Chapter Fifteen
Following her chaperone’sgaze, Serena saw her grandparents unexpectedly making their way toward them, not in any sort of costume except the obligatory half masks to show they’d made an effort. After she kissed their cheeks, as did Madame Fournier, and after Malcolm shook Henri’s hand, her grand-père explained how he couldn’t resist bringing his lovely wife to such a grand event.
And why shouldn’t they come out and enjoy the museum?However, they weren’t usually impulsive, and Adèle’s eyes appeared wary.
“Is everything fine, Mémère?” Serena asked.
“Of course it is, dear one.” And the older woman threaded her arm through hers. “Let’s go see the new painting.”
They walked through the gallery under the brilliant sunlight streaming in from the cleverly placed windows in the ceiling. FindingThe Coronation of Napoleon,recently lent to the Louvre by its painter, Jacques-Louis David, upon the emperor’s return, would not be difficult. It was reputed to be at least thirty-two feet long and nearly twenty feet high.
Madame Fournier stayed with them, and Pépère walked behind with Malcolm, who’d raised his mask to the top of his forehead while they spoke.
When Serena came upon the painting, she gasped. With her grand-mère on one side of her and her chaperone on the other, they stood far back in order to take in the scene of Napoleon’s coronation at Notre Dame. Depicted in their finery, a large group of courtiers and the Pope, himself, were practically life-size. It appeared so realistic, Serena almost believed she could step directly into the great cathedral.
Distracting her, however, were the men of her party who had yet to admire David’s magnificent work, but instead were talking a few feet away. At something her grandfather said, Malcolm’s gaze shot directly toward her.
She doubted they were discussing rakes. Raising an eyebrow, she hoped Malcolm would tell her later. At that moment, however, all he did was frown and look away. A minute later, he and her grand-père joined them to exclaim over the Louvre’s newest piece.
With its brilliant reds and golds and the shimmering play of light, Monsieur David had captured the moment when Napoleon, having crowned himself, made his first wife an empress, holding a crown over Josephine’s bowed head. The solemnity of the occasion had been painted on every face, and the symbol of an emperor’s vast power was clear.
When they turned as a group to enter the next hall, Serena feared she would never get another moment alone with Malcolm that day. Yet when her grand-mère chatted with Madame Fournier, and her grand-père was examining a painting by Monsieur Gros depicting a victorious Napoleon visiting a Prussian battlefield with cadavers strewn in the foreground, Serena took up a place by Malcolm’s elbow.
“What were you and my grand-père discussing?”
“Your grandfather was worried about any misbehavior,” he told her.
“But we had a chaperone?” she protested, embarrassed her Pépère was thinking such things, no matter if they could be true.
“Not between us,” Malcolm explained with a wry grin, but his glance fell to her mouth, and Serena’s insides tingled with awareness. Then he shook his head to break the spell.
“Monsieur Renault was thinking more of trouble between soldiers and anyone suspected of being a royalist.”
Serena felt her heart sink. “Surely, nothing will happen here at the Louvre. Would anyone risk the national treasures being damaged?”
Malcolm shrugged. “Your grandfather said he has heard soldiers are combing the city because of a certain incident at the catacombs.”
They stared at one another in silence. Then she whispered, “Are you saying my grand-père came to warn us of—”
Shouting came from the front of the building interrupting her. Quick as a whip, Malcolm herded Serena in the opposite direction, away from the noise. Henri was just as swift to grab Adèle Renault by the arm and also Madame Fournier, and the five of them went deeper into the museum’s galleries.
