Page 95 of Echo in the Wind

Vergennes poured the brandy and sat back. He turned his glass in his hand, his steady gaze meeting Jean’s. “As irascible as your father could be, I am quite certain the target was not him, but your brother.”

“Henri? How can that be?” In his mind he saw his brother as he remembered him, young and full of life. “He only made friends.”

“In the past, that might have been true. But for some time, Henri had been making enemies on my behalf. You were not the only one working for me. He, too, offered his services.”

Jean could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Henri?” He recalled Zoé telling him her papa had been away much of the time. “When?”

“It began when you were off capturing English ships. I had enough problems with the Dutch and other matters of foreign affairs, but then the king made me chief of the Council of Finance and domestic matters also became my concern. Your brother helped me expose Jacques Necker, the Director of Finance, for the dangerous man he is. His criticism of the king and spread of false information concerning our credit have weakened the French citizens’ confidence in the monarchy.”

“Exactly what did Henri do for you?” Jean asked, sharing a look with Émile, who sat stone-faced before the minister.

“Henri was my agent, moving among the nobility, secretly gathering information on Necker’s misdeeds, which I then brought to the attention of the king. Eh bien, following this, Necker was removed. Last November, with my support, Charles Alexandre, vicomte de Calonne, became the Controller General of Finances. He is working on a plan to help France out of its dire financial situation.”

“I fear the hour is late for that,” Jean said. He felt the coming storm all too keenly and knew its cause. France’s support of America had cost the country much, leaving it deeply in debt. The peasants distrusted their king, who continued to spend. It was only a matter of time before they rose up in a violent temper. Jean only hoped at the end of it, France would retain what was good while throwing out the bad.

Vergennes nodded. “True, but we must try. Necker did not help us. And among his Swiss friends, there is much bitterness for his being sent from Versailles in disgrace.”

“You believe Necker’s friends wanted to kill my brother?”

The minister sipped his brandy. “I fear it is so. And now they may seek your life believing you are your brother. After all, you and your brother are near twins.” His gaze darted to Jean’s hand. “I see you now wear the Saintonge ring. The first news we had from Saintonge spoke only of your father’s death and Henri’s injuries. Your brother would have been the comte, at least for the short time he lived. It may be that Necker’s friends see your return as Henri’s recovery.”

Jean sat back, looking at the brandy he held in his hand, seeing Joanna’s eyes. “My carriage was attacked near Saintonge. I was not in it, but one of the men spoke of capturing my niece, Henri’s daughter, who is now my ward.”

“Be prudent, mon ami. The wolves circle. They do not realize it is the privateer Jean Donet they hunt.”

“I would have justice.”

Vergennes shrugged. “Oui, and no one will fault you if you get it.”

Reminded of the king’s request, he asked, “Do you know why Louis wants to see me?”

“I told the king you survived Henri, so he knows you are now the comte de Saintonge. When we spoke of you, he recalled with amusement your efforts for his good friend, Monsieur Franklin. I think the young king is rather charmed by your life at sea, as was his grand-père when Monsieur Franklin bragged to him of the many ships you seized. He merely wants to be assured of your loyalty.”

Jean set down his glass and got to his feet. “I thank you for the brandy and the warning, Monsieur.”

Vergennes and Émile stood.

“The king is giving a fete tonight at Versailles,” said Vergennes. “It would be a good time to visit him. Watch carefully the faces in the crowd and you may detect which are your enemies.”

Chapter 23

Versailles

Joanna slipped her arm through Donet’s as they entered the crowd of elegantly attired men and women in the galerie des Glaces, the great hall of mirrors at Versailles. Intimidated by a sight so far removed from her experience, she drew comfort from knowing the man beside her had been invited by the king and could well navigate these waters.

Tall arched windows overlooking the gardens faced a long row of mirrors, equally tall, that reflected the subtle light of a mid-summer’s eve.

It seemed to her a magical place, the courtiers in their silks, satins and brocades with white wigs and powdered hair moving about like sugar sculptures on an iced cake. Even the men had rouged cheeks and lips, a scandalous sight if it were in London.

Donet cut a very different figure here than he did on his ship. Though his black velvet coat, richly embroidered in gold thread, and his gold satin waistcoat spoke of his noble beginnings, his unpowdered ebony hair with its silver streaks hinted of a very different life. He had a masculine aura very unlike the dandies floating about the hall.

Many women turned to admire him, leaving Joanna torn between pride and a rising jealousy.

He placed his hand over hers as his gaze flitted about the room full of mirrors, gilded surfaces and crystal chandeliers. “A bit ostentatious, non?”

“I have never seen anything so grand,” she answered truthfully. “The golden glitter dazzles the eye.”

Beside her, Jean chortled. “I’ll not comment on the pale faces and rouged lips, but that display of gold, light and crystal you call dazzling is what Louis XIV thought necessary to convey the majesty of France.” Donet tilted his head back, gazing up at the barrel-vaulted ceiling. “The paintings above us speak of the Sun King’s victories over the foreign powers that dared to oppose France.” Lowering his head, he gave her a teasing smile. “The hundreds of gilded mirrors tell of his wealth and majesty. He had the building specially positioned to capture the rising and setting of the sun.”