Chapter 2: Supper with the Bonapartes

And so they walked to the Bonapartes' house. When she opened the door, Elisa shouted, "Sorry I'm late. I have a surprise for you!" The whole family came to the door and stared at Mireille in astonishment. Mireille felt herself surrounded by her close friends, the only family she'd ever known. And then she was caught up in an embrace.

"Mireille!" shouted Napoleon as he held her closely. "How glad I am to see you here. I wish I'd been there when you and Elisa had your adventure on Corsica. She told me all about it, of course. But you have got to tell us what you've been doing all this time." He turned slightly, and Mireille noticed a fashionably-dressed young woman at his side. She was about the same age as Elisa, and around the same height, with dark brown hair and brown eyes. "And I'd like to introduce you to my sweetheart, Désirée Clary. She's the daughter of a silk merchant here."

"I've told Mireille all that already," interrupted Elisa, with a smile.

"Of course you did," said Napoleon. " Désirée, this is Mireille de Remy, the one I've spoken of so often before. She's like another sister to us."

Désirée 's face lit up in a warm smile. "I am so happy to meet you at last, Mireille. Napoleon has told me so much about you, I feel I know you already."

"I am very pleased to meet you as well," said Mireille, with an attempt at a smile.

Then she noticed Elisa had taken the hand of a tall soldier in his early thirties. He was very tall, with brown hair, and looked younger than his age. "Mireille, this is Felix Baciocchi," she said.

Mireille took his hand and said, "And I feel I know you already. Elisa has told me so much about you."

Felix smiled warmly. "I am very happy to meet you. You're like another sister to Elisa." He whispered in her ear, "I think she's closer to you than to her own sisters."

Mireille could easily believe that. Pauline, Elisa's next sister, a girl of thirteen, was very beautiful, but already she had nothing in her head but young men. Unlike Elisa, she had not been given a good education, because by the time she was old enough to go to school, the family had run out of money and could not afford to send her. Once Elisa had told Mireille that Pauline was starting to send love letters to young men, except that Elisa had to write them for her because Pauline could hardly write. Mireille found Pauline rather charming, mostly because she reminded her of her beloved cousin Valentine, but she could also see why Elisa became annoyed with her. The youngest sister, Caroline, was still only a child of eleven, but she also had not been well educated, and her manners always seemed cold and distant. But she had taken a liking to Mireille from the very beginning. And now the two younger girls embraced her, followed by the two younger boys, fifteen-year-old Louis and nine-year-old Jerome.

Then she felt a pair of strong arms around her, and she looked into the handsome face of Lucien Bonaparte. She felt awkward at first, because Lucien had declated his love for her on Corsica, but she could not return his feelings, because she was in love with Talleyrand. But in spite of herself, she felt something stir inside her heart while she returned Lucien's embrace. "Mireille, I've missed you so!" he exclaimed.

"And I have missed you as well."

"You have?" Lucien's face lit up. Mireille knew he was thinking there might be some hope for him, after all.

"Of course I have! You're my friend, after all." Then, as she saw the disappointment in his face, she realized her mistake and added, "You are very dear to me, Lucien. You know that. And I hear you're writing a play about Charlemagne."

He nodded. "I've dedicated it to you."

"I hardly deserve it. But I would love to read it."

"When it's ready, I will be happy to show it to you."

They were interrupted by a tiny woman in her fifties, with reddish chestnut hair. Letizia Bonaparte threw her arms around Mireille and held her close. "Mireille! At last! You don't know how worried I've been about you, ever since you left Corsica. We all read your letters to Elisa, of course, but I couldn't help but worry about you, out in the desert by yourself."

"Hardly by myself," said Mireille as she returned her embrace. "Shahin was with me the whole time, so I was in good hands, as you know. And... I've had a child! His name is Charlot, and he's three months old now. He's with Shahin and his people now, but I'm coming back for him, as soon as I can."

Letizia smiled. "I knew you were with child all along. I didn't want to say anything, because you and Elisa were so determined to have your adventure. But your son is well?"

"Very much. Shahin delivered him, because there was no one else."

Letizia stepped back a little and looked into Mireille's face. "You look sad, Mireille. Not the way a new mother should look. Well, I imagine you're missing Talleyrand. He's gone off to England, I hear."

"Of course I miss him. But it's not just that."

"Something else you're sad about? Valentine, of course."

"Always. But that's not it." Mireille shuddered, and Letizia held her close.

"Well, we will hear about it at the supper table. Supper should be ready by now, and we're all here. Joseph won't be joining us. He's dining with the Clary family. You've met Désirée, of course." Letizia wrinkled her brow, and Mireille remembered what Elisa had said, that none of the other Bonapartes liked Désirée. "Her sister Julie is Joseph's sweetheart." Whispering in Mireille's ear, she added, "I think my sons can do better than that, but that's just between you and me." Raising her voice to normal level again, she went on, "I'm afraid it's only a very simple meal. Just mussels and clams and octopus. If I'd known we'd have such a special guest, I would have had a larger meal made."

"That sounds good to me. To tell the truth, I haven't been very hungry for a long time."

Letizia looked more closely at her, and her face fell. "Why, Mireille, you're as thin as a rail! For a young woman who's so recently given birth... that's very upsetting, that is! What's happened to you? Have you been ill?"

"In a way, yes." Mireille blinked back tears. "I've hardly eaten for a week."

"We must do something about that! As long as you stay with us, you will eat well. I just feel bad that we don't have more for tonight."

They walked together to the table, where Mireille found herself seated between Elisa and Désirée, and across from Lucien. She forced herself to eat at first, but when she realized how delicious the food was, she ate heartily. The family spoke French at the table, instead of their usual Italian, because Désirée didn't understand Italian. Everyone was eager to hear Mireille's adventures, and she told them all that had happened to her in the desert. They were astonished by her tales of such a faraway place. But when she spoke of her return to France after giving birth to her son, she turned as pale as a sheet, and swallowed hard, choking back her tears. "I'm sorry. I can't go on," she said.

"Oh, Mireille!" said Elisa, taking her hand under the table. "If you won't tell them, I will. Mireille is a hero, everyone! She killed Marat."

Mireille felt the room spin around her, and she held onto Elisa's arm for support and looked away, afraid to see the looks on their faces. What if they all turned against her? But she didn't need to worry. They all congratulated her on her great courage. Lucien leaned over the table and gave her a big kiss on the lips. "Mireille, how incredibly brave!" he exclaimed. "I always thought it was you, and so did Maman and Elisa. Napoleon and the others thought it was Charlotte Corday, as the newspapers said."

"Well, for once in my life, I was wrong," said Napoleon.

"And probably the only time," Elisa teased him.

"Perhaps. We will see. But, Mireille, you have been heroic, and I'm very glad the monster is dead. Tell me, though, how was it the newspapers came to say it was Charlotte Corday who killed Marat?"

Mireille was gasping for breath as she looked into the faces of her dear friends, who were proud of her instead of rejecting her as a murderer, as she had feared. In a broken voice, she told them, "Charlotte Corday and I looked very much alike. As if we were twins, even though she was a few years older than me. I was carrying her papers when I went to see Marat. She agreed to let me do it, because she knew all the nuns of Montglane were in danger from him. And Marat would never have agreed to see me if I'd given my own name. So I gave him hers. After-what I did-" her voice broke up again, "they found Charlotte's papers on me. So I was tried, and condemned to death, as Charlotte Corday. Then, about an hour before I was supposed to go to the guillotine, Charlotte came to visit me in prison. Before I go on, have all of you heard of the Montglane Service?" She looked pointedly at the two newcomers, Felix and Désirée.

"Napoleon and Elisa have told us all about it," said Désirée, and Felix nodded in agreement.

"And do you know about the deadly Game being played for the pieces, and the powerful formula they contain?"

They nodded.

"Well, Charlotte told me I'm the Black Queen in the Game."

Letizia interrupted. "I always thought you were, as soon as I met you."

"Yes, Maman, on Corsica you told us there was a new Black Queen to take the Abbess' place, and you had some suspicions about who it was," said Elisa.

"I had a feeling it was Mireille as soon as I saw the figure 8 birthmark on her hand. And I know her birthday is April 4, as the Black Queen's should be," said Letizia. "But go on, Mireille."

"So Charlotte said because I'm the Black Queen, I was the one who had to live. I didn't want her to make such a sacrifice. Oh, I did not want her to die!" she burst out in sobs, and Elisa held her closely. "Too much blood has been spilled already! But she insisted. We traded clothes in my prison cell, and she went to the guillotine in my place. I wish I could have died as I deserved!"

"No, Mireille," said Letizia. "Don't ever say that! You do not deserve to die! You're a hero!"

"No, I'm not."

"Stop saying that," said Elisa. "You are, and I won't hear you saying you're not, ever again. Of course I wish Charlotte could have lived. But it had to be, and there was nothing you could do about it. So stop carrying so much guilt around."

"I can't help it."

"You may feel that way now," said Letizia, "But some day you'll feel differently. It will take a while, of course. Perhaps many years. But you will."

By this time, it was late, and they were all tired. Lucien clasped Mireille's hand across the table.

"You're glad of what I did?" Mireille asked him. "How can that be? You're a Jacobin!"

"Not that kind of Jacobin," said Lucien. "As I've said many times before, I never wanted to see the Revolution in the hands of a monster like Marat. I am very glad he's dead. But, unfortunately, others in the Jacobin Club of Marseille don't agree. In fact, we're just about evenly divided. Half of us wanted to celebrate Marat's death, but the other half wanted to mourn him and make a martyr of him. Sadly, they won out. Now the leaders of the Jacobin Club consider me an outcast."

"I'm so sorry, Lucien. It's all because of me."

"I would not have wanted to spend my time with those people, anyway. At least now I know who my enemies are."

"No more gloomy thoughts!" interrupted Letizia. "I'm an old woman, and it's late. Felix, would you like to play some music for us?"

"Gladly, Citoyenne Bonaparte," said Felix, and he went to get his violin. He played beautifully, and everyone watched him in amazement, even though all except Mireille had heard him play many times. Mireille relaxed as she heard him play, and she was greatly soothed by the music. For a moment she felt as if she'd died and gone to Heaven, so beautiful was his playing. But then she realized that she was forever barred from Heaven because of when she'd done, and the tears flowed down her cheeks once again.

When he was finished, she said, "That was incredble, Felix! You play so beautifully. Thank you!"

Felix smiled. "I love it more than anything else. And I am very glad to play for Elisa's dearest friend. And a great hero."

"Please, I don't want to be called a hero."

"But you are." He took her hand. "Well, I must take my leave and return to my lodgings for the night. I am very happy to have met you at last, Mireille. No doubt we will see each other many times during your stay."

Felix and Désirée took their leave of the Bonapartes, and Felix returned to his lodgings and Désirée to her family. Then the Bonapartes went to bed. Mireille shared Elisa's room, as she had on Corsica.