“More than a little. You look like a street urchin.” The queen came forward and reached out to gently touch Juliette’s left cheek. “But yes, I know those bold eyes. I thought you were dead. They told me of the massacre at the abbey and I thought…” She trailed off and shivered. “Did you hear what those brutes did to the Princess de Lambelle?”
“Yes.”
“Her head was on a pike and they told me they shot her limbs from a cannon.” Tears misted the queen’s eyes. “She was safe in England and returned to stay by my side and they killed her for it. They’re killing everyone. Soon there will be no one left.” She closed her eyes tightly andwhen she opened them the tears had vanished. “And how is my sweet Celeste? Is your mother well, Juliette?”
“Yes.”
“And safe?”
“Yes, she fled France for Spain during the massacres.”
“Bon. I often think of her and pray for her safety.”
“Are you comfortable here?”
“Oh, yes, it is not too bad. They see that we have decent enough food and the guards are not too unpleasant. They even brought me a clavichord from the Louvre.” She frowned. “Of course, they stare a great deal. I do not like to be stared at.”
She had never liked excessive attention, Juliette remembered. That was why she would run away from the principal palace to the smaller palace of Petit Trianon or the village of Le Hameau to play among her flowers and lavish toys. “Perhaps they’ve never seen a queen before.”
Marie Antoinette raised her head. “Well, they’ve seen one now. I’ll show them how a queen deports herself.” Then the momentary regalness vanished and she was once more only a sad-faced woman who was older than her years. “You must go, child. It was kind of you to come and see me, but it’s dangerous for you to stay. That grotesque Hebert is in charge of our captivity. He’s a truecanaille. He would like nothing better than to cause me more pain by hurting you.”
Juliette drew a deep breath. “I came for a reason,” she rushed on. “I want the Wind Dancer.”
The queen stiffened. “You always did. Even as a child you loved my statue.” Her expression became cold. “The Wind Dancer is mine. I won’t give it up.”
“Jean Marc Andreas still wishes to own it. You remember Jean Marc?”
“How could I forget him?” Marie Antoinette said dryly. “He’s not a man who slips readily from one’s memory.”
“He’s willing to give me two million livres for the statue. Wouldn’t that be enough money to buy your way out of prison and help you to escape to Austria?”
The queen went still. “Perhaps. The guards have been willing to accept small bribes to provide us with additional comforts.”
“Tell me where the Wind Dancer is and I’ll go and get it. I’ll sell it to Jean Marc and then give you the money.”
“Not to me.” The queen frowned in thought. “I could do nothing with it here. However, there’s a group loyal to me in the city who would possibly help. Go to the Café du Chat on the Pont Neuf and ask for William Darrell.”
The lamplighter had finished his round and was walking slowly toward them across the courtyard.
“There’s not much time. Where may I find the Wind Dancer?”
Marie Antoinette’s gaze searched Juliette’s. “Can I trust you, Juliette? I meant to save the Wind Dancer for my little Louis Charles. He may not ever be the king of France, but the Wind Dancer would provide for him.”
“It’s better to save yourself and the rest of the royal household than a statue.”
“Yes, I suppose…”
“He’s coming. Be quick.”
“It’s in the Belvedere. I had Monsieur Minque include a cache beneath the sphinx when he first designed it. I had the Wind Dancer hidden there when they told me that horrible mob was marching on Versailles.”
Juliette was thinking frantically, trying to remember. The Belvedere was a pavilion behind the Petit Trianon but there were several sphinxes flanking the steps of the Belvedere. “Which sphinx?”
“The one on the left of the door directly facing the lake.”
The queen put her hands in her fur muff. “Do not betray me, Juliette. I have so few people I can trust.”
She turned and hurried away, and a moment later she disappeared into the entrance of the large Tower.
