The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette (32 page)

'Yes.' I didn't know what to say and trained my gaze upon her pale face, thinking how pretty she had looked in her youth, dressed up in pink, with pearls in her hair and flowers in her hands. What had happened to this smiling girl? What had we done to her?

'She spoke of you often in her letters,' Elector Max said with a melancholy smile, so similar to Josephina's. 'She was deeply unhappy in Vienna and would seem to have had much to complain about but never failed to comment on how kind you were to her. I think that you must have been her only friend.'

'I was there when she was taken ill,' I whispered, wishing that I had more to offer him. 'I do not think that she suffered.'

He nodded and I saw that his eyes were shining with tears. 'I am glad, yes, very glad to hear it. It was hard that she died so far away from home.' He turned to me, his face sad. 'One always hopes of course that any girl sent away will start to look upon their new country as their home and that in time they will become reconciled to their fate but in poor Josephina's case that just didn't seem to happen.' He seemed to realise then who he was talking to and immediately shook himself and patted my hand. 'That won't happen to you though, my dear.'

'I hope not.' It was too late though. His words could never be recalled and had already taken root in my mind. What would happen to me if I never became reconciled to my fate, never felt at home in France? Would I be as unhappy as Josephina? Would I one day be spoken of pityingly by my family as 'poor Antonia'?

We hurried away from the portrait and suddenly there
he
was before us. I was totally unprepared and could only stop dead and stare in open mouthed shock at the portrait that hung on the opposite wall. 'Karl? What is he doing here?' Karl von Zweibrücken looked just as he had done when I last saw him in Vienna, his tawny hair was hidden beneath a formal white wig and his hazel eyes gazed out upon the world with an expression that was at once tender and amused.

The Elector laughed. 'I forgot that you know my dashing young cousin.' Of
course
, we are all cousins here aren't we?
 
I might have known that Karl would get in on the act as well. 'He is in direct line to inherit Bavaria one day should myself and our other cousin Karl Theodor be so unfortunate as to die without any heirs.'
 

'Let us hope that that never comes to pass,' I remarked rather sourly, thinking of poor Maria Amalia and her undoubted chagrin should the relatively humble son of the Duke of Zweibrücken be elevated to Elector of Bavaria. I had never concerned myself with Karl's lineage but it seemed odd that Mama had not been prepared to take a chance on him.

'You don't approve of him?' We were walking on now and Elector Max was looking down at me with concern in his eyes. 'I must admit that we are both very fond of him.'

I did not know how much Elector Max knew about Karl and his dealings with my family and so opted for a neutral shrug and laugh and 'Oh, I like him well enough! I was just surprised to see his painting here, that is all.'

Karl. I do not know what it feels like to be in love but sometimes I wonder...

Friday, 27
th
April, morning.

I woke up early this morning in the beautiful yellow and silver bedroom of the Amalienburg pavilion, just as the fresh Spring sunlight was beginning to filter between the heavy yellow brocade curtains, spilling over the parquet floor and highlighting the soft motes that fluttered through the air.
   

I wriggled my toes beneath the embroidered counterpane then stretched out luxuriously and lay back against the lace edged linen pillows, enjoying the solitude, the peace. In only a few moments the servants would begin their daily routine and their chattering would pierce the spell but for now I could pretend that I was just like any other girl, waking up alone in my bedroom and preparing for the day ahead.

Of course it wasn't long before there was a gentle knock on the door and Clara poked her head around with a smile. 'Oh, you are already awake! What a lovely day it is! Would you like your breakfast now? Soft rolls and hot chocolate or something else?' Her red high heels clip clopped on the shiny parquet flooring as she went to the windows and pulled open the heavy curtains so that light flooded the room. 'What glorious sunshine! Shall we take a walk in the gardens this morning?'

I sighed, resenting the intrusion and bustle but not daring to let my smile slip even for a second. 'Yes, why not?' A troupe of maids followed her into the room and began to fuss around me, lifting the pillows, arranging the counterpane neatly over my legs, dusting tables and the finally producing a large silver tray laden with the promised soft rolls, strawberry conserve, curls of butter and a steaming, silver pot of hot chocolate.

The morning passed very pleasantly. After donning my favourite pink and white striped silk dress we all went out and walked about the lovely formal garden that surrounded the pavilion. I trailed my hands over the sweetly scented roses and lilies and thought how lovely it would be to have a little pleasure palace of my own one day. Perhaps Louis will build me one? Or I could build my own? The Antoniaberg? I must ask my Abbé how that would translate into French. I can imagine Durfort's face should I try to introduce a German sounding building to his beloved Versailles. Which almost makes me want to do it.

Anyway, I must go. We are spending the afternoon with the Electress and she is apparently keen to talk to me about her elusive nephew. I can't wait!

Forget what I said about Karl last night. I was tired and didn't know what I was talking about.
 

27
th
April, later.

I have spent the afternoon sitting with the Duchess Maria Anna in her green and gold sitting room being plied with sugared cakes, hot chocolate served in beautiful rose patterned Sèvres cups and delicious, wonderful gossip. Do not be fooled by the tiny little Electress of Bavaria's pretty pink and white face, earnest blue eyes and little girl voice as she sits on her delicate chair and gently pulls the ears of the tiny little white spaniel that lazes comfortably on her pale yellow silk lap. This woman, thanks to personal relationships to every crowned head in Europe and a formidable amount of correspondents in every court has her finger very firmly placed on the pulse, the beating heart of the Western world. She is also, despite her doll like appearance, incredibly shrewd and intensely intelligent. I would not like to have her for an enemy and so I consider myself fortunate indeed that she has decided to be my friend.

'I am almost forty two years old!' she trilled with a delighted laugh as I admired her lovely flounced silk dress. 'Some might say, and I am absolutely sure that they do, that I am far too old to be concerned with such frippery but I don't care!'

'You look wonderful,' I replied with a smile, taken aback by her candour and rather surprised as she absolutely does not look her age.
 
'Truly.'

'Thank you my dear.' She waved away the hovering footmen and poured me a cup of hot chocolate with her own hands. 'I must say that I hope my nephew appreciates how fortunate he is to have such a lovely bride. I am sure that his mother, my poor sister would have been very pleased with you.' She lifted the ornate silver sugar tongs and cast me a quizzical look. 'Sugar?'

'Yes, please.' I smiled and blushed. 'I hope that everyone will be pleased with me. I wish that my... the Dauphin's mother was still alive so that I could meet her.' The Dauphine Marie-Josèphe had died
 
three years previously from tuberculosis.

'She was not entirely happy with the match you know,' the Electress was clearly trying to pick her words carefully. 'My dear sister was very keen that her son should marry our niece, Maria Amalia of Saxony and was quite determined to bring about a match between the two.' She heaped thick whipped cream on top of my hot chocolate and passed it to me. 'Amalia is the eldest daughter of our brother, the Elector of Saxony and is very pretty. My poor Maria Josepha had always taken an interest in the girl and had decided that having her at Versailles would be a comfort to her once her own two daughters, Clotilde and Élisabeth had married and gone to live elsewhere.'

'Oh.' I could not help but feel downcast. 'I see.' At no point had anyone ever mentioned that there had been another Princess in the running and the news made me feel rather insignificant in the general scheme of things. Yes, I had won the prize but it had almost been snatched away from me by some unknown girl, who had furthermore been the favourite of my prospective mother in law. 'What does she look like?' I knew that the question made me look foolish and jealous but couldn't help myself.

The Electress smiled to herself as though she had been expecting my question and did not at all think any less of me for it. 'Maria Amalia is very pretty but, I think, not as pretty or charming as you.' She leaned forward and squeezed my hands. 'You have nothing to worry about, dearest!' She beckoned forward a footman who held a long mahogany box in his hands. 'Here, I will show you.'
 

The box was opened to reveal a collection of several dozen miniatures arranged in neat rows against pale blue velvet. The Electress frowned as she scanned the painted faces. 'Aha!' She selected a miniature and handed it to me. 'Maria Amalia.'

I looked down at the miniature, half expecting to see some sort of heavy lidded, voluptuous temptress depicted within but instead I beheld an attractive girl with regular features, slightly protruding blue eyes and corn coloured hair drawn back in a pearl studded chignon. In short she looked like any other German princess and the only sign of any character that I could discern was a certain mutinous tilt to her chin, which probably boded no good to any future husband.
 
She was nothing special, in fact she was absolutely ordinary. I hated her.

'See?' The Electress took back the miniature and replaced it in the box. 'Nothing to be frightened of.' She selected another picture. 'Now, who do you suppose this is?' She handed me a picture of a pale youth with dark eyes and an untidy mop of dark hair, pulled back with a blue ribbon.

'I do not know.' I scrutinised his face for a clue but found none.

She laughed, delighted with her game. 'Why, it is my other nephew, Ferdinand of Naples!'

'Carolina's husband?' I stared at him in amazement. He was not at all as I had imagined him to be. 'I did not realise that he was your nephew as well.' Was there no one that this woman was not related to?

The Electress smiled. 'Ah yes, he is the son of my
other
sister, Amalia who married the King of Spain. She is dead now too of course, which is very sad.' She handed me a miniature of a lovely pink cheeked girl in a red hat. 'She was so pretty, poor thing. I do not think that the climate in Spain agreed with her at all.'

'What a pity,' I agreed.

And so it went on. Miniature after miniature came out of the box, portraits of princesses, dukes and kings, their eyes gazing up into mine as I cradled them on my palm and listened to the Electress hold forth.

On Louis XV: 'The most charming man imaginable. Terribly shy of course, thanks to his upbringing and early loss of his entire family to an outbreak of measles. Yes, they all died within a week of each other and only Louis survived thanks to his governess having the presence of mind to hide him away from the royal doctors.'

On Madame de Pompadour: 'The most cultured woman imaginable. Her death was a true tragedy. I wish that she was still alive to welcome you to Versailles as I am sure that she would have been delighted with you. The match with Austria was her doing you know so you have much to than her for!'

On the Dauphine Maria Josepha: 'My beautiful sister. She was the sweetiest, funniest girl imaginable. The King adored her, you know and called her his 'Pepa'. I hear that he was quite berefit when she died. More so than when La Pompadour passed away. She was truly devout and yet at the same time was so full of laughter and fun. I am sure that she is still missed at Versailles.'

On the Dauphin: 'A loving and intelligent boy, who is much sharper than anyone gives him credit for. They all think that he is dull, boring and stupid but if they only made the effort to truly know him they would soon realise that there is much more to him. I am sure that you will get along famously. I am sure that a pretty girl like you will find it easy to draw him out of his shell.'

On Karl: 'An impetuous and dangerous young man.'

Hm.

Saturday, 28
th
April, Augsburg.

We said a sad farewell to Nymphenburg and its gracious inhabitants this morning and continued on our way, refreshed and rejuvenated by our two days of rest. My ladies and I were in high spirits as our carriage rolled slowly through woods, villages and fields, followed by a huge cloud of dust as the fifty seven coaches of my courtège rumbled behind us, churning up the road as they went.

Tonight we rest in Augsburg, an ancient city in South West Bavaria. I can't stop yawning and am longing for bed but instead I must allow the maids to bath me before I dress up in my finery, pin on my brightest smile and go out for a banquet followed by the opera.

Waiting for me here was a letter from Amalia, hidden inside a wooden box containing the most lovely pale pink cashmere shawl.