Chapter 38
Odette de la Nièvre was different from the other nobles. Elise could appreciate it that way, because in her presence she did not feel unworthy, voiceless and insignificant as a simple maid should. From the moment they first met, Elise was not only a servile ghost who had to carry out her duties from the earliest morning until the latest night without complaint. She was used to it and never questioned it. But Odette not only perceived her, she even spoke to her! She addressed her directly and gave her friendly attention without any arrogance!
The rumour mill had spread who Mademoiselle de la Nièvre was and why she was staying at the palace; that she had been brought here secretly and accompanied by a heavily armed escort. The old valet Gustave Moraut had chosen Elise instead of a whole entourage of servants and maids for the sake of discretion, because she heard and saw everything, but never gossiped about it. It was an honour, a distinction - and Elise wondered how much trouble the near future might hold.
Odette, for her part, took a liking in the maid who uncomplainingly and pragmatically took care of all her smallest concerns. Elise did not even grimace when she folded the dirty travelling cloak, reeking of horse and sweat, over one arm to take it to the washhouse. A real chambermaid would only have done it with a sniff and complained that such work was beneath her.
Odette liked Elise, and since she had no one else to talk to because her granduncle wanted her well protected in her chambers for the time being, Odette talked and chattered most amiably with the maidservant and treated her almost like a dame of rank and name. Not equal, but worthy enough of her attention.
Elise felt present, even valued for the first time by a noble. Nevertheless, she caught herself glancing furtively in the dressing mirror to reassure herself of her own presence. But there was no one else who had stepped into the room unnoticed, whom Odette actually addressed and spoke to through Elise as if she were mere air; in Odette's presence she was allowed to be.
The two young women were fond of each other, although they were quite different in nature. Odette spoke her views frankly and Elise kept her opinions to herself, because the duke's daughter had plenty for both of them. For example, about the brave and handsome guardsman who has saved Odette from the raptio - the abduction by the mercaneries - with heroic bravery and due fighting skills. A shining hero, a knight from the old days! He had to be of noble birth behind that simple name; he certainly held a secret. How exciting!
Elise nodded well-behaved and thought to herself that Grégoire had actually been part of a whole squad and had certainly not fought and chased away that vermin all by himself. But Odette only talked about him, she romanticized him unmistakably and her pale cheeks turned a soft shade of rose while she let her angel-blonde hair be brushed by Elise.
Elise pinned Odette's curls up into an elaborate hairdo and remarked, »I know Sorel, he's staying with me.«
»Oh?« Odette's pretty brow furrowed, the dreamy smile she had been wearing a moment ago fading from her lips. She stiffened noticeably in the armchair and Elise hurried to put her acquaintance with Grégoire in the proper light. »He's my lodger, he always pays on time. Otherwise I'm not interested in him at all.«
»Not at all?« A glimmer of hope sparkled in Odette's eyes, she really could not hide her feelings. Perhaps she was still too inexperienced with royal court intrigues, with nasty gossip that could quickly cost rank and honour. Or perhaps she simply did not fear malicious rumours because she was of too high a status.
Elise nodded emphatically. »And he isn't interested in me, because he's already thinking of another woman.«
Odette sought Elise's reflection for a well-meaning lie and found nothing but honesty and the gleaming gold background of her chamber. »Is it truly like that?«
»Absolutely! It struck me after his return yesterday. His mind was elsewhere and he hardly touched his dinner, but grinned stupidly. In that manner.«
Grégoire never did that, to grin stupidly as he picked his fork at the vegetables that Elise had left simmering on the cooker a little too long. Usually, after a stern look, he would shovel the food into himself as if there was nothing more tomorrow. So he had to be sick or awfully in love if he lost his healthy appetite, and since he seemed exhausted at best but completely unharmed after the mission, the proof was there for the latter.
Elise had not asked and had her own thoughts on the matter. It was none of her business who Sorel had fallen for in the past week and she need not guess for long anyway. It only could be Odette. She cleared her throat. »Forgive me, Mademoiselle, it was not my place.«
»Tsk, tsk!« Odette cut her short with a cheerful rebuke. »You are permitted to speak frankly.«
Elise smiled mildly at this and tucked in the last of the hairpins. Odette scrutinised her appearance thoroughly and found everything arranged to her satisfaction. She rose gracefully and full of determination. »We want to familiarise ourselves with the palace today. You will guide me!«
»But your uncle wishes-« Elise started to contradict.
Odette interrupted her with an innocent, questioning expression. »Are we locked in? Is the door firmly shut on us?«
Elise shook her head. Mademoiselle de la Nièvre knew Richelieu's wishes about her remaining in these chambers. But as long as the cardinal did not obviously treat her like a prisoner, his niece would override it with pretended ignorance and have her way. She was already heading for the antechamber that separated her private room from the main hallway.
Elise had no choice but to follow her and open the door. It was this trouble that she has anticipated; in the end, others had to answer for wayward behaviour, no matter how kindly and well Odette treated her servants.
Elise looked up when she was touched gently on the arm. A slight goose bump prickled on her skin as Odette returned her gaze with the most profound thoughts. There was none of the naivety in her eyes that she usefully adorned herself with, but a recognisably clever and strong personality. Odette gave Elise a silent promise not to let any harm come to her maid, no matter how her uncle might rage - and Elise believed her without hesitation.
She let the duke's daughter step out into the hallway. To her astonishment, no guards were posted at the door. Had the men been withdrawn at dawn because no danger lurked within the safety of these walls?
Odette seemed disappointed, as she has hoped for the protection of her Knight Sorel. Elise, on the other hand, was relieved and mentally planned a route that would lead Odette along the most beautiful places in the palais. From the hall of mirrors to the portico to the magnificent gardens, that was enough of a tour for one morning. It would take many weeks to really familiarise herself with the palace. Odette would have more than enough time to walk with Elise through a different wing each day, exploring new favourite spots and making acquaintances with court society along the way. Already, they were meeting fine dames and noblemen with conspicuous frequency, who were curious to take a closer look at His Eminence's grandniece.
Odette was excellent at casual conversation with a Madame Montcalm Marquise de Saint-Véran, who could snap her colourful fan open and shut like a knife, or the ageing Vicomte de Limoges, who had to use an ear trumpet and still hardly understood a word, but shouted all the louder at everyone else, which did not make him a pleasant collocutor.
Elise stood by, completely invisible, her hands folded in front of her skirt and her eyelids lowered. She looked around furtively under her lashes. A red uniform seemed to follow them at some distance, always just out of sight when Elise turned her head to look more closely. A discreet escort that gave them some latitude and did not immediately send Odette back to her chambers, where she should have stayed.
Odette was not aware of the persecution or did not care. Perhaps, romantically glorified, she suspected her brave hero in the guardsman who was only allowed to love her secretly from afar.
The disillusionment was all the greater when, while strolling along the upper gallery, they suddenly encountered the real Sorel, who was high spirited and in the best of moods.
He was strangely absent-minded, almost walking past them with a fleeting, polite greeting, if Elise had not cleared her throat audibly. She was allowed to do so, for no strict education forbade her to express her indignation. Unlike Odette, who gave her new friend a grateful look before she had to pretend she did notice the guardsman before he paused at the sound, recognised Elise and the mademoiselle and finally remembered his duties as a cavalier.
A noticeable hesitation accompanied his bow to the duke's daughter. Sorel showed a half-hearted politeness, not because he was indifferent to the women, but because he seemed to have already hurried ahead with his thoughts to another place and was loath to be delayed.
Odette noted his obeisance graciously and yet a sparkle in her eyes betrayed all her delight at seeing him again. A gleam of joy surrounded her that would have brightened any day, however dull, and that completely captivated Elise.
Sorel was not unaffected either. »You look rested and refreshed after the tiring journey, Mademoiselle. I'm glad to see you well.«
»Thank you, my noble Knight.« Odette giggled girlishly at the jocular salutation, which was reserved for Sorel alone. »Without you, I would have been truly in poor shape, I would not be unharmed in heart and soul.«
Sorel did not give the impression of hearing anything other than gratitude for the escort. He modestly shrugged it off and caught a critical look from Elise in return. There was a silent 'Fool!' in it, without him understanding the reason. »Does Mademoiselle Perrault show you the Palais Cardinal?«
»She has introduced me to the most important places, and yet I have not seen half of all the interesting parts. My new home is almost breathtaking!«
»You shall soon get used to it and not be lost again.«
»We are lost?« Odette looked delightfully perplexed and Elise acted innocent. Sorel did not fall for it for a second; the two women had by no means stumbled into the Guards' wing by accident. It slowly dawned on him what clandestine intentions were being pursued here.
Odette now asked blatantly, »Would you be so kind as to lead us back on the right path? Oh, it is unpleasant for me to have to ask you again for rescue!«
»Mademoiselle Perrault will remember the way back, I must be in the guardroom by lunchtime. I was gone for a week, a comrade is waiting to hear about the adventure.«
For Odette, rejection was something completely unfamiliar, that she froze helplessly and knew nothing to say in return. Elise, on the other hand, folded her arms. »He's been waiting a darned long time already, and I'm sure he'll hold out even longer.«
»Strict orders!«
»What other guardsman should be able to order you about?«
»Well... my first lieutenant?«
»D'Artagnan wants to see you urgently?«
»To our common meal, as arranged every day!«
Elise blinked, for there it was again. The grin in that manner. So that was the truth? »Oh. Really? Well, um, I guess then there's nothing to be done about it...«
Odette had a different opinion, she wrinkled her pretty nose. »This is what I have to think of your sacred promise? Outrageous! This d'Artagnan cannot be so significant as to neglect my protection!«
Sorel ducked his head. 'Never, ever dare to anger a woman!' Good advice d'Artagnan had given him at the main gate a few weeks ago. He was in trouble because no matter how he acted, at least one woman would end up being angry with him and he was free to choose which one that would be.
He was just deciding, but a movement in the corner of his eye distracted him and he looked to the pillars along the gallery. Elise followed his gaze and finally caught hold of the guardsman who had been quietly escorting them all along. The lieutenant in question personally. D'Artagnan, who must have heard every word of the conversation and now that she was discovered, abandoned her silent post and marched over. She wore an impassive countenance and bowed gruffly to Odette.
»Chevalier d'Artagnan, indeed insignificant in the presence of Mademoiselle. Allow me a word, nevertheless.«
If Odette was caught off guard by this appearance, she covered it up with a haughty wave, her aversion to the audacious lieutenant evident. »Granted.«
»You should be in your chambers, and not be led about by a servant girl.«
»Mademoiselle Perrault is my devoted chambermaid. Moderate your words against her, Chevalier!«
D'Artagnan's eyes only glanced fleetingly at Elise, who seemed to have faded between the fronts and regained colour when the duke's daughter now defended her. She wisely kept her mouth shut, for d'Artagnan's harsh rebuke was not directed at her.
»A dame should not associate with common guardsmen. It is gratifying and an honour that you should nevertheless show us this mercy. Let me reciprocate it by escorting you personally to your chambers.«
»The escort of an officer is not necessary where a common guardsman will suffice.«
»A common guardsman is not necessary where a maid will suffice. Mademoiselle Perrault, you know your duty.«
»Yes, Monsieur.« Elise curtsied obediently for the sake of the charade.
Odette's looks, on the other hand, were deadly daggers, her words sharp icicles. »You will be reminded of your duty, Chevalier.« She threw back her head haughtily, turned away and walked off, not needing Elise's guidance. The maid followed her after one last meaningful glance at the two guardsmen.
Sorel watched the withdrawal, perplexed by a war between women. Through no fault of his own, he had gotten himself into triple trouble and, regardless of the danger of catching an additional scolding, he dared a sideways glance at d'Artagnan. »Was that really necessary?«
»I'm not here to caress the soul of a spoilt princess!«
»No one missed that,« Sorel muttered half aloud, not knowing whether he was talking to his lieutenant or to Charlotte. Whether there was any difference at all or he no longer noticed any since he was no longer able to see solely the officer, but always the woman behind the façade as well. Who, for some inexplicable reason, was furious, probably more with herself than with Mademoiselle de la Nièvre.
She said between gritted teeth, »I stand responsible for ensuring that nothing happens to her.«
»Happens? She merely wanted to talk to a familiar face in completely unknown surroundings.«
»No one forbids her to do that.«
»It sounded different.«
»Mordieux! Because her interest in you is not in talking alone!«
»Ah, that's how it looks to you?« Sorel laughed, realising what had got into d'Artagnan.
For her part, she could find nothing amusing about it and growled, »It is so. You play with fire and get burned.«
»You don't know that.« Sorel sighed mentally. He has imagined the reunion with d'Artagnan quite differently. He had thought of her far too often in the past week and his sweet sickness had not been cured while far away from Paris. But it seemed that he could not hope for alleviation after his return; only his lieutenant stood before him and strove doggedly not to let any of Charlotte's feelings come to light.
He could have made it easy for them both and given up. However, if Charlotte has really decided against him, against what had almost happened between them, then she should say it to his face now and not cowardly hide behind ranks! »What if this 'interest' has long since turned into friendship, friendship into... more?«
He immediately regretted his question, for as carefully as it was asked to a timid heart, d'Artagnan still flinched. She regained her composure immediately, but her voice was filled with sorrow, her eyes with guilt. »If not to me, then listen to Biscarat; take care of yourself. Some women can do nothing else but inflict wounds on men...«
As if she had already said too much, d'Artagnan turned abruptly away and fled down the gallery before Sorel could stop her. He watched her go and sensed that he has been wrong. That she was not a coward before her own feelings, but was afraid for him, that he might be hurt if he got involved with the wrong woman; and he wondered if he had been misunderstood, if she had really only warned him of Odette de la Nièvre - and if he should thrash Biscarat.
