Virtue and Vanity: Continuing Story of Desire and Duty (6 page)

Chapter Eight

“I cannot wait for the visit of the Marquis,” Laura said as Sarah, Maria and Madame Duval were again seated in the latter’s parlor, preparing their tea.

Madame Duval said, “I still have not heard any response to my inquiries about him. However, it seems Laura that you are interested in his attentions, whatever his character may be.”

“Of course, why should I not? It is only a dream to marry a Marquis; however, a girl can always make a wish.”

“Well, if you wish to fix his attention, I suggest you engage in coquetry. You must not seem interested in his advances. After your initial interest yesterday, this will serve to inflame his passion.”

“Coquetry is an art form known best to the ladies of France. I certainly would like to try my hand at it.”

Laura stood and went to stand in front of the mantel. “You have some lovely
handfans
mounted here. Tell us about them.”

Madame Duval rose and pointed to the first one, which was
black.”I
do not know how much of the
eventail
or fan culture ladies of England use, but French ladies have fans for every status. The one you are pointing to is one for mourning. If you look closely, there is a funeral scene in the picture.”

“Oh,” Laura said and pointed quickly to the next one, “What is this one?”

“This means the fan carrier is expecting a child, as you can tell by the babies pictured on it.”

By this time, Maria and Sarah were standing behind Madame Duval and Laura. Maria said excitedly, “Madame. Tell us about the language of the fan. Do the movements mean the same as in England?”

“I have not been to England, so I do not know if there are differences” She picked up four hand fans and gave one to each young woman as they backed up to form a circle.

“If you let the fan rest on the right cheek it means ‘yes’.”

Maria said, “So, resting on the left cheek means ‘no’.”

“Yes, of course,” their hostess replied.

Laura asked, “Please show me the position that says, “I want to know you better.”

The young women laughed as Madame Duval used her left hand to hold the fan
coquetishly
in front of her face. She then continued, “Whatever you do girls, don’t place the half-open fan to your lips.”

“Why?” asked Maria innocently as Laura and Sarah tried to smother their
mirth.

“Maria, my dear, that position means ‘kiss me’.”

Maria’s face colored.

At that moment, a servant entered. “The Marquis de
Mascarille
has arrived.”

“Wait a moment,” their hostess said, “we need to put these fans
away.
. . there, now you may show him in.”

Laura whispered to the others, “I am glad we do not need fans today. . . I am not ready. My fan might say the wrong thing.”

As the Marquis bowed and entered the room he said, “Ah, the most enchanting women in France.”

“Please, sit down, my Lord,” Madame Duval said, gesturing toward a chair.

Looking at Laura, the visitor complied and continued, “How would Lady Bingley like to visit the Louvre?”

Laura’s face blushed slightly at the first time use of “lady” appended to her name. She looked at Madame Duval and then spoke, “I do not think I would be interested.”

“You surprise me. Why only yesterday, you said you loved portraits.” Leaning forward in his chair, he continued,” I should like to show you some of my own work, which is on exhibition.”

“I know so little about you, my lord.”

Leaning back into his chair, he smiled slightly, “Ah. I see your reluctance. Of course, you wish to be introduced into society before making the circle of sights.”

Laura did not reply but tilted her head in a coquettish manner.

The Marquis continued, “Would you allow me to escort you to the ball tomorrow evening?”

The ladies were silent and the aristocrat continued, “Of course, I mean
your
happy quadrille.”

Madame Duval replied, “We shall be honored to be escorted by our lord.”

“Excellent. My carriage will call at eight o’clock.”

The visitor stood in a stance reminiscent of a peacock and asked, “What do you think of my accessories? Do they match well?”

He looked at Sarah, who replied, “Very well, my lord.”

“What do you think of my stockings?”

Laura eagerly replied, “They are the best of taste. I, myself, wear only the finest of stockings.”

Maria blurted out sarcastically, “I must confess that I have never seen a more perfect and elegant ensemble.”

The Marquis cried out sharply, “Gently! By
jove
, ladies, you use me very ill! I must complain of your treatment, indeed, I must. This is not fair.”

Laura replied, “What is the matter, my lord?”

“You both besiege my heart at once. Attack me on both flanks. The sides are not equal. I vow I will cry murder.”

Sarah whispered to Madame Duval, “He certainly has an original way of putting things.”

“An admirable wit,” Laura said.

“My heart hangs by a single thread. . . .” here the Marquis paused and the servant announced.

“Two English gentlemen, Mr. Andrew Darcy and Mr. John Darcy.”

The brothers walked into the room with John holding a riding stick under his arm. Those already in the room stood as Laura raised a superior tone. “What are you two doing here? Can you not see we are entertaining a Lord?”

Madame Duval quickly reassured, “Of course, you are welcome. I believe you know the ladies. This is the Marquis de
Mascarille
.”

As the Marquis bowed, John slapped him on the back several times with his riding stick and said, “There you are, you rascal. We have been looking for you for the past three hours.”

The aristocrat replied, “Oh, oh, oh! You never told me there was to be a thrashing in the bargain.”

Maria stepped forward and tried to restrain her brother, “John, do you realize what you are about?”

Laura stood aghast as she watched the happenings.

Andrew said, “You are a fine one to play the man of rank.”

His brother then ordered, “Take off that funny coat and return to your duties.”

Laura raised her voice indignantly, “What is the meaning of this?”

As the questioned Marquis began to take off his coat he said, “It was a wager, my lady.”

“What?
To let yourself be insulted like that?”

John and Andrew began laughing. The Marquis looked at the two brothers, “You have won the wages, Jacob,” John said between laughs. “Why do you not explain it?”

With his coat in his arms, the Marquis, or shall we say Jacob, turned and said, “My masters bet me that I could not fool you as the Marquis de
Mascarille
from Moliere’s play, the Precious Provincials, did.”

“I should have smelled a rat,” Madame Duval said. “I thought the title familiar, although it is difficult to remember a play from the 17th century.”

“You have done quite well,” John said as he approached, “but, now you must return to your duties.”

“Thank you, sir,” was Jacob’s reply.

As the pseudo-aristocrat left, Laura angrily said, “I hate you, John Darcy. You are low and despicable. I know you are primarily the one behind this, since you are always playing tricks.”

At this, the brothers renewed their mirth, while Madame Duval merely smiled and sat back to enjoy the entertainment. Maria, who had always enjoyed John’s pranks, could not suppress her giggles.

Sarah felt guilty about her secret pleasure at seeing Laura so infuriated. She restrained her smile and said, “I was fooled also. This will just teach us to be more careful next time.”

“Oh, be quiet! The only thing worse than being tricked is to have a moralizing sister,” the vexed Laura replied as she collapsed onto a sofa.

Sarah asked Maria, “Would you be so kind as to ask your brothers to leave since they are so obviously enjoying Laura’s distress.”

Maria firmly pushed the mirthful John towards the door as Andrew controlled his laughter long enough to say, “The prolongation of our visit is clearly not desired. We beg leave of you.”

Madame Duval replied, “I must say you have given us a most colorful diversion. I shall keep a careful eye on you and your brother in the future.” She then moved to pat Laura’s hand and said, “All is not lost, my dear. You have a natural gift for coquetry. Surely, you will interest many other suitors in Paris. Perhaps we can regain the interest of the captain.”

Chapter Nine

Following the private morning church service a few days later, the ladies gathered in a small reception room on the lower floor of the embassy. “I simply cannot stand being upstairs on such a warm day,” Laura grumbled as she continued to fan herself. “I had no idea Paris could be so unbearably hot!”

“If it is of any consolation to you, Laura, I believe this warm weather to be quite unusual,” Sarah said.

“Does it being unusual make it more comfortable?” Laura snapped.

“No, of course not sister.”

Trying to add some cheer, Maria said, “I am glad we can use the downstairs rooms this
afternoon.
. . the heat is surely unendurable on the upper floors.”

“Most of the well-to-do Parisians have deserted the city for the cooler comfort of their country homes.”

Lady Staley suggested, “Perhaps this would be a fine afternoon to stroll through the
Tuilleries
–with the trees, fountains, and its pleasant situation near the river, the gardens might offer a respite from the heat.” Looking at
Laura’s doubting
face, she added, “And, it is the place for young ladies and gentlemen to be seen on a Sunday afternoon. Since everyone dresses in their finest, it is an excellent time to see the latest in Paris fashions.”

Laura’s attendance was not to be doubted after Lady Staley’s statement.

Soon, it was arranged that Andrew and John would escort the young ladies to the gardens. Sarah quickly offered to take Edgar and Anna also, allowing Georgiana to rest during their absence and offering the children a time to enjoy the amusements of the park.

They gathered in the entry hall, even Edgar and Anna were dressed as though to receive guests. John looked down at Edgar and said, “Are you going to the park without a boat to play with? What kind of young man are you?”

At the mention of the toys, Edgar’s eyes lit up, but he quickly asked, “Do you not think I’m a bit old for such play things,
cousin
John?”

John leaned down and said, “I hope not, because I think sailing a boat would be great fun on such a day as this. Perhaps you’d allow me the pleasure of setting it sail a time or two–I have always been fascinated with boats.”

“Yes, sir.
I will go get
the  best
one straightaway!” With that, he bounded up the stairs.

Sarah laughed softly, “I wish I had some of his energy. He seems to not even notice the temperature.”

Soon they were strolling down the Rue du St.
Honoré
. The young ladies parasols, of course, matched their outfits. Laura and Maria kept their perfumed handkerchiefs close to their faces in an attempt to ward off the horrible smells intensified by the warmth.

“How can they call this place civilized, when they still have so much garbage and sewage
around.
This is simply disgusting!” Laura said.

“Thankfully, we are ahead of the French in those areas,” John said.

“Yes, London has become quite advanced and is a much more pleasant city to visit now than it was several years ago,” Sarah said. “Most houses in London have indoor water supplies, whereas here even the
Palais
Royale still has their water hand-carried; but, Paris is ahead of us by having advanced gaslight system that they say will soon be offered for use in individual homes. When we reach the park area, you will notice the finely crafted gas
lamps.
. . at night, they are quite beautiful.”

“Spoken as a true member of the ambassador’s household,” Andrew teased.

Sarah was careful to keep Anna shaded with her parasol as the young girl walked between her and Andrew. As they turned onto Rue Royale, heading to Place Louis XVI, Edgar was enthusiastically telling John about the last time he had sailed his boat at the park. John was carrying a hoop, another popular diversion at the park.

As they entered the Place Louis XVI near the entrance to the gardens, Sarah’s pace slowed dramatically. Andrew asked, “Is the heat too much for you, Sarah? Shall I find a spot where you can sit for a moment to collect yourself?”

Sarah smiled wanly, “Thank you for your concern, but I’m quite all
right.
. . it’s just the memories of all that has happened in this place, especially during the reign of terror in 1792.” Looking at Andrew’s quizzical expression, she reminded him, “This was formerly called the Place de Concorde.  I can hardly walk past this area without shuddering at the thought of the hundreds of people who were sent to the guillotine.”

“What’s a guillotine, some cold place that makes people shiver?” Anna asked.

Forcing a reassuring smile, Sarah said, “Someday, we will learn about the French revolution in our studies; it is certainly not something we need to worry about on such a sunny day as this.”

Andrew hurried their pace toward the
Tuilleries
and asked, “Does not the word
tuille
refer to a type of tile?”

“Yes. It seems a strange name for such a lovely place, but the name was chosen because
tuille
kilns existed here for many years prior to it becoming a garden in the 16th century.” Sarah answered, thankful that Andrew had quickly changed the subject from that of the gruesome guillotine.

Edgar rushed up to Sarah, “May I show John the best spot for sailing my boat?”

“When we near there. For now, please stay near us.”

“May I roll a hoop? I will stay out of the way of the grownups,” he continued.

“Yes, but make sure you don’t wander off.”

“It sure would be nice to take my shoes off and walk on the grass,” Edgar said as he started to wander away.

Sarah stopped him abruptly, “Do not even mention such a thing aloud. You know how the French feel about their grass
areas.
. . they are to be seen and not walked upon.”

“Yes, Miss Sarah,” Edgar said contritely, for his parents had made this point to him clearly when they first came to Paris. “I still don’t understand it, but I will not mention it again in public.”

“You may go roll your hoop then,” Sarah said.

The path was broad, of fine gravel, with trees along each side. In fact the trees almost became small forests in some areas of the park. The group slowly strolled in the shade. While Laura and Maria seemed enchanted to watch the elegantly dressed procession coming from the opposite end of the park, John seemed to simply wander along after them; Andrew would stop quite frequently and comment on the elms, chestnuts or sycamores lining the walkways, while Sarah listened intently. Anna was quite happy to be walking along with the two.

Andrew gently pulled Anna and Sarah over to the side of the path for a moment. “Look down this row of trees,” he indicated the row in question with his arm. “It is simply amazing that the French plant the trees in such straight rows. British tradition has been to plant groupings of trees, or simply start with the trees that are there and cut away the ones we don’t want. This is most
unusual.
. . actually, it’s quite attractive. I shall have to try an area like this at home.”

Sarah smiled at him, “This reminds me of when we were children and you would teach me about the plants on the estates.”

He smiled in return, “Those were delightful times, indeed.” Then with a slight frown, he added, “Am I boorish, talking too much about the flora of the park?”

“Not at all,” Sarah replied, “I enjoy it very much.”

Andrew then knelt down by Anna and pointed out to her, “See the black magpies on the ground ahead;
the
french
call them pies
bavardes
or chattering magpies. If you listen, you can understand why they named them so.” Then he stood as he saw his brother approaching.

John explained, “Laura and Maria have decided to rest awhile on that shady bench. I think Laura is still quite angry with me and only let me escort her to the park so she would not be seen walking unescorted through the streets. . .”

Sarah added, “That, plus she is probably finding it hard in this unusual heat to muster enough energy to act properly indignant. It was a rather unkind trick,” she finished with a slight smile.

“Perhaps Edgar would like to join me for a time of boat sailing?”

Smiling, Sarah said, “I am sure nothing would please him more.” She turned to where she had last seen Edgar and gasped, “Wherever did he go? He was told to stay near us.”

Laying a comforting hand gently on her arm, Andrew said, “His enthusiasm probably got the better of him and he wandered a bit. Perhaps he is already at the pond, happily sailing his vessel.”

“Indeed, that is most likely exactly what happened,” John said. “Why don’t you show us this pond he likes to sail on and along the way, we’ll keep a sharp lookout for him.” John extended a hand to Anna, “Miss Anna, since the other ladies have deserted me, will you do me the honor of showing me the way to the pond?”

Anna smiled and took the
proferred
hand.

Andrew cupped Sarah’s elbow in his hand as they walked. “I am sure he is fine. John used to wander away all the
time.
. . occasionally boyish excitement overrides common sense.”

“I am sure you are right. I should have kept better watch.”

“Not at all.
Edgar is twelve, almost a man. He knew to stay with us.”

“Yes. . . I suppose it is just this heat giving me such an oppressive
feeling.
. . almost a premonition of danger.”

“Certainly it is just the weather. It seems to have brought a strange quietness over the city.”

“Yes, that is it exactly. I could not pinpoint the strange feeling I had as we were walking down the
streets.
. . but, there is an unearthly quiet.
Almost as though it is the calm before the storm.”
Sarah said.

Andrew said, “I am sure Edgar just wandered off.”

Soon they reached the pond and stood beside John and Anna gazing over the water, around the edges, looking for the familiar face. Suddenly Anna pointed and tugged at Sarah’s skirt, “Miss Sarah, there’s Edgar’s boat, but I don’t see him anywhere.”

Sarah had never felt so near fainting before. She was thankful that Andrew’s hand on her elbow offered a firm support. “Do either of you see him? What shall we do?” Her voice was not unduly loud, but was rising with intensity, “Where shall we look? He would not voluntarily leave his boat!”

With his free hand Andrew patted her arm, “We will find him, Sarah. Do not upset yourself and Anna.”

At the reminder of Anna, Sarah took some calming breaths and said, “Of course. Where do you suggest we begin?”

“Let us divide up and search different sections of the park.” He quickly laid out a plan for John to go one direction, Sarah and Anna another and himself another. “As you walk past the forest areas, look carefully down each row. The way the trees are planted in such straight lines, it should be easy to spot him if he is among the trees.”

Sarah and Anna walked quietly through their assigned section. They were quite discouraged when they returned to the pond. They took a seat on one of the nearby benches.

“Here comes
cousin
Andrew!” Anna said. Then her face fell, “He is alone.”

Andrew joined them on the bench to wait for John. When Sarah saw John approaching with Edgar, she started to rise to rush to the lad, but the gentle touch of Andrew’s hand on her shoulder restrained her.

John and Edgar came to a stop before the bench. “I am sorry, Miss Sarah,” Edgar said with his head bowed in contrition.

Sarah took his hands in hers and said gently, “You are forgiven. I am just thankful you are all right.”

John mumbled, “At least one of the Bingley sisters is forgiving.”

Edgar leaned forward and whispered to Sarah, “Thank you for not running forward and scolding me like I was an infant.”

“You are quite welcome. Now shall we hear of your adventure?”

“Some boys invited me to sail my boat with
them.
. . to see who could get their vessel furthest out into the pond. It was very difficult because the air is so still.”

“Yes, we also noticed the stillness,” Andrew said.

“I forgot that I should come and tell you about going to the
pond.
. . after the race, I could not get my boat back,” with the grin he added, “unless you’d allow me to take my shoes and stockings off a wade in after it?”

John swatted at him playfully, “Even I know that would not be appropriate behavior for the ambassador’s son.”

“So, the boys and I started rolling hoops to see who could go the furthest without tipping their hoop over. I was doing very well, too, until Cousin John found me.”

“Indeed he was,” John said. “However, a good captain never deserts his ship. Let us see if we can retrieve it.”