiculed.  I suppose that Hugo was the hero in this scenario since he was thought to be keeping a mistress under his wife’s nose; Frances was the beautiful ingénue, and I was the stupid cow, as dubbed by Madame Mancini.  I knew it was time to return to the terrace, but I simply couldn’t find the strength to leave my sanctuary and face all those people, particularly since I now understood why everyone had been watching me so intently.  I felt hot, angry tears sting my eyes, but I wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t allow them to have their victory, even if they weren’t there to see it.  I didn’t believe for a moment that Hugo was romancing Frances, but everyone at Versailles did, and they were all sniggering behind my back. 

It was nearly dark now, the glow of the moon the only light in the otherwise pitch-black park.  I knew the way back, but wanted to delay by a few minutes more before going back to that snake pit.  I saw a dim outline of someone walking briskly down the path and drew back, not out of fear, but out of a desire to remain invisible.  It was only when the silhouette got closer that I realized it was Hugo.  His face was pale in the moonlight; his eyes haunted as he glanced from side to side, obvious searching for me in the darkness.  Relief flooded his features when he spotted me, and he sat down next to me and drew me to him before asking any questions.

“We must go back,” he said gently.  “Supper is about to be served.”

“I can’t eat.  My stomach is in knots,” I replied, debating whether to tell him what I’d heard.  I felt humiliated and out of place, and I suddenly wondered if Hugo could see how much I didn’t belong here.  I felt like an ugly duckling among beautiful swans who would peck the duckling to death at the first opportunity, and carry on as if nothing had happened. 
You are being a bit overly dramatic
, I thought to myself angrily as I leaned my head against Hugo’s shoulder. 

“Neve, it’s only a few more hours, and then we can go home to Valentine.  I know how difficult this is for you, but we’ve got no choice; we must play our parts.”

“And your part is that of the lover, is it?” I exploded despite my better judgment.  I hadn’t realized how angry I was until the words spilled out, my fury directed at Hugo since I couldn’t take it out on anyone else at Versailles.  “Are you enjoying the admiration bestowed on you for sleeping with a fifteen-year-old while your wife is too busy nursing a baby like a cow?”

Hugo sighed, his shoulders sagging as he rested his elbows on his thighs and lowered his head into his hands.  “You’ve heard.”  It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact, and he sounded miserable.

“Yes, I’ve heard.  Did you know all along that this is what was being said about us?”

“I’ve known since the hunt,” he replied, his expression inscrutable in the darkness.

“And you didn’t think to put an end to the rumor?” I shrieked, suddenly feeling a coldness seep through my soul.  Was he enjoying this?  Was there any truth to what was being said?  I knew I was being hysterical, but I was so emotionally overwrought that I would have believed anything at the moment, wallowing as I was in self-pity.

“Darling, I couldn’t deny it outright because that would just fuel speculation and make them think that I was trying to cover up my liaison with Frances.  There’s a way to diffuse such rumors, and it must be done with finesse.”

“Really?  And how does one handle this with finesse?” I demanded, hands on my hips as I stood above him, fuming.

“One plants a different rumor, but does it so subtly that whoever hears it immediately believes it to be true.  It’s all a game, Neve — a nasty, dirty game.”

Hugo got to his feet and pulled me to him, despite my protests.  “Please tell me you don’t believe that I’m sleeping with Frances,” he whispered in my ear.  “You can’t possibly think there’s any grain of truth to what’s being said.”

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