Page 100 of Echo in the Wind

“I did,” said the comte, “and he admired many things about your government.”

“True,” she admitted, “but he also returned to Paris.”

“As any good Frenchman would,” said d’Artois. Then leaning in close, he whispered, “Repartee with you, my lady, stirs my blood.”

Joanna’s cheeks heated. She had no desire to stir the blood of the king’s handsome brother. So instead, she exchanged pleasantries with the queen and drank more champagne.

When a footman in red livery passed around a silver tray of canapés, Joanna looked over the small pieces of bread holding tidbits of various foods and took a small onion omelette atop a round bit of toast.

“The tiny omelettes are très bonnes,” quipped d’Artois, taking one from the tray and popping it into his mouth. He downed his champagne and asked for another. It was immediately supplied.

Joanna ate her canapé at a more leisurely pace, watching the queen and her guests. Most of them were ladies who, like their queen, wore elaborate gowns and powdered hair under their plumed hats.

Only one other woman wore her hair unpowdered and Joanna was anxious to meet her.

The queen ate sparingly and drank not at all. To Joanna, she said, “We have been discussing Beaumarchais’ play, Le Mariage de Figaro. The king initially opposed a public appearance in Paris and for good reason.” When Joanna looked at her with raised brows, the queen added, “The play is a comedy that subjects the nobility to ridicule.”

“But it is highly amusing,” put in the comte.

“Yes, and we enjoyed it.” Then to Joanna, the queen said, “After it became very popular at Court, I thought it should be shown in Paris. Louis allowed it to go forward and the first performance at the end of April in the théâtre de l’Odéon was a grand success. But now I wonder if my request was wise.”

D’Artois filled Joanna’s glass from a bottle he had sitting on the grass by his feet and looked toward the queen. “Louis can deny Madame nothing.”

The queen’s only answer was a frown that marred her beautiful face as if still concerned she had wrongly argued for the play to be shown to public audiences.

“A speech in the fifth act particularly troubled the king,” said d’Artois. “I memorized it. Would you like to hear me recite from it, Lady Joanna?”

“Only if Her Majesty is comfortable with that.”

“Oh, do tell her, Charles. By now it is all over Paris.”

The comte began to recite. “Nobility, fortune, rank, position! How proud they make a man feel! What have you done to deserve such advantages? Put yourself to the trouble of being born—nothing more.”

“Oh my,” said Joanna. She looked at the queen. “I do see what you mean.” Joanna felt sympathy for the queen whose age had to be near her own. Marie Antoinette had been very young when she assumed the French throne. How difficult it must have been to be married by proxy at fourteen to a young man she had yet to meet and then summarily packed off to a foreign country, the enemy of her own. What did such a girl know of being Queen of France?

“I admire your lovely hair, Lady Joanna,” said the queen. Joanna thought she was searching for a more pleasant subject. “My husband spoke of it.”

Joanna met the young queen’s brilliant blue gaze. “I must confess, Madame, when I saw you and your ladies today, my first thought was that I should have powdered it.”

Marie Antoinette shook her head. Her powdered hair, fixed in place, did not move. “Oh, no, I am glad you did not. You see, you and I both have red hair.”

Joanna was surprised but then she remembered what the king had said. “I did not know.”

“Mine is a lighter shade,” said the queen. “Few at Court have seen it au naturel.”

D’Artois leaned over Joanna to speak to the queen. “I think your hair is lovely.” Joanna was certain his arm pressing into her breast had been intentional. Relief flooded her when he sat back.

Joanna sipped her champagne thinking she might ask for another canapé to go with it. Above her, birds sang in the trees. A breeze wafted through the air. “The gardens are so lovely.” She spoke her thought aloud.

The queen leaned forward to speak to d’Artois. “Charles, you must introduce Lady Joanna to my ladies and show her around the gardens. The flowers are splendid this time of year.”

“As you wish, Madame.” To Joanna, he said, “Drink up, Mademoiselle. We must not disappoint Her Majesty.”

Joanna smiled at the queen and downed what was left of her champagne. A footman immediately collected her glass.

She rose and curtsied to the queen. “Thank you, Madame. I have so enjoyed meeting you.”

Chapter 24