The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette (39 page)

I turned to the Comte d'Artois, whose dark eyes met mine admiringly. 'I do hope that when it is time for me to marry they find a princess as pretty as you,' he said with a charming smile as he raised my hand to his lips with a practised grace. It is hard to believe that he is only twelve years old as he seems far older both in appearance and manners.
 

With an air of regret the King passed my hand to the Dauphin, who without looking at me stiffly walked to the table, which was lit by dozens of candelabra and covered with luscious blooming pink, peach and yellow Peonies, gleaming silverware, fine crystal glasses and a beautiful Sèvres dinner service.
 

'How pretty everything looks,' I remarked to my husband in a pleasant manner.
 

He gave a tiny shrug. 'I suppose that it is.' He stared down miserably at his plate and played nervously with the silver fork that lay beside it.
 

I watched him for a moment in silence, trying desperately to think of something, anything that I could say that would at least make him look at me or show some enthusiasm. 'Do you enjoy hunting?' was all that I could think of and inwardly I kicked myself.

'Yes, I do.' The Dauphin still didn't look at me and there was another long pause as he played with his fork and tried to think of something else to say. 'Do you hunt?'
 

I shook my head. 'No, alas.' I caught the eye of the Princesse de Lamballe, who was sitting near the end of the table, next to her sister-in-law, the Duchesse de Chartres and we shared a shy smile. It made me feel so much better to have a friend amongst the guests, especially when I allowed my gaze to wander about the table and realized that everyone present was staring at me with the same expressions of mixed curiosity and hostility.
 

Everyone that is except the extremely pretty blonde with melting blue eyes and a charming smile who sat at the far end of the table and whose long lashed eyes regarded me with a disconcerting degree of frank amusement. She was beautifully dressed in a lace edged gown of shimmering pale gold silk that gleamed in the candlelight and revealed rather more of her opulent bosom than was perhaps strictly necessary and the more I looked at her, the more I began to feel that my own carefully chosen gown of pale pink satin trimmed with pink ribbons, diamonds and exquisite lace was hopelessly and embarrassingly gauche.

I stared back at her in envious resentment then quickly turned away with a blush when she caught my eye, winked and sardonically raised her wine glass to me in a silent toast.
 

I leaned towards the Dauphin, who was enthusiastically chewing on a chicken leg and not paying the slightest bit of attention to any of the conversations about the table or any of the other guests. 'Who is that pretty lady at the end of the table?' I whispered, making sure that I did not allow my eyes to slide again in her direction.

He looked up at me then with a startled expression. 'What?' His mouth hung slightly open as he frowned and peered past me, his eyes screwed up as he tried to see past the rich gleam of the candles and silverware. 'What lady?' I felt myself go crimson lest she overhear him and began to wish that I had not asked.

His cousin, Madame de Chartres who was sitting on his other side came to my rescue and leaned languidly across him with a smile to whisper: 'That, my dear one, is Madame la Comtesse du Barry.'

The name was not familiar to me and I did not remember my Abbé ever mentioning anyone of this name to me. 'Who is she? What is her position at court?'
 

Madame de Chartres began to laugh while the Dauphin frowned down at his plate, looking as though he wished he could be anywhere else. I had already noticed that his ears went quite pink when he felt embarrassed and now they were glowing scarlet beneath his white, powdered wig.
 

'Her position at court?' The Duchesse hid a smile behind her diamond encrusted fan. 'Well, let me see, Madame la Comtesse's position is to...
amuse
his Majesty.' She spoke in an exaggerated whisper and I was mortified when a muted ripple of laughter swept down the table.

I did not immediately understand her. Why would I? 'Then I would like to be her rival,' I said rather stiffly with an affectionate look at King Louis, who was pretending not to listen to our conversation. 'I too would like to amuse his Majesty.'
 
I met his eyes and he smiled and like Madame du Barry raised his glass to me.

The Dauphin looked up then, finally, from his meal and fixed his eyes upon me for a moment as though he had only just realized that I was there and was seeing me for the very first time. He looked as though he would have liked to have said something but after a few seconds he looked away again and the moment had gone.

I glanced down the table at Madame du Barry and saw that she was still staring at me, only this time with a hint of defiance. I do not think that we are going to become friends.

Wednesday, 16
th
May, early morning.

Silly, gossipy Madame de Chartres filled in the gaps after dinner as we walked arm in arm to the lovely yellow and gold salon, where there was to be a recital by some of the stars of the Paris Opéra.

'How pretty we look together,' she said, posing in front of one of the enormous gilt framed mirrors that lined the gallery. 'It is so nice to have another young person to talk to.' I looked at our reflections and had to agree that we looked charming together in our frothy pastel dresses, our eyes starry and cheeks delicately flushed thanks to a little too much wine and our powdered and scented hair tumbling in ringlets about our shoulders.
 

'Who is Madame du Barry?' I asked in a whisper, looking around carefully to ensure that the lady was not in earshot. 'She is very pretty but, I think, not one of us.'

'Not one of us?' the Duchesse trilled with laughter. 'No, no, most assuredly
not
!' She leaned closer so that I was overpowered by her heavy violet and rose scent and whispered in my ear. 'I do not know all the details but what I do know is all perfectly shocking, my dear! Apparently Madame la Comtesse is the illegitimate daughter of a common seamstress and a monk!' She drew back to observe my reaction and then, clearly satisfied with what she saw, carried on. 'I have also heard that she plied her trade on the streets before she found a wealthy protector and that she was passed from man to man until she caught His Majesty's eye and found herself at Versailles.'

I could not hide my shock. In all my pampered, sheltered life no one, not even Amalia who could be counted on to divulge pretty much anything no matter how shocking, had ever spoken to me about such matters and yet here was the pretty Duchesse de Chartres, a girl not much older than myself, talking about it as though it was just a matter of course.
 

'Now, now, do not look so scandalized!' Madame de Chartres said with a giggle. 'You will have to get used to such things if you are going to live amongst us all at Versailles! The whole palace is a hotbed of gossip and intrigue.' She gave me a pitying look and I could tell that she found me rather disappointing, all things considered. 'You aren't excessively devout are you?'
 

'I don't know. No, I don't think so.' I blushed, crossing my fingers behind my back and feeling like I was betraying Mama with every word that dropped from my lips. However, Mama was hundreds of miles away in Vienna and I was here, in Paris and all alone.

The Duchesse gave me a quick shrewd look then shrugged her glittering shoulders and carried on. 'We were all terribly shocked when we found out that Madame la Comtesse du Barry had been invited to the dinner party tonight. It was supposed to be for family only and she may well be the King's mistress but that certainly doesn't make her one of us, does it?' She pulled an exquisite painted porcelain snuff box from her bosom and flicked it open before offering it to me. 'Do you?' She smiled at my disgusted expression. 'Ah, no, you do not.' She tapped some out on to her wrist and sniffed deeply. 'I could not believe my ears when I heard that the King had invited that woman here but what can we do? He is the master here and we have no option but to do as he says or find ourselves shipped off to the provinces, there to kick our poor heels amidst the cows and rustics.' She shook her pretty feather covered head dolefully . 'No, no, that would not do at
all
and so, my dear one, we endure and so must you.'

Oh really?

16
th
May, midnight, my wedding day.

The royal family returned to Versailles immediately after the concert and I was left alone at La Muette with my attendants. I felt rather despondent as I walked through dark corridors back to my lovely rooms that overlooked the Bois de Boulogne but my mood soon lifted when Madame de Noailles, who was quivering with an unusual excitement drew my attention to a huge crimson velvet coffer that had been placed beside my lace and ribbon bedecked dressing table.
 

'It was his Majesty's wish that you be presented with the royal jewels before your wedding,' she said as I ran forward and pulled open the lid. 'These jewels were worn by Her Majesty Queen Marie and also Her Highness the Dauphine.'

I was barely listening, so excited was I by the wonderful, glittering, sumptuous display laid out before me on duck egg blue silk shelves. I allowed my fingers to trail over rubies, sapphires, emeralds, pearls and dazzling, perfect diamonds. It seemed incredible that all this wealth, this splendour should have fallen into my hands.
 

Madame de Noailles stepped forward and pointed out a particularly fine pearl necklace. 'This belonged to the Queen Marie Thérèse, consort of Louis XIV,' she said in a lecturing tone. 'He presented it to her upon the occasion of the birth of their son, the Dauphin.'
 

I nodded, unable to take my eyes off the piles of necklaces, parures, stomachers, rings, brooches and bracelets. 'How fascinating,' I murmured, lifting out an exquisite diamond bracelet and fastening it around my slim wrist before turning it this way and that so that I could admire it.

'That was one of the late Dauphine's favourite pieces,' Madame de Noailles said with a disapproving sniff. 'She often wore it when she played cards in the evening. I believe that she was wearing it the evening that she was taken ill.' She paused. 'Before she died.'

I felt suddenly sick and hastily pulled the bracelet off.
 

16
th
May, half past
seven.

We leave for Versailles in half an hour and I am already sitting here in all of my finery and diamonds, waiting to go. I have been up since dawn and have not had nearly enough sleep thanks to the thunderstorm that raged overhead in the middle of the night, the seemingly endless sound of rain beating against the window panes and the flutterings of panic deep in my stomach.
 

I had to rush to my little privy to be horribly sick after the fashionable Parisian coiffure had finished dressing, pomading and powdering my hair and poor Mesdames de Chaulnes and Mailly had to hold my ringlets, lace sleeves and blue satin skirts back as I clutched the china chamber pot and heaved and shuddered.

'You worry too much,' Jeanne de Mailly remarked afterwards with a kindly smile as I wiped my face with a linen cloth and tried to compose myself. 'Everyone here thinks that you are exquisite and absolutely charming.' She took my hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. 'You really have nothing to worry about.'

'But what if it all goes wrong?' I said dubiously. 'After all, the Dauphin can barely bring himself to look at me! What if he doesn't like me? Can he have me sent back home to Vienna?'

Jeanne rolled her eyes. 'Dear me, did no one take you aside before you left Vienna and tell you what an odd, cold fish your
fiancé
is?' She took a cup of freshly made orange blossom tea from Madame de Chaulnes and handed it to me. 'Drink this. I can't promise you any miracles but it will at least help to calm your nerves.'

I drank thankfully. 'So the Dauphin doesn't really hate me?' I asked nervously.
 

Both ladies laughed. 'No, he really doesn't hate you,' Madame de Chaulnes replied with a smile. 'It's just the way that he is.' She shrugged. 'You should consider yourself fortunate that he isn't a shameless flirt like his grandfather.'

'Marie-Paule!' Madame de Mailly stared at her friend, clearly torn between consternation and amusement. 'Be careful!'
 

Madame de Chaulnes just shrugged again. 'Oh why not just say it?' she said, taking away my cup of tea and putting it back on the table beside us. 'It's only the truth after all.'

16
th
May, later, Versailles.

I am here! I am finally here! I feel almost giddy with excitement and can't stop looking about myself in awe, pinching myself as I take in the expanse of shiny parqueted floors, the tall windows overlooking the enormous park, the lofty ceilings where the reflected pink, blue and yellow light from enormous crystal chandeliers dances and scatters. Everywhere I look there is beautiful furniture, flowers, statues and paintings. Very little in this palace is designed to be practical, even the chairs are spindly legged, exquisite and horribly uncomfortable but somehow that doesn't matter at all.