Or escaping Lord Rotherby, and living dishonestly?
A sudden ache fanned out from her core. There was no doubt she was escaping Lord Rotherby, but how could a marriage of unrequited love be more honest than making her own way and trying to forget him? She forced her thoughts to the very short, very properly worded letter of confirmation she’d received from Sir Weston:
Your wish is my command, Miss Fairfax. I will make the necessary arrangements and look for you at Versailles.
She frowned as she glanced down at her new cream satin gown, with a delicate fabric rose sewn into the layers at her waist. She’d never worn such a fine dress, even in London, and yet all she could think was that the only link between her old life and her new, was a gentleman who talked like an etiquette book.
‘C’est magnifique, mademoiselle,’ Veronique said, clapping her hands. ‘Et maintenant,with the domino, like so, and your new mask…’ She stepped back to admire her handiwork, a smile of satisfaction spreading across her face. ‘Vous êtes très, très belle,’ she whispered, her eyes dancing as she guided Sophie to the looking glass. ‘Regardez!’
Sophie stared, and had to agree that Veronique had completely outdone herself, for the lady looking back was no longer Miss Sophie Fairfax, but Madame Marie-Louisa Dupres’s mysterious and elegant friend, passing through Paris for just a few days.
She pulled her domino drape over the expensive satin and adjusted the delicate filigree mask beneath her hood. She was part debutante, part deception, part something she didn’t even know yet. She had a plan and was a hair’s breadth from making her escape, so why then did she feel so hollow?
‘Bon chance,’ she whispered to herself, though the words echoed coldly.
* * *
The journey to Versailles turned out to be unlike any Sophie had undertaken before. Not only did the distance necessitate several liveried outriders, but Horace also managed to take charge of the whole ensemble.
‘For the guvnor said I should drive you meself,’ the disgruntled tiger said with a scowl, squeezed into a comical affair of mustard and green velvet.
One glance at Lu Lu’s penitent smile only confirmed Sophie’s suspicion that she’d had little choice but to accept the tiger’s assistance. Yet when they joined the cavalcade of coaches, phaetons and barouches making their way out of Paris, she was relieved he held the reins.
‘Mais oui. He has overtaken the dreadful Comtesse d’Avignon with her enormous hair!’ Lu Lu giggled as their coach lurched and swung around another.
Sophie gazed at her charismatic friend, her black domino contrasting starkly with her voluminous gown of primrose silk, and wished she could capture the moment. In truth she was a vision, with her sparkling ebony hair draped luxuriously against her creamy skin, and her cherry lips smiling mischievously beneath her mask.
She exhaled beneath her own intricate gold filigree affair. Lu Lu had offered friendship when she’d needed it most, yet tonight she would have to deceive her. It was a sombre thought as the coach lurched forwards again, speeding them towards her very last ball, for while she could hope to live quietly in the provinces, there was no doubt the ton would never accept Miss Sophie Fairfax again.
It was nearly two hours later, when their coach finally pulled into the grandest courtyard she’d ever seen in her life. Sophie peered out of the coach window at the dusk-bathed palace, and was briefly lost for words.
‘Ah, the first time you see Versailles… It isspecial, is it not,ma chérie?’ Lu Lu smiled from the seat opposite.
Sophie nodded wistfully, wishing her sisters were there to witness the shimmering horseshoe-shaped palace, alight with more flickering lanterns than she could count. It was truly a palace of dreams, set in an immense and extravagant park, featuring fountains, follies and pale, gleaming statues.
‘It is indeed very grand, just as the Sun King intended,’ Lu Lu added as a liveried footman handed them from their coach. ‘But wait until you see the Hall of Mirrors,ma chérie. C’est magnifique!’
Sophie nodded again, suddenly grateful for her domino as she glanced back at the long line of coaches behind them. She was not expecting to know anyone other than Sir Weston and Lu Lu, but there was always a chance some of the London ton might be in attendance at an event as grand as this. Then she turned to gaze at the formal wings and entrances to the palace and gardens, that were untouched by the ravages of revolution. The whole park still echoed with the voices of the rich and powerful, and briefly, she recalled Madame Montmartre’s reservations. She frowned fleetingly. It was true there was a strange excitement lacing the air, almost as though the palace was not yet ready to forget its recent history.
‘Well then, Versailles, we are a pair, for we have both fallen from grace,’ Sophie whispered, collecting her skirts. ‘But maybe tonight we can begin again.’
Then she swept into the torch-lit Cour d’Honneur, with her head held as high as any fallen ghost.
* * *
Sophie had never seen anything as elaborate and ostentatious as the Palace of Versailles, despite Napoleon’s recent occupation. Each successive apartment was filled with more flickering chandeliers, rich gold-thread wall hangings and marble busts depicting Roman deities and emperors that Josephine would have known in a heartbeat. Yet, despite the new King’s will for the palace to shine like the crown jewel it once had, the scars of the revolution were still there, in the damaged walls and gilded moulding that seemed too fragile to have survived.
‘Regarde, ma chérie!’ Lu Lu exclaimed, seemingly oblivious to the history around her, ‘a champagne fountain!’
‘Bienvenue, mesdames,’ a footman in a black mask said, handing them both a glass.
Lu Lu beamed in delight, while Sophie accepted warily, conscious her friend had not exactly proven herself to be a responsible escort at the last gathering. Yet even she could not deny the atmosphere was intoxicating, as though the palace herself recalled grand balls of the past and was permeating the air with their echo. She took a delicate sip, and was alarmed to find herself surrounded by masked guests almost immediately, vying for their attention.
‘La!Monsieur, I have told you already I don’t dance with peacocks,’ Lu Lu said, rapping one gentleman with a jade cloak and excessively sculpted hair.
‘Let me guess,’ another murmured behind Sophie. ‘Helen of Troy, perchance?’
He circled in front of her while Lu Lu gurgled with laughter.
