The Academie (15 page)

I look at Caroline. “That is the day after tomorrow!” I say. “What can they be planning?”

She looks back at me and whispers, “I think I know.”

At that moment the footman opens the front door and leads us out to the waiting coach. The air outside is cold but fresh. I breathe in deeply, not realizing until then how oppressive the atmosphere inside my mother’s house has been.

We climb into the coach in our mantles and muffs, and
as soon as the footman shuts the door the coachman cracks his whip over the horses’ backs and we start off.

Caroline sits opposite me with Eliza at her side. Eliza’s eyes are like moist, purple grapes. Caroline’s are as hard and brittle as jet.

She leans forward. “Are we going to allow them to send us away like children, when they are clearly planning something that will affect all of France?”

All I want to do is disappear into the world of school, and see Michel again. Now more than ever I hope that his regard for me is real, that there is a chance he could take me out of this confused mess of family relationships. But Caroline speaks with such passion, and I confess I am more than curious. “What do you suggest?” I ask.

“I propose that we meet them the day after tomorrow. Murat said something that I believe he was not supposed to, and I think I know where they are going.”

“Yes!” Eliza says. “Eugène, too, said something mysterious, but now perhaps I understand!”

I lean back in my seat. “Very well,” I say. “If you go, I go too.”

Caroline does something I would never have expected. She reaches out her hand to me. I meet it. She grasps it, hard. “I know you do not want to marry Louis,” she says. “I may be able to help you.”

26
Eliza

Caroline begins to speak, acting like a general consulting with her advisers.

“We must make our plan before we return to school, because there will be no time once we arrive.” She turns to me. “Eliza, what have you heard?”

“I was seated next to Eugène, who was speaking across the table with Murat,” I say. “He mentioned something about going to Saint-Cloud, but then, when he noticed that I was listening, dismissed it, as if he had made a mistake.”

Hortense looks confused. “Why Saint-Cloud? If they are planning something with the Directoire, surely they would go to Paris.”

Caroline speaks again. “I too overheard Murat and Barras talking at dinner. They thought I wasn’t listening. They
said they would have to get the Directoire out of Paris if the plan was going to work.”

“And the Council of Five Hundred? What of them?” Hortense asks.

The Council of Five Hundred? I know little about them. “I don’t understand,” I say.

Caroline makes a clicking noise as though she is irritated with my ignorance, but she explains anyway. “You see, the Directoire, which is five men with different posts in the government, has made terrible decisions that have bankrupted the treasury. And the Council of Five Hundred, supposedly in place to ratify anything the Directoire wants to enact, is worse than useless. All they do is argue. There is no strong government.”

Hortense interjects. “What can they mean to do—Bonaparte and the others?”

A slow smile spreads across Caroline’s face. “I don’t know for certain, but I believe the fortunes of my family are about to take another significant leap forward, and I want to be there to witness it!”

I shake my head. “How can we do that? We would have to leave school, we’ll need a coach, and if anyone sees us they’ll send us away.”

“I think there is a way,” Caroline says, “but we must be very clever, and very brave. We must disguise ourselves so that no one will recognize us.” She looks back and forth between us. “No one must even know that we are women.”

We sit in silence for a moment. I’m not sure I understand why this is so important to Caroline, and I doubt that Hortense—who is always so well-behaved—will go along with her.

“How does this make a difference to me? As you say, it is your family.” I detect a note of bitterness in Hortense’s voice, which surprises me.

Caroline draws herself up. “If we, the Bonapartes, are elevated to yet a higher position in society and the government, there may be no need for my brother Louis to marry for the sake of an old title.”

That was unkind. I try to see the expression on Hortense’s face in the dim light inside the carriage.

“We should dress as soldiers.” It is Hortense. Her eyes are shining. Can it be that she agrees with Caroline? That she is not offended by what she said?

“How?” I ask.

Caroline grips my hands. “Eliza, your maid Ernestine is an excellent seamstress, is she not?”

I nod. “But where will we find materials? And how will we hide what she is doing?”

“I haven’t worked out all the details yet, but are we agreed that we shall try?” Caroline asks.

“Valmont may be able to help,” Hortense says. “Perhaps he can get us breeches to alter, castoffs from the Collège Irlandais.”

Valmont? Why would he help us?
I wonder.

“So let us make a pact. We vow to do whatever it takes to be with the army and the generals on the eighteenth of Brumaire. Agreed?” Caroline can hardly contain her excitement.

I look back and forth at my two new friends. What they are suggesting could cause serious trouble for me if we are found out, could result in having me sent back to Virginia in disgrace.

But their passion about the plan is irresistible. I take a deep breath. “Agreed.”

Before I know it we are all clasping each other and laughing. I’m sure my mother never dreamed I would become involved in such an escapade. I silently ask her forgiveness, even as I look forward to our project with growing elation.

It is late when we arrive at the school. The night porter lets us in, explaining that Madame Campan is expecting us, that she received a communication earlier from Madame Bonaparte.

“And there is a letter and a parcel for you, Mademoiselle Eliza,” he says, picking them up from the table inside the door and handing them to me.

I recognize my mother’s handwriting, and suddenly I’m reminded that she has left Paris, and me, to return to Virginia. My heart sinks. “They’re from my mother,” I mutter. Tears threaten to overwhelm me, and I take a deep breath.

I feel Hortense’s gentle hand on my shoulder. “Has something happened?”

I draw myself up. I will not let this disappointment infect my spirits. “No, nothing at all. My mother has simply returned to Virginia to be with my father when he runs for office in the government.”

I can feel my lip quivering just the slightest bit and do my best to control it. I don’t want them to guess how much I rely upon Mama still. I have seen the way they are so independent, and I want to be like them.

We go upstairs to our rooms. “Remember, ask Ernestine to help us,” Caroline whispers before I close the door behind me. “I’ll enlist the help of Hélène, too.”

“Geneviève may also be relied upon,” Hortense says. “If she has the time.”

We kiss each other before parting. I am glad to see Hortense and Caroline showing affection. They are sisters, after all. I only hope that Caroline truly wants to help Hortense.

As soon as I am alone in my room, I break the seal on Mama’s letter.

My darling Eliza
,

Your papa has written to me and requests my return most urgently. I would have protested, were it not for the fact that I am feeling unwell in my present condition and long for the comfort of my own hearth
.

But his news is quite important: he is called to Washington, and there is talk of his running for governor of Virginia. I sent word to Madame Campan that I would see you, but she informed me that you had gone to stay with Caroline Bonaparte for a few days. That’s as it should be; you must take advantage of the opportunities you are presented with
.

To ensure that you do not lack for anything, I have given Madame Campan a generous bank draft, and enclose in this package some jewels and money for you. Use it as you wish, but I especially recommend purchasing gifts for your new friends
.

Until next we meet, your loving mother
.

I can no longer hold back the tears that fall on the paper that bears Mama’s handwriting. Now not only am I in school, but she is far away, and I cannot know when she will receive my letters and share my adventures with me.

And there will be adventures. What does Caroline mean for us to do? At least there is one good thing: the money Mama sent will surely help.

I ring the bell on my dressing table. A moment later, Ernestine appears. She is wearing her nightgown and gives a very obvious yawn. I cannot help but wonder if she would do such a thing in front of a French mistress.

“We have need of your help, beginning early tomorrow morning,” I say.

“Yes, Mademoiselle Eliza. But I hope not too early.” She yawns again.

“As early as I say.” I turn to her. I watched Joséphine and Caroline with the servants at Malmaison. They were calm but insistent. They expected obedience, but didn’t order them the way we do our house slaves in Virginia. I fear I have been too informal with Ernestine, and she has taken advantage of my youth and inexperience by presuming too many liberties. That will change.

I see her expression freeze, the usual smile playing at the corners of her mouth stopped in an awkward place. “
Oui, Mademoiselle
,” she says, and curtsies. If she dared, I think she’d stick her tongue out at me right now. But I have more important things to think about.

Tomorrow we will prepare to run away dressed as men. I understand why Caroline wishes to do so—I saw her with Murat, and she glowed with triumph. He is a very dashing man and clearly Bonaparte depends upon him. How did Joséphine manage to change Napoléon’s mind so quickly?

A little thrill of excitement stirs me. When we go upon this adventure, I will see Eugène. And not as a polite young man in his mother’s house, but as a soldier at the heart of action. I conjure up his face, thinking of all the expressions I have seen upon it in the brief time since I have met him, and I sigh.

It is silly of me to think of him, I know. But I can still feel his arms around me, protecting and comforting me. I will go
on this crazy adventure of Caroline’s not just because it will be fun to be with them, but for the sake of Eugène. I want to have another opportunity to watch him, to see him move about in the world of powerful men and hold his own, although he is but eighteen years old. He has that in common with Hortense: they both have eyes that are deep with experience. Their father was guillotined, their mother imprisoned. Their world has been upended and righted again so many times. I do not know if these were the lessons my mama wanted me to learn here, but, if nothing else, I begin to understand how small my existence has been so far.

Morning comes too quickly even for me. “Wake up!” Caroline shakes me.

“It’s barely light outside.”

“Yes, but we have so much to do.” She takes hold of my arm and practically drags me from beneath my covers. “We must be well under way before Madame awakens.”

I am alert enough that I know I will not go back to sleep, so I give in and ring for Ernestine.

She arrives surprisingly quickly, already dressed. She helps me into my gown and ties my hair back in a queue, positioning my blue ribbons exactly. It appears my tone has worked with her.

Caroline, Hortense, and I meet in the breakfast room.

“We need material. Is there enough in the sewing scraps, do you think?” Caroline asks Hortense. Is this new
friendliness between them genuine? I don’t believe Hortense would dissemble, but I am not so certain about Caroline. If they are truly to become friends, it pleases and disappoints me at the same time. Their friendship would rob my letters of half the content I was hoping to write to my mother.

“It depends on what sort of clothing we want to make,” I say.

Caroline puts her hands on her hips. “We need to be soldiers.”

This makes all of us stop what we are doing and stare. “How can we manage it?” I ask. A soldier’s uniform is a very particular thing.

“If we could but purchase the jackets...,” Caroline says.

“I can help,” I say, drawing my reticule out and opening it to show half the bundle of banknotes my mother gave me. I had the good sense to hide the rest.

“Where did you get so much?” Hortense says. I hear fear in her voice. Perhaps she thinks I have been dishonest.

“My mama left it for me. She wanted to make sure I didn’t want for anything while she is away.”

“Eliza, you are our savior!” Caroline leaps to her feet and throws her arms around me, then just as quickly sits back down and starts to rattle on about what we’ll need.

Hortense looks at me with pity. I don’t want to let my feelings show, to reveal that my mother’s parting has had such a strong effect upon me, so I turn away from her.

“Now for the breeches,” Caroline says to Hortense. “Do
you think Valmont could help?” She furrows her brow and purses her lips, tapping her chin with her index finger.

“He probably could. I shall send him a message. I expect there are students across the way who have outgrown their breeches, and they have to have white ones to wear for chapel. Many of the boys use the same ones when they join the army.”

“But how will we get them here?” I ask.

“Valmont is a prefect, and sometimes he has to deliver messages here. I shall say ... that the young ones need something to practice their mending on.”

I have to admit, it could work. “And the jackets?”

“I have an idea about that, too,” Hortense says, surprising us with how enthusiastically she is entering into the plan. “Eugène has grown so much lately,” Hortense says. “Perhaps we can send Ernestine to Malmaison on the pretext that Eliza forgot something important. Maman will not rise until afternoon, with the gentlemen all gone. I’ll write a note for the young maid there. I think she’ll help us.”