Désirée (21 page)

The question was so unexpected that it startled Julie, and she didn't understand it.

You are both from Marseilles, aren't you. I know that, but has your sister been in Paris long?" he persisted.

Julie pulled herself together. "No, she's been here only a few months. It's the first time she's ever been in Paris. And you like it here very much, don't you, Désirée?"

"Paris is a lovely city," I recited, stiff as a schoolgirl.

"Yes, when it's not raining," he said, and his eyes narrowed.

"Oh—even in the rain." Christine, the innkeeper's daughter from St. Maximin, spoke eagerly. "Paris is a fairy-tale city, I think."

"You are right, madame. Fairy tales can happen even in the rain," he replied seriously.

Joseph was getting restless. He hadn't written those persuasive letters—in an effort to secure the presence of the future Minister of War in his home— merely to discuss the weather and its influence on fairy tales.

"Yesterday I had a letter from my brother Napoleon," Joseph said meaningfully. But it seemed that Bernadotte was not at all interested. "My brother writes that his journey is progressing according to plan and that so far he has not seen the British Fleet under Nelson."

"Then your brother has good luck," Bernadotte said good-naturedly and raised his glass to Joseph. "To the good health of General Bonaparte. I am greatly indebted to him."

Joseph didn't know whether to be offended or pleased. But there was no doubt that Bernadotte considered his rank equal to Napoleon's. True, Napoleon had been given a supreme command in Italy; but Bernadotte in the meantime, had been an Ambassador; and he knew he was to get the Ministry of War.

It happened while we were eating the spring chickens. Josephine—yes, oddly enough it was Josephine, Napoleon's wife, who precipitated it. For some time I'd noticed that she was looking curiously from me to General Bernadotte and back to me. I don't suppose anyone is more aware than Josephine of the feeling of tension and the subtle vibrations between a man and a woman. So far she hadn't said much. But at Julie's, "It's her first visit to Paris," Josephine raised her thin plucked eyebrows and glanced at Bernadotte with interest. It is possible, very possible, that she recalled seeing Bernadotte at the Tallien's that afternoon. And at last she had an excuse to put an end to Joseph's military-political talk and to introduce a subject which interested her more. She bent her childlike curly head slightly to one side, twinkled at Bernadotte and asked, "It can't have been easy for you as an Ambassador in Vienna. I mean because you are unmarried, General Bernadotte. Did you not often miss the presence of a lady at the Embassy?"

Bernadotte firmly put down his knife and fork. "How right you are, dear Josephine—and I may call you Josephine, may I not, as I did in the old days at your friend Mme Tallien's? And I cannot tell you how unhappy I've been not to be married. But—" he turned to the others at the table—"but I ask you, ladies and gentlemen, what am I to do?"

No one knew whether he was joking or in earnest. Everyone was ill at ease and remained silent until Julie finally said, with forced politeness, "I suppose you haven't found the right lady yet, General."

"But yes, madame, I have found her. But she simply vanished and now—" He shrugged his shoulders in a comic gesture of embarrassment and looked at me. His whole face was gay with laughter.

I"And now you must look for her and ask her to marry you," cried Christine. She was enjoying the conversation and didn't think it at all odd. At home in the taproom at St. Maximin the young men, drinking their glass of wine, had always talked about their love affairs.

"You are quite right, madame," Bernadotte said seriously. "I shall ask her to marry me!"

With that he jumped up, pushed back his chair and spoke to Joseph. "M. Joseph Bonaparte, I have the honour to ask for the hand of your sister-in-law, Mlle Désirée Clary."

He sat down again, calmly, and continued to look steadily at Joseph.

Deathly silence. A clock ticked and I was sure they could also hear my heart pounding. I stared at the white tablecloth in despair.

"I don't quite understand, General Bernadotte. . . . Are you serious?" I heard Joseph ask.

"Very serious."

Deathly silence again.

"I—think you must give Désirée time to consider your ho
nourable offer," Joseph said.

" I have given her time, M. Bonaparte." But you've only met her for the first time!" Julie's voice tre
mbled with excitement.

I
raised my head. "I should be very happy to marry you, General
Bernadotte."

Was that my voice? A chair crashed over backward as som
eone jumped up in surprise. All these astonished faces— I simply couldn't stand it. I don't know how I got out of the
dining room, but suddenly I was upstairs on my bed and weeping.

Then the door opened and Julie came in and held me close and tried to soothe me. "You don't have to marry him unless you want to, dear. Don't cry, don't cry—"

"But I can't help crying," I sobbed, "I can't help it; I'm so terribly happy that I have to cry."

Though I washed my face in cold water and powdered profusely, Bernadotte said at once, when I reappeared in the drawing room, "I see you have been crying again, Mlle Désirée!"

He was sitting next to Josephine on a small sofa; but Josephine got right up and said, "Désirée must sit next to Jean-Baptiste."

So I sat next to him, and they all began to talk quickly to cover their embarrassment. Joseph had brought the champagne we had not drunk at the table into the drawing room, and Julie gave us each a small plate.

"We forgot the dessert," she said. So the strawberries with Madeira sauce were served and helped us through these awkward moments. Afterward, Bernadotte, who was not in the least disconcerted but in exuberant spirits, asked Julie politely, "Madame, would you object if I invited your sister for a little drive?"

Julie nodded understandingly. "Of course not, dear General. When? Tomorrow afternoon?"

"No, I thought—right now," Bernadotte said.

"But it's already dark!" Julie was horrified; it wasn't considered proper for a young girl to drive with a gentleman late in the evening.

I rose firmly. "Only a short drive, Julie," I said. "We'll be back soon." With that I ran out of the room so quickly that Bernadotte hardly had a chance to make his farewells to the others.
 

His
carriage stood outside the house. It was open, and we drove through the fragrance of lime blossoms and the dark blue spring evening. But as we approached the centre of the city, the lights of Paris were so bright that we could no
longer see the stars. So far we hadn't said a word to each other. As we drove along beside the Seine, Bernadotte called out to the coachman. The carriage stopped at a bridge.

"This is the bridge," Bernadotte said; and we walked close together to the centre, where we leaned over the parapet and watched the lights of Paris dancing on the water.

"I called at the rue du Bac several times and asked about you, in the rear building; but no one would give me any information."

I nodded. "They knew that I had come to Paris secretly."

When we walked back to the carriage he put his arm around my shoulder. My head reached just to his epaulettes.

"You said that you were too small for me," he said.

"Yes, and I've grown smaller, for at that time I was still wearing high heels. But they aren't fashionable now. Perhaps it doesn't matter."

"What doesn't matter?"

"That I'm so small."

"No, not at all. On the contrary."

"Why on the contrary?"

"I like you the way you are."

On the drive home he put his arm around me I pressed my cheek against his shoulder, but the gold wire epaulettes scratched my face. "These horrible gold things bother me," I murmured.

He laughed softly. "I know you can't bear generals."

It suddenly occurred to me that he is the fifth general who has asked me to marry him: Napoleon, Junot, Marmont, Duphot— I pushed the thought aside and went on happily scratching my cheek on the epaulettes of a general named Bernadotte.

When we returned to the drawing room, the other guests had already gone. Julie and Joseph greeted us. "I hope we shall see you here often, General," Joseph said.

I began, "Every day, won't we—" and paused. Then, for the first time, I said, "Won't we-Jean-Baptiste?"

We have decided to be married very soon, if you approve," Bernadotte told Joseph—though actually we hadn't discussed
the wedding at all. But I want to marry him very, very soon.

"Tomorrow I'll begin looking for a nice little house; and as soon as I find one that Désirée and I like, we'll be married."

Like a beloved, far-off melody the memory sang in my heart, "I have saved part of my pay for years; I can buy little house for you and the child—"

"I'll write Mama tonight. Good night, General Bernadotte I heard Julie saying. And Joseph—"Good night, dear brother-in-law! My brother Napoleon will be delighted with this news."

As soon as Joseph was alone with Julie and me he said, "I can't understand it at all. Bernadotte isn't a man who makes rash decisions."

"Isn't he too old for Désirée? He is at least . . ."

"Middle thirties, I should say," said Joseph to Julie. And to me—"Tell me, Désirée, do you realize that you are marrying one of the most distinguished men in the Republic . . . "

"The trousseau—" Julie interrupted. "If Désirée really is to be married soon, we must begin to worry about the trousseau!"

"This Bernadotte must have no occasion to say that the trousseau of a sister-in-law of a Bonaparte is not perfect," Joseph insisted. "How long will it take you to have everything ready?"

"We can buy everything quickly," Julie said, "but embroidering the monograms takes time."

For the first time, I joined this lively conversation. "The trousseau is ready in Marseilles. We need only have the boxes sent here. And I finished the monograms ages ago."

"Yes, yes, of course," Julie said, her eyes open wide with surprise. "Yes, Désirée is right—the monograms are done.
B—
"

"B, B,
and again
B."
I smiled and went to the door.

"The whole affair strikes me as very peculiar," Joseph muttered suspiciously.

"If she'll only be happy," Julie whispered.

I am happy. Dear Lord in Heaven, dear lime trees outside along the road, dear roses here in the blue vase—I am so
completely
happy.

PART TWO

Marshal Bernadotte's Lady

Sceaux, near Paris, autumn of Year VI (1798)

I
MARRIED General Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte on the thirteenth of Thermidor in the sixth year of the Republic at seven o'clock in the evening, at the registry office in the Parisian suburb of Sceaux. My husband's witnesses were his friends, Captain of Cavalry Antoine Morien, and M. François Desranges, Notary of Sceaux. I had my uncle Somis, without whom no family wedding could ever seem quite complete, and of course Joseph. At the last moment Lucien Bonaparte also appeared at the registry office, so I marched up with three witnesses.

After the ceremony we all drove to the rue du Rocher where Julie had prepared a veritable banquet. (Everything went off well, but Julie had worried so about it she hadn't slept for three nights.) So as not to hurt anyone's feelings, Joseph had rounded up every last Bonaparte living in Paris or anywhere near. Mme Letizia kept saying how disappointed she was that her step-brother Fesch, who has returned to his church, couldn't be there. Mama originally hoped to come up from Genoa, but she has been sick and decided the journey in the summer heat would be too strenuous. Jean-Baptiste hates family gatherings, and since he has no relatives in Paris anyway, he asked only his old comrade Morien.

My wedding was, therefore, completely dominated by
Bonapartes. My easygoing, countrified uncle Somis could hardly be expected to compete with them. To my surprise Joseph also invited General Junot and his Laura—at Napoleon's request Junot recently married Laura Permon, the daughter of a Corsican friend of Mme Letizia. Junot is attached to Napoleon's staff in Egypt and was in Paris only to report to the Government on Napoleon's entry into Alexandria and Cairo and on his victorious Battle of the Pyramids.

I was frightfully bored at my wedding. Our dinner party began very late because it's now fashionable to be married in the evening, and so Joseph decided that we shouldn't go to the registry office until seven o'clock. Julie wanted me to stay in bed all day to look as rested and pretty as possible. Naturally, I had no time for that; I had to help Marie arrange our new dishes in the kitchen cupboard. And there are many other things to do to get the house ready.

Two days after Jean-Baptiste. and I became engaged— Julie still hadn't recovered from the shock—the General arrived with the news that he had found a suitable house. "Désirée." he urged, "come look at it right away."

Our little house is in the rue de la Lune in Sceaux. Number three. On the ground floor we have a kitchen, a dining room, and a small room in which Jean-Baptiste has his desk and his books. Every day he brings more books; and we call this little room "the study."