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

Chapter Fifteen

Margot.

Though the salon was truly diverting, Margot counted the minutes until she was able to get home to get a better look at the volume that she had Cecile had taken out of her granduncle's study.

It wasn't an uncommon thing for men like the Comte, men who could be considered intellectuals with open minds, to collect old books and arcane works and seek out knowledge. But it was quite another to do so against the commandments of the church and the King's laws. Yet there was such a delicious feeling in rebelling against the laws of the Church and the King. She would have to be very careful about it, though; who knew what one of her maids might discover if she was negligent and didn't keep the banned book tucked away in a safe place? Perhaps, if they found it among her belongings, they would go straight to the church and the King's authorities to tell them about what they had found, in fear of their immortal soul. And not only Margot and her granduncle, but possibly Cecile and her mother, would find themselves imprisoned and questioned by both the King's men and men from the Church.

And that was the last thing Margot wanted.

"You're quiet, Margot," the Baronne remarked on the way back to the Hotel de St. Leon. "I thought that you would have much to sat about the salon and its guests. Did you meet anyone there whom you found to be particularly intriguing?"

Margot averted her eyes from the Baronne's curious stare, racking her brains. As soon as she thought of a name, she turned to look up at the Baronne.

"Louise de Keroualle," she replied, and at this, the Baronne's face lit up.

"Yes, isn't she a charming little thing? Her aunt is to take her to court soon. I imagine she will try to get her niece a position in Madame's household. Which isn't a terrible one, when you think about it. The Duchesse d'Orleans is known to be a very kind benefactress, and there are many dashing young noblemen in her orbit who were quite wealthy and might be in want of a wife. Mademoiselle de Keroualle has no dowry, but she makes up for it in beauty and charm. I think she will marry quite well, when all is said and done. Madame will make sure of it."

Even if the Duchesse d'Orleans was as wonderful as the Baronne was describing, there was her husband, Philippe, the Duc d'Orleans, to contend with. Margot had heard it said that he was a mercurial man, who adored his wife at some turns, but then became bitterly jealous when her naturally charming demeanor and flawless manners made her the star of the court. He could be very cruel to her, and so many times he encouraged the young men in his  company, including his lover, the Chevalier de Lorraine, to follow suit, making the poor Duchesse's life in the Palais Royal or at Saint Cloud as miserable as could be.

"And who is to see to our court appointments, Maman?" Cecile asked, her eyes wide with curiosity. "We're not as well connected as Madame de Keroualle."

The Baronne leaned back against the cushioned seat, half-closing her eyes, no doubt an effect of the copious amounts of wine she had consumed at the salon. "Why, yes, we are, my darling girl. The Comte de St. Leon is much more connected than we know. He has more connections at court than Madame de Keroualle does, I can assure you of that! Imagine, the two of you being appointed to Madame's household before that little bumpkin of a niece of hers is!" And the Baronne laughed, placing a hand to her chest to affect a certain air of astonishment at what a little fool Madame de Keroualle's Breton niece was and her idiocy in bringing the girl to Madame d'Albret's salon.

"And what did you think of Louise, Cecile?" the Baronne asked, her hazel eyes resting on her daughter expectantly.

"Oh, I thought she was rather charming," Cecile said. "She has a certain air of sophistication about her that many of the other young ladies didn't have... and she seems so sweet! Don't you agree, Margot?"

Margot glanced at Cecile, who was gazing at her imploringly for some help in this debate against the Baronne. As much as the Baronne cared about her daughter, there was something within her that betrayed a certain harshness about her. Here was a woman who would do anything she could to obtain whatever she had set her sights on, be it securing her daughter a position in the Duchesse d'Orleans's household or a marriage to a young nobleman whom she deemed worthy of her daughter's hand.

"Oh, yes," Margot replied, and Cecile beamed when she said this. "Mademoiselle de Keroualle is quite lovely. As a matter of fact, I have a mind to invite her and her aunt to the Hotel de St. Leon for the afternoon some time next week. Wouldn't that be lovely, Cecile?"

"Oh, I think it would be quite lovely!" Cecile sighed. "I don't think Mademoiselle de Keroualle has ever seen an hotel as magnificent as the Hotel de St. Leon! The Hotel d'Albret is very beautiful, but I've never felt to much at home as I do as the Hotel de St. Leon."

"I think it's a very lovely idea, Margot, provided that your granduncle agrees to it," the Baronne said, the corners of her lips turning down into a frown.

"I think he'll be pleased that I've made friends with some of the other young ladies I've met at the salons, including someone as charming as Mademoiselle de Keroualle," Margot replied coolly. "It is my home, after all, and he has said that I might have guests, provided that there's a chaperone. And with you and Madame de Keroualle there, Madame la Baronne, we will have two! I don't think there will be any trouble at all, do you?"

The Baronne pursed her lips, and two red spots appeared above upon her cheeks, as though she was angry. Let her be, Margot thought, sitting back in her seat and smiling. The Hotel de St. Leon was her house, after all, and the Baronne d'Aubront was merely a guest and not its chatelaine. It would serve her well to be reminded of that.