"Yes?" I replied.
"It's time to leave for Versailles!" she told me as she came into the yard from our back door. I closed my book and stood up. I had only been waiting for this moment for a few days, but it felt like forever, so long, since Mirabelle had told me the truth last week, since I knew what had happened to my real mother.
"Is Father suspicious?" I asked, knowing what could happen if Mirabelle and I were caught.
"No," she told me, "He believes we are just visiting Versailles together."
"What will you tell him once I go to Paris?" I asked. This was the part that concerned me most. I trusted Mirabelle completely, but I was still afraid.
"I will say we were out riding, and you got lost," Mirabelle replied, "He won't know where you went. Your secret is safe with me. I promise." I smiled and went in with Mirabelle to help load the carriage. To be perfectly honest, I was scared; scared that Mira and I might be caught, scared that Father wouldn't believe Mira and hurt her… If I voiced all of my fears, the list would be a mile long. But it didn't matter; I was going to Versailles, then Paris… I would figure out the rest of my plan once I got to Paris.
This whole mess started nearly sixteen years ago when I was born. I'd had a twin brother, but he died two days after we were born. My father, furious that I wasn't a boy and because my brother had died, flew into a rage and tried to beat my mother. She ran away a few days later because she was so afraid; Mirabelle, her sister, became my mother. I didn't know that until Mirabelle told me. She said my mother was still alive, still somewhere in France. When Mira had told me the truth, she swore to me that she would get me to Paris to find my mother. Once we bade Father goodbye and started off, Mirabelle handed me a small package. I took it and asked her what it was.
"I don't know," she told me, "Your mother sent it to me last week. I told her of my plan to let you know the truth and help you get to Paris, and she sent me this." I looked down at the package; it was small, no bigger than my hand. A letter was tied to the top with string. When I took the letter, black writing was revealed on the package: Do Not Open Until You Reach Notre Dame! I stared at the message blankly. I sighed and opened the letter.
Dearest Alianore,
I cannot believe it. In a little less than a month, we will finally meet! I will finally be able to see the girl you are, and you, in turn, will see me for the first time. When we find each other, I promise we will talk and make up for the missed years. Bonne Chance, ma fille!
Maman
I read the note again and again, then handed it to Mirabelle. She smiled.
"You will find her quickly," Mira promised, "Do not worry." I wasn't worried… just very, very nervous. There were several ways this could go wrong…
"Why don't you try to nap?" Mirabelle suggested. "You look exhausted." I laughed and took her advice; before I fell asleep, I took Mother's letter back and held it to my chest, feeling the beat of my frantic heart beneath the parchment.
Before I knew it, Mirabelle was shaking me awake and whispering, "Aly, we're in Versailles." I jerked awake and rubbed my eyes. Mira's mansion was enormous; it was easily twice the size of our barn. Mira and I left the carriage and went into the stately front hall. I gasped, and Mira laughed.
"This is much grander than I expected," I breathed. Mira shrugged.
"It is quite grand on the inside," she commented, "But wait until I take you riding on the grounds." I smiled. The prospect of a ride around the grounds of such a magnificent place was enormously appealing. Mira laughed at my excitement and led me to my room. It was large and spacious with a window that opened above the gardens. I leaned out and smelled the fresh air.
"Aly, hurry!"Mira called. "I want to take you riding before it gets dark." I followed Mira to the stables eagerly. She showed me the horse I would be riding; it was a large black mare with a white star on her forehead, one white stocking, and a little white on the end of her tail, as if it had been dipped in white paint.
"She's beautiful!" I told Mira. "What is her name?"
"Gypsy," Mira replied, "She is calm and gentle most of the time, by she has a streak of spirit several miles wide. I know you're a good ride, and it takes a good, patient hand to control her." I smiled.
"I'm sure Gypsy and I will get along very well," I laughed. Gypsy tossed her head in agreement.