“The petition did not lead to the massacre. What did is the desire of certain people, whom I believe to be your friends, to make an example of a few hundred Patriots. They wanted to teach the good people of Paris not to question the monarchy. We counted fifty-four dead before finding you, but you know that there must have been many more. The Nation will not forgive this atrocity.”
“I can assure you, Sir, that I would not call anyone my friend who has been complicit in this.”
“I almost believe you. The person you used to be would not have condoned the slaughter of innocents. If my memory serves me well, even the punishment of the guilty elicited your compassion.” Pierre-André gave me a hard look. “But you are very naive with regard to your friends.”
We had almost reached my lodgings.
“You may put me down if you want, Sir,” I said. “I feel much better now.”
“Are you afraid of being seen with us? Fine, run home by yourself then.”
Pierre-André let go of me. I had overestimated my strength. My legs were still too weak to carry me. He had to catch me by the waist to prevent me from falling.
“It seems that you still need us for a few more minutes after all. Do not worry, we will leave you as soon as we can.”
I bit my lip. “This is not what I meant.”
Each of my companions took me by one arm. We arrived at my lodgings. Manon, still dressed, answered the bell. She put her hand to her mouth, silenced for once, and ran to open the door to the drawing room. Pierre-André and Monsieur Ferrat put me down on a sofa there.
“Please bring refreshments, Manon. These gentlemen saved my life.”
“Certainly, Madam. My Lord was here half an hour ago. He didn’t know you had gone to the Champ de Mars. He was beside himself when I told him. He went in search of you.”
I wished Manon had not mentioned Villers in front of my visitors. Pierre-André, who had remained standing, was surveying the drawing room with a cold eye. He looked at the blue and white paneling, the silk drapes, the delicate porcelain-inlaid furniture. Colour rose into my cheeks.
“I had heard from my brothers that your late husband had not been generous in his will,” he said. “They must have been misinformed. You live in the lap of luxury here. I should not be surprised, of course. These are the proper surroundings for a person of your rank.”
“There are no ranks anymore. We are all equals now.”
He shrugged. “How stupid of me to forget it! Equals or not, Madam, it seems that our intervention was useless after all. A few minutes later, you might have been rescued by your noble protector, instead of two strangers. When he returns, you might ask him why he did not tie you to a chair here instead of letting you walk into that butchery.”
“I am sure that he did not know about it.”
“And I am sure that he did.” Pierre-André’s jaw tightened. “This exploit had been planned for a few days by his friend Lafayette. He could not have been unaware of it.”
“Who could plan such a thing?”
“That is a question you will have to ask your protector, or whatever other title you give your generous friend.” Pierre-André turned to Ferrat. “We should go. Monsieur de Villers might be unhappy to find us here and have us arrested.”
“On the contrary,” I said, “he would thank you for rescuing me.”
“It just happens that I do not want his thanks, or anything else from him. Keep your refreshments. I am sure that he has paid for everything here, including your person. Good night to you.”
Monsieur Ferrat gave me a sheepish look and followed his friend out of the room.
I heard Villers’s step and voice in the drawing room about half an hour later. He was speaking to Manon. I was in bed, wide awake, although I had blown out the candle on my nightstand. When he entered my bedroom, I pretended to be asleep. He sat on the bed and ran his hand on my cheek. I opened my eyes. He was bending over me.
“Thank God you are safe,” he said. “I was sick with worry when Manon told me that you had gone to the Champ de Mars. Why did you not listen to me, Belle?”
“What exactly did you know? Had you been warned that peaceful, unarmed people would be slaughtered?”
“Do you mean the peaceful, unarmed people who killed those two men?”
“That happened in the morning. Everything was quiet by the time I arrived. Most people were there for a stroll and did not even care about the petition.” I could feel myself colour as my temper rose. “You have not answered my question, Villers. Did you know of the massacre ahead of time?”
He frowned. “Of course not. Of what are you accusing me?”
“The men who brought me back here said that it had been planned. What did you know about it? Is that why you warned me to stay away from the Champ de Mars?”
“Any fool could have foreseen what was going to happen with the kind of rabble gathered there to sign the petition. Speaking of those two fellows, what were they doing there themselves in the middle of the night? Manon said one of them was addressing you in an insolent manner. She heard him raise his voice to you. Who is he?”
“He did not tell me his name. The other one said that he was a surgeon and that they had gone to the Champ de Mars to treat the survivors.”
“I will have enquiries made about those men. Manon told me that the loud, rude one is six and a half feet tall, and built to match. That should make it easy. There cannot be too many surgeons in Paris answering to this description.”
“What do you want from them? You should be grateful to them for saving my life. Do you not care about that at all?”
“I do, although I have no illusions about their motives. They probably brought you home with the sole idea of receiving a reward. Agreed, they deserve one and that is why I will have them traced. Good night, Belle.”
Villers’s tone was not one of gratitude. His answers had not dissipated my doubts concerning his advance knowledge of the massacre. I was certain that he wished to find Pierre-André and his friend to have them arrested.
It remained to decide how to express my thanks to Pierre-André. What surprised me was the strength of my feelings toward this man I had not seen in years. My first thought was to call on him at his chambers. Then I recalled his anger at my surroundings and the abrupt manner in which he had left. How would he receive me? What if he reproached me for the past? What if he upbraided me for my current position? I had never been proud of being a kept woman, but now I saw my own situation through his eyes. I resolved to write him.
Sir,
Please excuse the awkwardness of this letter. The truth is that I do not know what to do or say to thank you for your help last night. I am mortified by the opinion you have of me. It does not diminish my appreciation for your assistance but makes any expressions of gratitude clumsy.
Many times over the past years I have been tempted to call on you. Yet I have always been deterred by the fear of angering you or exposing myself to your contempt. The feelings of disgust you expressed last night, although they may be justified, proved me right.
I know that I must have caused you great pain once. For this I beg your forgiveness. I would do anything, if you would let me, to atone for past or present offenses and regain some of your good opinion.
If we never see each other again, I wish you the best and hope that in time you may come to think less ill of me.
A thousand thanks to you, Sir, and to your friend Monsieur Ferrat.
I would be honoured to remain, Sir, your humble servant.
Gabrielle
I could not bring myself to sign my married name. That letter, short as it was, required many drafts. All of my effort was in vain. For many days I hoped for a response, but none came. I concluded that Pierre-André either did not care enough for me to take the trouble to write back, or that he was still angry with me.
I was now a lady-in-waiting without any princess to wait upon. The flight of the Countess de Provence left me in an awkward position at Court. I felt compelled to approach Villers regarding financial matters, a subject we had not discussed since I had accepted the place with Madame.
“Do you remember saying that you would reinstate my allowance if I renounced my place as a lady-in-waiting?” I asked.
He was reading the
Moniteur
and did not look up from the newspaper. “I have been blessed with an excellent memory.”
“So would you reinstate my allowance if I resigned?”
“Why would you resign? You would not listen to me when I requested that you decline the place. You knew what I thought of the Countess de Provence. You nevertheless chose to disregard my wishes. Now that she is gone, very likely forever, you may remain her lady-in-waiting as long as you wish. No one will object and I no longer care.”
“But I do. It does not seem right to continue collecting 6,000 francs a year for nothing.”
“Your delicacy of feeling does you honour, but I do not see why I should be the one to pay for it.”
I bit my lip. “I am sorry I broached that subject, Villers. Please forgive me.”
“Now, Belle, there is no reason to be cross because I do not immediately agree to your every whim. I cannot recall anything you did of late that would incline me to generosity.” He looked straight into my eyes. “Yes, my dearest, you enjoy having your own way, regardless of what I think or say. That is fine, but, like any other pleasure, it must be paid for. Let me think about your request for a while.” He resumed his reading.
I looked out the window. Why had my first impulse been to ask Villers for money? Had I become used to being a kept woman? I was reminded of Pierre-André’s disgust at my lodgings and what they implied regarding my situation. Shame came to me belatedly, but with full force.
The next day, I spoke again to Villers. “I have given careful consideration to our conversation of yesterday. You were right. You have no reason to support me after I spurned your advice. You are doing more than enough by paying my rent and my servants’ wages. I do not wish to impose further upon your generosity. Please forget the request I made of you.”
“Does this mean that you have reconsidered your decision to resign your place?”
“I have not. I believe it would be unwise as well as dishonourable for me to remain a lady-in-waiting.”
He smiled coldly. “May I ask how you intend to support yourself ?”
“I have been able to set aside a few thousand francs over the years. It is not much, but I can certainly retrench on my expenses. That way the money will last several months.”
“What will happen when you see the end of it?”
“I can sell some pieces of jewellery. Of course, I would keep the most valuable ones, such as the diamonds and the ring you were kind enough to give me, as well as the ruby earrings I received from my late husband. These, I believe, should go to Aimée as a memento from her father’s family. However, I have many more, less valuable pieces with which I can part.”
“Does that include some of my presents to you?”
“I would of course sell first the jewels I received from my late husband, but if I had to, yes, I might part with some of your gifts. What choice have I?”
“You could have waited for my decision before changing your mind so abruptly. Everything you have done lately seems designed to show me that you no longer care for me.”
“You can hardly fault me for withdrawing a request that appeared to make you angry.” I reached for his hand. “I do care for you and am grateful for your help.”
“You have an odd way of showing it. Beware, my dearest, or you might see the well of my generosity run completely dry.”
“I have always known that I might lose your affections any day. Love does not last forever.”
“True, but even when it fades away, it is sometimes survived by friendship and respect. Often, like a bad wine, it leaves nothing behind but a sour aftertaste. It is up to you, Belle, to determine my future behaviour to you.”
He shook off my hand, his eyes fixed on my face. I was surprised by his bitterness.
I also told the Duchess of my decision to resign.
“Well, dear Belle,” she said, “you are right to keep away from the Court at this time. Things have been unsettled since the King’s little escapade to Varennes and you cannot be too cautious.” She shook her head. “I so regret having proposed you as a replacement for my daughter. It has caused nothing but trouble between Villers and you, and I hate to think of what might happen to you if you remained a lady-in-waiting.”
I now limited my contacts with the Court to attending the monthly parties given at the Tuileries by the Princess de Lamballe, Superintendent of the Queen’s Household. I went there out of a sense of obligation for my past stipend rather than for any pleasure I found in those gatherings. They were spent anticipating the gruesome punishments to be doled out to the “traitors” once the Revolution was defeated. Another topic of conversation was the situation in the colonies, where the Negroes were in full revolt. They had the audacity to demand the abolition of slavery without thinking of the damage it would cause their masters, and the sugar trade.
The Assembly completed the Constitution in September. This entailed the election of a new body, called the Legislative Assembly. No member of the old National Assembly would be allowed to seek another term.
This meant that Villers could no longer hold office. Many members of the nobility, including Lauzun, had long stopped participating in the deliberations of the Assembly, but Villers had remained assiduous in his attendance until the end. He had found great satisfaction in his functions as Representative, probably far more than he had expected. He was now left with as much time on his hands as before the Revolution, without any of the entertainments he had enjoyed then. He had to watch events unfold without being able to help shape the fate of the Nation. The consequence of this forced idleness was that he could now devote his full attention to me.
At the end of September of 1791, Emilie introduced me to Guillaume de Morsan, a young cousin of her husband.
“Do not talk to him if you do not want to, Belle,” she whispered later. “Maybe it is not fair, but I cannot abide the sight of the man. One look at him is enough to spoil my appetite.”
The marks left by smallpox on Morsan’s face resembled burn scars and had spared only one of his cheeks. He was slightly built for a man and barely as tall as me. My first impulse had been to look away, but Emilie’s remark had made me ashamed of myself. I made a point of sitting next to him at dinner.
“I am surprised,” I said, “never to have met you before.”
“I was a Lieutenant in the Bodyguards, My Lady. I have seen you on many occasions at the Palace when the Countess de Provence visited Their Majesties, but you may not have noticed me.”
“One of my dearest friends, the Chevalier des Huttes, was also a Bodyguard.”
“I knew and respected him, although I had been with the Corps only a year when he was killed. There is no finer death for a soldier, My Lady.”
“I cannot bring myself to call any death fine, especially when I think of the Chevalier’s end. I guess it is a female weakness. Are you going to be part of the King’s new Constitutional Guard?”
“Unfortunately not. None of us Bodyguards are, I believe. We are suspected of harbouring hostile feelings towards the Revolution.”
“So you find yourself out of a commission. It must be a great change for you.”
“It is, My Lady, and not a happy one. If Madame de Brasson were not kind enough to invite me to her dinners, I would feel very lonely. Some of my friends from the Bodyguards have emigrated and invited me to follow them abroad. Yet I am reluctant to leave my country, although I see it daily take a turn for the worse.”
“You are right. Not only have the
émigrés
left France, but they are ready to take arms against her. That I cannot comprehend or forgive.”
“I understand your feelings, Madam. Yet someday, each of us gathered here tonight may have to choose between death and exile.”
“What a terribly sad thought! I do hope that you are mistaken, Sir. The King has returned; he swore allegiance to the Constitution; the new Legislative Assembly has been elected. Hopefully things will follow a peaceful course now.”
“Forgive me, My Lady, I did not mean to dampen your spirits. These days I let my personal woes colour my view of the political situation.”
Our conversation turned to more cheerful topics. I found Morsan’s company pleasant, to the point of forgetting his disfigurement. I noticed his fine grey eyes, always sad, but more particularly so whenever he looked at me. Villers claimed me promptly after dinner. I took my leave of Morsan, who bowed and kissed my hand.
“Thank you for the pleasure of your company, Madam,” he said. “It is not very often that I have the honour of receiving such kindness from a lady.”
“Who is that man?” asked Villers in the carriage.
“A cousin of Emilie’s husband. He is a former Bodyguard.”
He sneered. “I never saw anyone so repulsive.”
“I found him quite pleasant.”
“You must indeed have liked his company, for you have talked to him through the whole dinner.”
“Yes, I like him.”
“Has he asked for permission to call on you?”
“He has not, and you know that I would not have granted it. I am sure that he was interested in me only because I listened to him. Some people must shun him because of his looks.”
“Your naivete would amuse me, Belle, if I were not beginning to wonder whether it is genuine. The man was watching you with hungry eyes. No wonder. When he looks at himself in the mirror every morning, he must thank God for the existence of whores. Without that convenience, he would never touch a woman.”
“What a cruel thing to say, Villers!”
“Well, my love, truth is often cruel. But you are right. I should not have spoken it. The poor fellow’s deformity does not prevent him from having the same needs as any other man.”
It pained me to think of Morsan in the company of a prostitute. Villers seemed to have been either testing my reaction or trying to degrade my new acquaintance in my eyes. I saw Morsan again at Emilie’s, and I always conversed with him, although I avoided sitting by him at dinner anymore.
When the weather was fine, I took Aimée for walks in the gardens of the Luxembourg Palace. The place brought to mind pleasant memories of my time as a lady-in-waiting to Madame. Aimée would bring her miniature boat, which she would push with a stick on the main basin. I had to watch her closely, for she was so entranced by this amusement that she had more than once come close to falling into the water. Once she had played to her heart’s content, we would walk in the shade of the beautiful alley leading to the Fountain de Médicis, my favourite spot in the park. There we would sit on a bench and share almond biscuits we brought in Aimée’s tiny basket.
During one of these impromptu meals, I saw Morsan walking in our direction. He bowed to us. “What a pleasant surprise, Sir,” I said. “I did not know that you came here.”
“My hours of leisure are many, My Lady, and Madame de Brasson says this is one of your favourite walks. I took the liberty of coming here in the hope of meeting you.”
I felt myself blushing and saw that he too was colouring under his scars. To see a man do so added to my embarrassment.
“If my presence annoys you,” he said after a pause, “I will leave immediately. It would be dreadful of me to repay your kindness by forcing my company upon you.”
With a wave of the hand, I invited him to sit. “This is a public place. It would be rather presumptuous of me to forbid you to come here. And I do not mind meeting you. I would tell you if I did.”
“I am very grateful for your forbearance. The pleasure of your company is my sole comfort now.” He smiled sadly at Aimée. “I am delighted to meet your little girl. I hope she does not find my appearance disturbing. Most children are afraid of me.”
Aimée was indeed staring at Morsan and holding fast to my hand. I pressed hers. She understood and curtseyed to him.
We saw Morsan again at the Luxembourg. Little by little, Aimée became less shy with him. He never failed to bring her pralines, her favourite sweets. His attentions won her good graces and she learned to smile at him. Our meetings were never arranged in advance, but we saw him whenever we went there. I assumed he was waiting for us every day. He was content to speak with me and then walk us back to the carriage.
I discussed my new acquaintance with the Duchess.
“Is this young man in love with you?” she asked.
“It is possible.”
“I suppose it means yes. What about you, dear, do you love him?”
“No, Madam, I do not.”
She put down her teacup and looked straight into my eyes. “Forgive me for asking an impertinent question, which only our friendship justifies. Why are you allowing his attentions?”
I blushed. “I cannot tell, Madam.”
“You may be tormenting that poor man by letting him hope for what cannot be.”
“Oh no, Madam, I do not believe that he entertains any illusions.”
“How can you be certain of it? Have you discussed either his feelings or yours with him?”
“Never.”
“Do you tolerate his presence because it flatters your vanity to have an admirer?”
“I do not believe so. You know me, Madam. I do not relish that kind of satisfaction. And I do not only tolerate him, I like meeting him. Here is a man who, while clearly admiring me, does not raise his voice to me, does not say unpleasant things, does not try to control my actions and thoughts. In his presence, I need not worry how my every word and move will be interpreted.”
“What about Villers? How does he feel?”
“He seems very upset. I have noticed lately a stranger following me all over Paris. I suspect that he has been hired by Villers to watch me. A great deal of good it is going to do him, because I only meet Morsan in public places, and we do nothing but talk quietly.”
“Still, Belle, regardless of what happens or does not happen between that man and you, Villers is bound to be jealous since you seem to enjoy Morsan’s company so very much.”
“But Morsan is disfigured.”
“It makes it worse for Villers, dear, if you would prefer to him a man of such unprepossessing appearance. I am worried about you, Belle. Be careful. If you intend to leave Villers, so be it, but do not unwittingly make him angry over a man you do not even love.”
I looked at the Duchess. “Do you believe, Madam, that Villers is thinking of leaving me?”
“I really cannot say, dearest. He no longer confides in me. I am only warning you to beware. In a way, he has lost his son, and there is no telling how he would react to losing you, or to imagining that he has lost you. What if he turns you out of your lodgings? Of course, you will always have a home here, but it may be a more temporary solution than you think.”
“You are most kind, as usual, but I would not want you to worry about those things.”
“How can I help it, dearest Belle, when I think of you and your daughter? Do you think that Morsan would marry you? Has he any fortune?”
“Emilie says he has next to nothing. He rents two rooms on Rue du Bac.”
The Duchess sighed. “At least he has enough sense and decency not to propose. You have grown accustomed to luxury, Belle, whether you know it or not. Again, you are the sole judge of what you wish to do concerning Villers, but whatever you decide, keep your eyes open.”
She patted my hand before reaching for her teacup.