Goddess by Kelly Gardiner

Author:Kelly Gardiner [Gardiner, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2014-06-01T00:00:00+00:00

Act 3, Scene 6

Divertissement

‘HAVE YOU HEARD?’

‘Whatever it is, no doubt you will tell me.’

‘That new singer, Mademoiselle de Maupin—’ ‘I have heard of nothing but Mademoiselle de Maupin for weeks. Pray tell me of something else.’

‘But you won’t believe the latest …’

The Comtesse smiles to herself. Julie’s name is on everyone’s lips, just as she planned. Even here, in her own salon, where the most discreet, the most discerning people in Paris gather. How delightful.

‘The young Comte d’Albert is much taken with her, so I hear.’

‘He’d do better to find himself an heiress to marry.’

‘Surely he can do both. Everyone else does.’

The Comtesse glides past the card tables to greet more guests. She motions to a footman to bring Madame de Sévigné a chair. Hears carriage wheels clatter in the courtyard. Calls for more wine. Listens again.

‘D’Albert has no money of his own, you know.’

‘Don’t worry about him. He’ll do well enough. A war hero now, so the story goes. The darling of Paris society. He’ll be betrothed within a month. Mark my words.’

‘Not if Mademoiselle de Maupin can stop it.’

It’s not often that the Comtesse is seen without a smile—it is one of her most vital assets, after all—but anyone watching at this moment would have seen it vanish. Just for a moment, a heartbeat.

She can’t help it. She glances at the door again, waiting for her darling, her goddess. It is time, she knows, to let Julie go. The grooming, the teaching, the secret love, is over. But it turns out it’s not such an easy thing, after all. Not like the others. You send them on their way, like fledglings, like blessings, and wish them joy.

Not this time.

But she must. She must. The smile returns, if not quite as serene as before.

The footman is at the door again with an announcement. ‘Le Comte d’Albert.’

Ah.

The Comtesse accepts his greetings and his compliments with grace. He bends low over her hand, his yellow hair falling loose, but his eyes glance around the room. He has come for Julie. Of course. So has everyone else.

By the time she arrives, everyone is watching the door. Mademoiselle de Maupin prefers it that way. She lingers on the threshold, gazing around the room for familiar faces—enemies, lovers, former lovers, their husbands or wives—and finds the Comtesse.

A deep bow. Almost extravagant. But before she even straightens up, d’Albert is there.

‘Émilie.’

‘Sieur?’

‘Imagine my surprise at seeing you here.’ It’s pathetic. They both know it.

‘Yes. Imagine.’

The Comtesse feels all the card players and gossips and even the Bishop watching.

‘Forgive me for interrupting, Comte,’ she says, always polite, perhaps dangerously so. ‘Julie, my dear, I want you to meet Madame de Sévigné.’

She puts one hand gently on Julie’s sword arm.

Julie smiles. ‘As you wish.’

But d’Albert won’t go away, follows them across the room, whispering in Julie’s ear so loudly the whole room hears. ‘Meet me tomorrow. Promise you will.’

‘I’m singing tomorrow.’

‘In the morning then. Or afterwards. I will collect you from the theatre.’ He can’t quite keep stride with her.

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