The Sunflowers: A Novel of the Sun King's Court

Chapter Eight

Margot.

The girls had to wait a few weeks for their plan to take shape. Margot and Cecile kept up with their schooling and lessons in deportment as they strained to listen to each conversation between the Comte and the Baronne, who had developed a very cordial relationship throughout the last few weeks. Between the four of them, they had all fallen into an easy pattern, all preparing for the eventual triumphant arrival at Versailles, where they would outshine even the ladies who had been there for years, and dazzle everyone with their impeccable manners and sparkling wit.

"I've hired the best tutors for Margot," the Comte said to the Baronne d'Aubront one night at supper. "And since your husband did so much business with me in the past, and has left you so soon, God rest his soul, and since Cecile is of an age with Margot, I am more than happy to help you with her education as well."

The Baronne d'Aubront bowed her head, a slight smile playing on the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Monsieur le Comte. We will never be able to repay you for your generosity."

The Comte shook his head, holding up his hand. "Madame la Baronne, your husband didn't leave you and your daughter well provided for. It's my privilege to be of service to you."Margot caught Cecile's eye. Cecile looked pale, and she was staring down at her plate. Poor Cecile. She hated all discussion of this and her father's death, and what might have happened had he not had the good fortune to die when he did.

"And now," the Comte said, "I'm afraid that I have some disappointing news. I have to leave for Nantes tonight to see to some business affairs. It's rather spur-of-the-moment, I know. But Margot is here, and I can have my man assist you with anything you might need..."

"Monsieur le Comte," the Baronne replied, "it will only be for a short time. I have my Cecile to watch over, and I would be obliged to act as a chaperone to your Margot, if only to repay you for your generosity toward my daughter and me. It's the least I can do..."

"That is very kind of you, Madame la Baronne, but as I said before, there is no need for you to. Margot has her governess and the majordomo. She has done well enough by herself, haven't you, my dear?"

Margot started, then nodded quickly. "Oh, yes, Granduncle, I have!" she replied, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, but neither the Comte nor the Baronne seemed to pay it any mind.

"There now! You see, Madame la Baronne?" the Comte said, laughing. "Margot will be no trouble to you. The girls will have their lessons like normal, and you shall oversee them, and it it will be as though I was never gone."

"And you will be back soon, Monsieur le Comte?" the Baronne asked.

"Madame la Baronne, I shall be back as soon as I can," the Comte promised.

Margot stared at Cecile meaningfully. Cecile's brow knitted for a moment, as though she was trying to understand.

But it had to be clear to her, too. Grandoncle Roland's sudden departure would give them the perfect opportunity to see just exactly what his business might entail. They would only have to contend with the Baronne.

******

A few nights later the Baronne attended a dinner at the home of another noblewoman, leaving Margot and Cecile alone with full run of the mansion until her return.

"Do you know when she'll be back?" Margot asked her after they had finished their own supper. They had retreated to the music room, ostensibly for Margot to help Cecile practice the virginal and learn some of the new Lully songs, which Margot's granduncle had purchased the sheet music of.

Cecile carefully played a few notes, then shrugged, lowering her voice. "She said that they were being treated to a play of some kind, and that it might be quite late. Really, Margot, she's taken to the life of Parisian noblewoman like a ducjk to water. She might not be back until tomorrow morning..."

"Then that gives us some time," Margot whispered, her heartbeat quickening with anticipation.

"But how will we explain it to the servants if we're caught?" Cecile queried, worry making her voice tremble.

"Oh, that's simple! He keeps his books there. We'll just say that we wanted to read one of his books. Have you read Utopia by Sir Thomas More?" Margot asked her.

Cecile shook her head. "No, I haven't. Papa never thought it valuable to educate me too much, or so he said..."

"Well, never mind that," Margot interrupted. "We'll say that we're getting Utopia, because you've never read it, if we're caught..."

"When will we go?" Cecile whispered.

"Later tonight. Everyone will be retired by then," Margot replied.

Cecile nodded, biting her lip nervously. "Later tonight, then," she repeated, then returned to her music practice.

The girls retired as they normally would. Margot went to her room and readied for bed, then dismissed her lady's maid for the night. "I promise I'll call if I need anything," she told Mariette, who looked at her askance, but left Margot's bedroom anyhow.

After some moments, Margot heard a slight scratching at her door, then rose from her dressing table to open it. Cecile stood in the hallway, looking like a ghost clad in her nightgown, with wide eyes and a pale face. She held a candlestick in her trembling hand. Margot reached for her own candle, then padded out into the hallway, closing the door to her bedroom behind her. Gently she reached for Cecile's hand to steady it.

"There, now," she whispered. "There's nothing to be frightened of. It's just Grandoncle Roland, after all."

Cecile drew a deep breath, then squared her shoulders. "I know," she replied. "But still, it seems so awful to be sneaking into his study, doesn't it?"

Margot sighed as she stepped in front of Cecile to lead the way to Roland's study. "But you were the one who was curious," she reminded Cecile. "Now come on. Once we've seen it, that will be that, and we go to bed with our questions answered."

Cecile nodded, then fell silent as they walked through the silent corridors of the Hotel de St. Leon toward Roland's study. There were no sounds at all but for their breathing, the rustle of their linens, the shuffling of their slippers on the ground, and the ticking of the great clock in the corridor closest to the door to Grandoncle Roland's study. Cecile let out a shriek when it struck midnight, nearly dropping her candlestick. Margot clapped her hand over Cecile's mouth, telling her to shush. As soon as the hour had passed, she turned away from Margot, placing her hand on the doorknob.

Ever so slowly and quietly, she turned it, opening the door to the study so that she and Cecile could enter.