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

Chapter Fourteen

Louise.

When Tante Suzanne mentioned her name, Louise's attention was diverted from the witty exchange in front of her to the widow and the two young girls speaking with her. Tante Suzanne extended her arm out to Louise, who rose and took a few steps so that she might join her aunt in conversing with them.

Tante Suzanne introduced the other guests as the Baronne d'Aubront and her daughter Cecile, and Mademoiselle Marguerite de St. Leon, a young orphan who was in the guardianship of her granduncle, the newly minted Comte de St. Leon. The Baronne d'Aubront and her daughter were from Gascony and had just travelled to Paris from Bordeaux, while Marguerite de St. Leon had lived in Paris for some time.

"Why don't the three of you get acquainted?" Tante Suzanne said, opening her fan and gesturing to one of the empty corners where a few chairs had been set for the guests to have a tete-a-tete.

"I'm sure the three of you will eventually all be at court together! Wouldn't it be wonderful to have friends there already, Louise?" She eyed Louise meaningfully.

Louise blinked a few times, squinting a bit so she could get a better look at the two other girls as they followed her to the corner that Tante Suzanne had indicated. The one named Cecile was dressed in a gown of lilac-colored silk, while Marguerite's was of pale blue. The styles were similar, with lace at the sleeves and throat, and they both wore pearl earrings. Marguerite's drop earrings hung by red ribbons, and she wore a pendant about her neck from which hung a dainty gold pendant. Cecile's pearl earrings and necklace were much smaller than those on Marguerite's earrings, even smaller than the pearls Louise wore that had been borrowed from her cousin. Louise sat down, careful to avert her eyes from the pretty baubles that Marguerite wore lest she feel too jealous. Because there was all too much reason to be jealous; Tante Suzanne had said that despite the fact that her granduncle had inherited the St. Leon title and lands, Marguerite had a substantial fortune of her own and would be quite the catch at court.

"Your gown is so lovely," Marguerite pronounced after a tense, prolonged silence. "Emerald green always reminds me of spring... and it's upon us!"

"Thank you, Mademoiselle de St. Leon," Louise replied. "And may I say, I adore your pendant. I haven't seen anything quite like it at all."

Marguerite laughed, her delicate retrousse nose scrunching up just a bit. "Thank you! It was a pendant of my mother's but the chain broke, so I used the pendant instead. I'll have to have a new chain made, eventually, but for right now, I like it very much."

"It was my idea that she put the pendant on the red ribbon," Cecile said, leaning forward as she spoke. "It matches the ribbons in her earrings. Those were her mother's, too."

"And is your mother in Paris?" Louise asked politely. She wouldn't have to be too clever for this conversation, especially with two other girls who seemed as young and inexperienced in the ways of the world as she was.

Marguerite shook her head. "No, my mother died a few years ago, and I've been in my granduncle's care since. He was in Antwerp for some years before he came to Paris. The convent school was sufficient until recently, when he brought me home and hired a goveress and tutors so that he could see to my education himself."

Louise's eyes widened. Why, this was very intriguing, indeed! "And where was your granduncle, Mademoiselle?"

"Please, if we are to be friends, don't call me Mademoiselle," Marguerite said, leaning over and placing her hand over Louise's. "You may call me Margot. Everyone else does."

And funnily enough, she looked like a Margot, a witty, clever, pert little thing who always knew what to say and when to say it.

I could learn much from her, Louise thought to herself.

"To answer your question," Margot said, sitting back in her chair, "my granduncle has been travelling through Europe on business until very recently, and he has just returned to Paris. Cecile's father did business with Grandoncle Roland." Margot gestured to her friend who had been seated in her own chair, as still as a frightened mouse, nibbling on her lower lip while listening to the other two speak.

"My father died this past winter," Cecile said, "of a stomach ailment. It was quite sudden. He had had some money put aside for us in the care of the Comte de St. Leon, and Maman has used much of it for my education. He suggested to my mother that we stay in their house, so that I might be educated alongside his grandniece." She averted her eyes away from Louise, and Louise noted that her hands trembled as she spoke. Whatever education that Cecile d'Aubront might have received in the Comte de St. Leon's home certainly hadn't helped her, Louise thought, her heart filling with pity for the poor girl. But certainly someone at court would find her to be attractive, if she had enough of a dowry. After all, hadn't Mademoiselle de La Valliere attracted the attention of the King and remained his maitresse-en-titre for some time with that same sort of act?

"That's certainly a pity," Louise said, adjusting her position in her seat so that she could see her aunt and the Baronne d'Aubront talking animatedly and then laughing about something. She wondered what...

"And where have you come from, Louise?" Margot asked her.

Louise turned her attention back to Marguerite, smiling befor she answered. "My family's chateau is just outside of Quimper, in Brittany. I came to Paris with her a few weeks ago."

"Brittany!" Margot exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "Oh, how lovely! Many tales of King Arthur took place in Brittany!"

"It sounds wonderful," Cecile sighed. "Certainly much better than Gascony!"

"Oh, but Gascony is wonderful, too! Alienor d'Aquitaine held her courts of love there," Margot sighed. "Both of you come from such romantic places, and yet here I am, having spent nearly all of my life in Paris!"

"That isn't too terrible," Louise said, reaching over to clasp Margot's hand. "Paris is one of the most splendid cities in the world. It's just as wonderful as Brittany and Gascony are!"And in spite of themselves and in spite of the company they were in, both of them sighed like fourteen-year-old convent girls who mooned over the heroes of poems and fairy tales.

Little girls, Louise thought to herself. They're still little girls, in spite of their rouge and powder and fancy gowns.

And young women who still acted like little girls would be eaten alive at court.