32. Invitation

Chapter thirty-two

Invitation

T he next several weeks were a whirlwind of gaiety. Louisa had never spent such a festive Christmas season as she did in Paris, attending salons, rout parties, the opera, and balls. As a child, she had often spent a quiet Yuletide at home while her father disappeared to lavish house parties in a neighbouring county. When she had experienced London society last year, the season had started after the festivities of Christmas. Now, for the first time, she could experience the grandeur of Christmas in town, the flamboyantly magical town of Paris.

Even more festive than Christmas was the French New Year. The Revolutionaries had tried to do away with it, creating a new calendar that shifted the start of the year to harvest time. But Napoleon, when he had taken the French government by storm, had upended the calendar as well. No more of these ten-day weeks and Friday-faced festivals. It was back to a proper New Year in France, and, having been deprived of it for so many years, the people celebrated it with even more jollity.

New Year led into January, and by then, Louisa had firmly established herself as the novelty of Parisien society. After a particularly late night queening it over a literary salon, she slept late abed and then rose just in time to receive her cousin, the Comte Dammartin. It was an hour before the time that visitors were regularly admitted, but he claimed the privilege of a relative.

Dressed in a Grecian-inspired morning dress with brooches at the shoulders, Louisa received him in the drawing room. She was so tired from all her late-night frivolity that she could barely keep from yawning as he made a leg and greeted her with his characteristic enthusiasm.

"Ah, ma cousine , you must allow me to congratulate you. Everyone is talking about the Lady Louisa."

" Vraiment? What are they saying?"

"That you are an Englishwoman with the spirit of a Frenchwoman. The Général Archambeau says he's never tasted such spice served in a saucer of cream." Alphonse kissed his fingers and fanned them at her. "You were magnificent!"

"You are too kind to me," said Louisa. "If you go on with such flattery, I shall be so puffed up I will want to host my own salon."

"And the crowds would flock to it!" Alphonse replied with enthusiasm. "But you must not set yourself up as a hostess just yet, ma cherie . I have a special treat in store for you next week."

"What sort of treat?" Louisa watched Alphonse's black corkscrew curls bounce in jubilation. Her own honey-gold hair would never curl that tightly, no matter how artfully her maid used the curling tongs.

"A house party. At Malmaison. There will be dinners and dancing—a masquerade ball! "

"Malmaison? Were you not just there two months ago? That is where Empress Josephine lives, eh bien ?"

"Oui, I was visiting her when I heard of your arrival in Paris. She is a great friend of mine. Whenever she has guests to her chateau, she invites the Comte Dammartin. Next week, she bids me come again, for a fortnight this time."

"But surely your mistresses will miss you?"

"Have I not told you? Eh bien, you will laugh when you hear." Alphonse cleared his throat. "They have left me. Non, rather, I have sent them away."

"Which is it?"

"The latter. I told Hortense, no more. But what do you think happened? When I gave Hortense her congé , Mireille was so furieuse that she packed her things as well. And now they have taken rooms together by the Place de la Concorde, and both of them are abusing me to anyone who will listen."

"It sounds as if you mistreated them," said Louisa suspiciously.

" Mais non! How could you think it of me? I am a little forgetful perhaps. I do not care so much for them when I am busy with ma jolie cousine . Mireille, she asks me for jewellery. Hortense, she asks me for new gowns. Mireille desires a carriage. And Hortense, she asks me to go to Malmaison." Alphonse jumped to his feet and began to shake his finger with exasperation. "But that is too far. She knows I will bring ma cousine with me. I tell her no. I tell her to pack her things and leave. And then Mireille takes Hortense's part, and they are united against me!" He massaged his temples with his well-manicured fingers. "Pardon my excitement, but you cannot imagine the noise they made. "

Louisa raised her dark golden eyebrows. Her own father had conducted his affairs much more discreetly, and Uncle Nigel, for all his flirtations, never quite seemed to hook the lady he was fishing for. But they had never outright declared their interest in the ladies they pursued. Such goings-on were not talked of in polite society, or at least not to unmarried young ladies like herself.

Why had Alphonse dismissed his mistresses? Louisa began to wonder whether Alphonse had developed the wrong idea of their relationship. He had been squiring her about Paris for weeks as a cousinly duty, but in what capacity did he anticipate her attending the house party with him? She cleared her throat. "I am not sure that it would be proper for me to go to Malmaison with you without a chaperone."

"Proper?" Alphonse began to laugh. "Ah, cousine , you are tres anglaise . The English always worry about what is ‘proper.' Eh bien, you are ma cousine , are you not?" He reached down for Louisa's hand and pressed it. "What could be more proper?"

Louisa stiffened as Alphonse began to caress her hand. There was something unsettling about the fact that this flibbertigibbet was now focusing his attentions on her. She was confident of her ability to manage men like Horatio Smythe, but Alphonse was still an enigma. He had proved useful in introducing her to Paris society. Yet her intuition warned her against putting herself under his care for a fortnight in a foreign location. " La , my schedule is so full now. I am not sure I shall be able to attend—"

"Oh, but you must! Josephine has heard of you . She asks particularly that I bring you." Alphonse sat down beside her, so close that he was almost sitting on the edge of her Grecian skirt. He looked at her pleadingly .

Louisa wondered what exactly the former empress had said. Could it be that she had told Alphonse not to come unless he could bring his celebrated cousin with him? That would explain why he was so insistent that she go to Malmaison with him.

Louisa dissected the word in her mind. Mal. Maison. The evil house. "What is it like at Malmaison? The name itself does not inspire confidence."

Alphonse laughed. "You think it a bad house? Non, non , it is nothing of the kind. It is tres grand, as one would expect of a lady who has been empress. All gold and silk inside. The wine is only the best. And even if the weather is not fine, there are gardens in glass houses big enough to promenade in. When she is not presiding at games and dinners, La Josephine loves her gardens."

"What kind of gardens?"

"Roses. There is always a new variety that she has planted or must have. And when she learns of it, she sends couriers across the world for it until she obtains it. It is an obsession. If she were not so charming, I would tire of her talking about her garden. And besides, the roses make me sneeze. Eh bien , I feel sick with the head cold when I am in her greenhouse. And she is constantly putting flowers in my face." His voice sailed into a feminine imitation of the empress. "‘Smell this one, Phonsie, and this one too!' Argh, beurk! "

Louisa stilled, ignoring Alphonse's melodramatic motions of disgust. Roses. She knew another person for whom they were also an obsession, possibly even more so than for the Empress Josephine. A visit to Malmaison would be a dream come true for Gyles.

But why would you care about Gyles Audeley's dreams? You must think about your own interests first of all, and becoming over-familiar with Cousin Alphonse is not part of your plan. You've avoided Mr. Digby, thus far. Why become entangled with another man now?

Louisa quieted her inner voice and made up her mind. For Gyles to see the garden, it was worth the risk.

"How delightful! I have a great curiosity to see Empress Josephine's glass house. Perhaps you will tire of me talking as well, for I wish to know everything about this rose garden. I will come to Malmaison with you. But I warn you, I shall be bringing my maid and my footman."

"Bien s?r, I would assume a lady needs a maid, but surely I have footmen enough for my carriage?"

"I want my footman." Louisa forgot to diminish the intensity in her own voice. She forgot to adopt a tone of ennui and play the game that Parisians knew so well.

Alphonse's eyes narrowed. " Pourquoi? Is he your lover?"

Louisa gasped. "How absurd! No, he is my protector, my garde du corps . A lady alone in a strange country needs to be sure she will not be taken advantage of."

Your bodyguard? What a load of poppycock! Don't you remember how completely useless he was on the road to Paris? He might give the appearance of protection, but in reality, you are the one who takes care of yourself—like you always have.

"But you have my protection." Alphonse looked at her from beneath veiled eyelids. His voice turned sultry and his mouth pursed into a sensual smile.

"I am not so sure I wish to be under your protection," said Louisa, forcing a laugh. This flirtation with the count was becoming dangerous, but the lure of a rare rose garden for Gyles to visit was too tantalising to resist. She could not explain it even to herself, but she knew that it was a gift she must give him .

Louisa rose from her seat. "I accept the invitation, mon cousin ."

As she and Alphonse passed out of the open door of the drawing room, she saw Gyles standing at attention in the hallway. She refused to meet his eye. It was a mercy that he spoke little French, for he had no doubt overheard every word that had passed between her and Alphonse.

Is he your lover?

Louisa felt her face colour at the remembrance of Alphonse's words. If her footman had understood anything, she hoped that it was merely the word for roses.