The Vicomte's Masquerade: Georgians in Paris by Sofi Laporte

Author:Sofi Laporte [Laporte, Sofi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lapuerta Publishing
Published: 2024-04-17T00:00:00+00:00

The girls took a walk in the Jardins des Tuileries, not far from their residence. The whole park was laid out in symmetric squares with boxwood hedges and cypress trees, and statues in between now dormant flower beds. In the springtime, the garden would be awash with colour when the pink magnolia trees, the white cherry blossoms, yellow daffodils, and red tulips bloomed. They walked down the main alley, starting at the Palais des Tuileries, toward the Place de Louis XV. Since the weather was pleasant, the park was filled with people strolling about: couples, macaronis, ladies with parasols, and children hitting hoops with sticks.

Violet pulled Mellie onto a nearby bench.

“There,” she said. “Now tell me why you ran away from your bridegroom and why your face is identical to that of Persephone when she realises she’s stuck in the underworld.” Violet pointed at a statue next to them of Persephone with an expression of dismay and horror on her face.

“I don’t know what to do, Vi,” Mellie burst out. Then she told her the whole story.

When she finished, Violet shook her head. “You can’t keep running from him forever. I daresay you would feel so much better if you finally faced him.”

Mellie hung her head. How was it that her sister, five years her junior, appeared to be more mature than she was? “You are probably right. I am being silly, aren’t I?”

“If you really can’t bear the idea of marrying him, and I don’t blame you in the least, I’d be honest about your feelings. Go to him. Talk to him. Tell him you want to call it off.”

“All hell will break loose if I do that.”

“Yes, it might. But what is the alternative? Keep running away from him? Wait until the eleventh hour and desert him at the moment of vows?”

Mellie twisted the silk between her fingers and crumpled it. “I dread having to face him.”

“I understand that. It’s not pleasant. But consider the alternative: a lifetime of being married to someone you loathe.” Violet shook her head. “I know we’re expected to accept that fate, but I certainly won’t when it’s my turn.” She threw her head back.

“The thing is, Vi, if I call off the wedding, it will cause such a scandal. It will destroy not only my reputation, but yours as well. And Mama’s and Aunt Wilma’s. We’ll become social pariahs.”

Violet shrugged. “I daresay I’d survive.”

“No, you won’t. You know you won’t. You’ve been looking forward to your Season all these years. If I don’t marry him, you won’t even have a Season.” Mellie rested her head against her sister’s shoulder. “But if I do marry him, your marriage prospects will improve drastically. All doors will open, and your hand will be in great demand.”

“I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me, Mel,” Violet said. “Don’t do it.”

An idea occurred to Mellie. “Vi? How many hôtels are there in the Faubourg St Germain? You’ve been here in Paris longer than me, so you would know.

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