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Authors: Jacqueline Seewald

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BOOK: The Chevalier
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Five

The third caller of the day arrived early in the afternoon, and Madeline welcomed him warmly with admiration in her eyes. Her half-brother, Roland, was rapier slim and fastidiously dressed in the latest Paris fashion. Like Madeline, Roland had black hair and gray eyes, but his orbs had a shrewdness about them that hers lacked, while the color was a darker gray like well-honed steel. His skin was olive in color as their father’s had been. Unlike Madeline, there was nothing suggestive of the angelic about his features. Although he was not a tall man, Madeline considered him quite dignified. He carried himself with a certain air of authority, much as Papa had done, but Roland took himself far more seriously.

When Madeline was a child, her brother had always either ignored her or been unfriendly. He had treated her mother in an intensely hostile manner and chose to live with his maternal grandparents. Madeline had once commented to her mother on Roland’s demeanor toward them. Maman merely said it was to be expected: Roland was resentful that his father had remarried so soon after his mother’s death. Maman was forgiving toward Roland regardless of his attitude. Madeline had chosen to follow her mother’s generosity of spirit. After all, Roland was her brother and her only living sibling. Lately, since Madeline had blossomed into a young woman, Roland’s attitude toward her had vastly changed, but he was still very cold toward her Mother which made Madeline very unhappy. For her part, Madeline looked up to her brother, who was a man of twenty-five, and, therefore, his opinions were to be much valued. It was her desire to please Roland and have him think well of her.

Roland surveyed her thoughtfully and smiled as if satisfied by what he saw. “You are looking lovelier all the time,
ma chere
. But you must now wear your hair always swept up. Otherwise you will still be taken for a child instead of the beautiful young lady you have become.” He spoke in French to her when they were alone, although his English was flawless. With Maman, he made a point of speaking in English, despite the fact that her mother was also more comfortable with French than English.

“I forgot to fix my hair today. I had such a busy morning.”

“Busy in what regard? Has your mother grown worse?” His eyes narrowed sharply.

“No, not that. We had company earlier – my friend Constance.” Instinctively, she felt that Roland would be angry if she spoke about Gareth Eriksen. The last thing she wanted was for her brother to be upset with her now that he finally seemed to be taking notice of her and actually liked her. “Mama is resting, but I can send for her if you like.”

“No,” he interjected quickly, “do not disturb your mother’s rest. I want to talk to you. I will be traveling back to Paris for a few months. Our treaty negotiations with the English are nearly completed and the King has requested my presence at court.”

“Do you think that the King will want to talk to you about the Chevalier? Is he going to help Prince Charles Edward?” She could not keep the excitement out of her voice.

Roland’s expression was grim. “I know your mother has convinced you that the young Chevalier should be king, but,
ma chere
, it may not be in France’s best interest to support him. We are just ending one war with England and the King does not show eagerness to start another.”

Madeline lowered her head in dejection. “But Roland, he is the rightful heir to the throne. Mama says without King Louis’s help, the Stuarts will never be restored.”

“Your Mama is right, as always.” There was a faintly sardonic edge to his voice. “However, such decisions cannot be made by you or me. I do not have Papa’s influence on the King, and you should know that Louis did not welcome the Prince when he came to Paris. Louis remembers well that his grandfather, le Roi Soleil, financed the first Stuart restoration attempt in Ireland. You must know what a disaster that was. Your own grandfather lost everything after the ‘15.”

“The Highland clans rallied to James Stuart just as they have to his son now. They’re doing the fighting. Surely, King Louis could spare him some aid.”


Le Blanc Chevalier
arrived in Scotland with only a handful of advisors, none of them French.” Roland’s face was devoid of expression, a perfect mask, his voice flat.

“Perhaps if you were to see Madame de Chateauroux, she could help to persuade the King. Maman was a favorite of hers if you recall.”

Roland frowned deeply. “You have not heard,
non
, how could you? Madame de Chateauroux is no longer the King’s mistress.”


Ciel
, I don’t believe it! He adored her, and she is so lovely.” Madeline was crushed with surprised disappointment.

“He has a new favorite now.”

“How can that be?”

Roland smiled at her with an expression that betrayed self-satisfaction with his superior knowledge. “The King nearly died of the ague. When everyone was certain that he would not survive the fever, including himself, he swore to God that if he were spared, he would give up Madame de Chateauroux. He survived and felt he must keep his word. But a man like Louis does not exist long without a
belle femme
; he is a man of certain appetites. So it was necessary for him to choose a new
amoureus
e.”

“Who is she?” Madeline asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

“Jeanne Antoinette Poisson, the young and beautiful wife of La Normant d’Etioles.”

“Of course, I know who she is, the queen of fashionable society. But Maman had me in school by the time Paris began to feel her influence so I know little of her. What is she like?”

“She has great personal grace and beauty, excellent musical accomplishments. I understand she sketches quite well also. Madame Poisson completely charmed Louis when he met her at a ball last year. Since then, he has become subject to her influence and established her at Versailles. Louis bought her the estate of Pompadour and she now carries the title of Marquise de Pompadour. If one wishes to influence Louis, one must first establish himself in her good graces. All his important decisions are made from her
boudoir
these days.”

“Perhaps this woman will prove to be a passing fancy,” Madeline suggested.

“Louis is vain, handsome, lazy, profligate and also easily bored,” Roland remarked thoughtfully. “It is quite possible that he will select another mistress soon. In any case, I do intend to meet this Marquise de Pompadour for myself.”

“And you will return to tell me all about her?”

Roland laughed at her enthusiasm, taking her delicate hands in his own and kissing each palm. “Everything, I promise,
ma chere
. Of course, your mother would be outraged. But we will not tell her that I am educating you in the ways of polite society. You and she should return to France with me. She will not get better in the cold, damp English winter. Our lovely chateau in the South of France would be perfect for her, and then you would be free to spend the winter season in Paris with me. It is time that I introduced you properly to French society. You are a young lady now, no longer a child.”

“Roland, Maman will not go.”

“She wants you to make your debut here among the English, does she not? Ridiculous! They are barbarians without any semblance of taste.” He virtually spat his words.

Madeline cast her eyes downward, the thick, sooty lashes fringing her pale eyes, hiding her sad expression. “I do not think a single English aristocrat would offer for me anyway. Last night, I went to a ball with my friends, and no one seemed the slightest bit interested.”

Roland drew her into his arms. “
Cherie
, of course, not! They are savages. But you are
une belle femme
, and in Paris you will shine like an
etoile
and draw the homage you deserve. I will see to it personally. The English swine are our enemies. Never forget that. What they think does not matter. Tell me, do you still practice your singing and work at your painting?”


Oui
, Roland.”

He favored her with a warm smile. “King Louis himself has never had a mistress with your beauty and talents. In Paris, the court shall fall before you in admiration, and I shall be the one to present you. You are a confection worthy of a king. There are better days ahead,
ma cherie
, better days for both of us.” The gleam in his eye, was it ambition or love for her? She preferred to think the latter.

Roland gave her a hug and she felt safe and protected by him. “You are so kind and comforting.”

“Not in the slightest. When I come back to London, I will make arrangements for you to return to Paris with me. Your mother and I will come to terms.” Roland’s eyes were suddenly hard and cold, metallic as the blade of a sword.

“Roland, you know that she is dying. I must stay with Maman and tend to her as long as she needs me.” Tears welled in Madeline’s eyes.

Roland’s eyes softened again and he pressed her hand to his cheek. “My sweet, gentle girl, you are so full of compassion. Never fear for I will take care of you always. Is there anything I can do for you at present?”

Madeline was hesitant but then decided to ask her brother for a favor. “I much desire to go to the theatre tonight. They are doing Shakespeare and I thought perhaps you might consider taking me.”

Roland smiled and touched her cheek. “Would that I were able,
cherie
, but I have already made particular plans for the evening. Besides, I would not approve the English theatre regardless. Why would you want to see a play written and spoken in the language of the accursed enemy? I, for one, could not abide it. But we will have our evening together, in fact, many of them. When I return from Paris, I will take you to the opera – so much more civilized.”

Roland kissed her on both cheeks, caressed her, and then left her alone in the drawing room. Madeline sat thoughtfully on the settee for a time. She fixed her eyes on the elegantly carved marble mantle of the fireplace. Perhaps her brother was right, she belonged in Paris. But Maman’s needs were her first consideration, and Maman wished to spend her final days in Scotland. There was really no choice in the matter.

Madeline ran up the staircase as quickly as she could. She never walked when she could run. It was fun to see how fast she could manage to move in her voluminous skirts without tripping. In her bedroom, Maman was resting but not asleep. The great emerald eyes were alert. Yet, Madeline could see the pain in them as well as the iridescent purple shadows which rung them. Maman was a brave woman. She never complained; however, Madeline knew that she was suffering. The wasting illness drained away her strength, and Maman had become nothing but a scarecrow, a shadow of her former vibrant self. Even her hair, which had been a lovely red gold, had now, in her fortieth year, turned pale with an intrusion of silver slivers.

“Roland is gone already?” her mother asked.


Oui
Maman, but how did you know that he was here?”

“Marie keeps me informed of everyone who visits. She is my liaison to the world outside my bedroom when I cannot manage to leave it. What did he want,
ma petite
?”

“He wants us to return to Paris with him. He is going back for a few months.”

“You did not tell him of our plans I hope?”

“Of course not. But he did remind me of how exciting Paris is, Maman. He wants to introduce me to court society.”

Her mother frowned. “I have kept you from being corrupted and I will continue to do so as long as I can. I fear Roland may wish to exploit you. You must be protected from those who would take advantage of your exuberant spirit.”

Her mother held out her emaciated hand, indicating the place beside her bed, and Madeline quickly joined her mother, taking the icy, outstretched hand in her own warm ones. She studied the pattern of blue veins that stood out against the pale wrists.

“It will be as you say.” Madeline sighed with resignation. She was certain that Maman was wrong about Roland, but she understood her mother’s mistrust.

“I would like to see you well married before I depart this life. I have given this much thought. I do not want you to marry into the French aristocracy. There are few men like your father. I was most fortunate. As to the English, I wanted you to have a season here in London, but I see now that would be a mistake. First, I have little time left. Secondly, I do not trust the English. A man like that Gareth Eriksen would only break your heart. You are loving and ingenuous. Only a rare man would understand or accept your independence of spirit.”

“I do not think Gareth Eriksen would have hurt me.”

“Not deliberately perhaps, but I fear that he has led a harsh life and has become a hard man, one who could be dominating and insensitive. Would he value your zest for life?”

Madeline did not wish to doubt her mother, still it was difficult to believe ill of the incredibly handsome Englishman. Yet, perhaps in her naiveté, she was judging him only by superficial criteria such as appearance rather than by standards of character and conduct.

Her mother smiled wanly, the face very pale against the fluffed pillows. “The Highlands are like no other place on earth, and you will soon find that out. Your cousin Andrew will make you an excellent husband. I have been corresponding with Annie, my cousin, who is Andrew’s mother. She wishes the match just as much as I do. He is a fine man and chieftain of a great clan. It is time you found out about your heritage, my girl. How I have missed my childhood home and family! When my father was attainted and banished from Scotland, the only good thing was that his estates were allowed to pass to his younger brother who had not participated in the war because he was too young. Otherwise, everything that belonged to the MacCarnan would have been forfeited to the Crown. A marriage between you and your cousin Andrew would restore all of us.”

BOOK: The Chevalier
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