EXCERPT:
Before the night became my one world, that of the
undead—I enjoyed moonlit walks along the fragrant paths of the gardens of
Versailles. Those were romantic times. I was a young lady and had one or two
admirers. Whatever advice I had been given about being cautious, I remembered
but I was young and foolish more than I was sensible.
There was one courtier, the Duc d’ Amont who
rather had my eye. He was quite handsome, dark with smoldering good looks and
the air of malice which can be so enticing to a young fool such as I.
He was always one to compliment me.
“You quite turn my head, young lady. What is your
name?”
Well, that was how it started. But that was not
how it ended.
“I am Justine, your Excellency.”
When he laughed I did not know why he laughed and
felt my cheeks flame.
“Forgive me, sweet. But you are quite amazing. One
gets tired of so much at court.”
This he said as he sniffed some snuff from a
beautiful jeweled box. “Ah! That is nice. So tell me, you beautiful creature,
what do you do in your spare time or do you not have any?”
“I have sir! I am treated most fairly. I could not
ask for more.”
After this interlude and some others, I found the
Duc’s attention growing more pronounced. When at last he tried to kiss me, he
was drunk I and I was frightened.
“Propriety is foolish, Mlle., don’t you wish to
know what love is? Or do you know already?”
I hurried away from him. Down the corridor I flew.
I wanted to go to someone, to the queen really if I am honest. But I dared not.
So I just went to my own little room near the
sewing room where I spent a sleepless night wondering what I should do. I
didn’t see him for some time after that and my worry lessened, work took it
away. Only an idle mind has time to worry, after all.
*
If one court season ended new ones began. There
were always balls and engagements being planned and gowns to get ready. I was
one of twenty busy seamstresses. There didn’t seem to be time for all we had to
do and though we tended to work silently, we did always gossip about our lack
of time to do our chores.
There were fittings for the Queen and her ladies
too. I didn’t care about them; they looked as lovely as usual but she did not.
I thought she was looking thinner and pale. I wanted so to offer her comfort
but knew I could not. Such an action would be presumptuous.
She wasn’t as chatty with me as she had been in
fact there was a marked difference in her behavior. She was more reticent. Gone
was the air of happy expectation. She seemed to be sleepwalking through life.
I wondered if she knew I worried about her because
of what she did. To my amazement the Queen suggested I attend the first ball of
the season. She even offered me a gown, but I was too shy. I chose instead to
wear something I had made for myself. It wasn’t a gown as such, it was plain;
the sort of dress an ordinary person might wear on a formal occasion. Even
while she complimented me, she looked distracted.
I did go to the ball. It was lovely to be able to
mill around and not feel I was there as a servant. I was greeted politely by
the courtiers. But then my heart nearly stopped when I saw the Duc d’ Amont
staring at me.
How had I not anticipated his attending? I felt
genuine fright at seeing him. Perhaps it was a sense of foreboding I had, I
still cannot be sure. I only remember my feeling of disquiet.
“Ah you are vision of beauty, where others cloak
themselves in jewels and finery your beauty needs no such adornment. It would
be like dressing the sun up and what with your glorious red hair—you are
sunlight itself!”
I nearly scoffed at what I took to be his effusive
complements. Not unexpectedly he looked annoyed. If I expected him to stalk off
in anger he did not. Instead he suggested I accompany him to an adjoining room.
When he saw my worried expression he smiled. “I merely wish to dance with you.”
It would not have been proper for a servant to
dance at the ball; attending was one thing and dancing another.
Before I could say anything, he took my hand and
led me out. “I know the perfect place,” he said.
The room we went to was a waiting room of sorts
for foreign envoys. It was close to the ballroom and we could hear the music.
“May I have this dance?”
I was flattered and found myself relaxing. Enjoy
yourself Justine I thought. But instead of dancing, he closed the door and
smiled. This was a smile I had not seen on his face before.
What followed was the beginning of the horror.
Without a word, he pulled at my gown tearing it. I protested and he slapped me.
I grew dizzy and passed out. When I woke I saw him looking down at me.
He laughed. “I have you now!” he cried.
I tried to shout but he hit me again. I managed to
reach for a fire poker. He realized and snarled. “You’re a little fireball
aren’t you?”
This said, as he tore my gown from me and launched
himself at me. I would not let him take me! I begged and threatened but nothing
worked.
In the
excitement I had dropped the poker. However, I did manage to pick it up and hit
his head with it. He looked startled—his eyes began to glaze over and when he
fell hard upon me I knew he was dead.
I pushed him off and rushed to the door. I would
have to escape. For I felt sure had this been discovered, even the queen would
not have been able to save me.
My heart was pounding. Down the hall I rushed, until I found
a door that opened onto a terrace. I expected guests to be there, many of the
terraces were full of party goers, but not this particular one. Out I stepped.
I looked quite a sight, my gown was torn and I knew my hair was disheveled. I
paused. Where to go? It’s all well and good to try and flee but in what
direction?
I thought to walk to the gates but there were
guards. From the state I was in, what would they think? I’d be hauled before
the head of the household staff. There was no doubt about that! That was the
last thing I wanted.
Then I noticed two people walking toward me, a
lady and a gentleman. I am done for I thought. So I ran without thinking, I
just rushed in the opposite direction. And horror of horrors I saw I was going
to crash into a man. And crash into him, I did.
“I am sorry, Monsieur. I did not mean to rush so.”
He didn’t answer right away, but took me by the
arm toward the palace. “You’re not a thief are you, up to mischief or anything
like that?”
I protested, I pleaded. But to no avail. Suddenly
we stopped. There was enough light for him to see me. “You are a mess! What
happened?”
“I was attacked…!”
“What do you mean?”
I began to stutter and found myself unable to go
on.
The gentlemen reassured me. “There, there.” he
said. “Calm down. Tell me are you hurt? Did someone harm you?”
“Yes! He tried…”
He was waiting for me to go on but I could not. I
didn’t want to say what I had to tell him. At last I broke down. “Oh sir, I
fought him as hard as I could but he beat me. And…then when he began to have
his way with me, I killed him, he’s dead!”
“Dead?
Are you sure?”
“Yes. He is that!”
“Do you know his name?”
“The Duc Amont!”
If I thought he would be horrified, he wasn’t. He
didn’t even look surprised. “You come with me. I shall help you. I give you my
word! Wait here. I will have my driver come.”
Before I could answer he put his cape around me,
quite a long cloak it was too. “There, you look fine now. Wait here no one will
see you and I will be right back!” He led me into the shadows. “Now wait!”
I did, sobbing as quietly as I could and shaking
too. It was all so crazy; I had actually killed a man! It was not to be
believed. I had killed an aristocrat! I would be thrown into prison and
executed. Of that I was sure. I was one of the common people. Before I could
think any more of this, he returned.
“Come,” he said. He hurried me along so quickly, I
stumbled. He asked me if I could walk. I said I could.
I had the feeling he was angry, not at me but at
what had happened to me. He did say
something, nothing I could understand for he spoke in Italian and rapidly. I
thought he was excited and upset for me, so he lapsed into his native tongue.
When he realized he stopped. “I am Italian by
birth--Monsieur Oriani at your service.”
At last we came to his carriage. He helped me
inside. And the carriage was off.
He was speaking a great deal. I tried so hard to
listen, but I kept falling asleep. “It is alright. Just rest we will be there
soon.”
I did sleep, waking only when the carriage
stopped. He helped me out.
“That is it.”
I was surprised for I saw an ordinary looking
house. I thought him quite important and expected to see something out of the
ordinary.
“It is the home of a friend, on loan to me.” He
said. “I will tend to your wounds after I light a fire.”
He made poultices of evil smelling concoctions.
“This will help the healing and prevent infection…”
I had deep scratches. They stung and the cool
mixture, though it chilled me at first, did ease the pain—still I hardly cared,
for I was barely awake. In fact he said I slept nearly two days.
When I woke he gave me broth to drink. It was thin
and not at all nice. “I found a cooked chicken in the larder and I have made
the broth from it. Please, it is good for you.”
I took it and under his encouraging stare, I
sipped it to his satisfaction. I think those were the beginnings of the
tenderness I felt.
We didn’t discuss what had occurred. If I thought
he’d ask me about myself he did not. Instead he spoke of mundane things to
distract me.
I realized I quite liked him; his handsome
features and his voice. It was rich sounding and educated.
Time passed strangely through dreams and shadows.
I had the sense he was there and then he wasn’t. The dreams stopped but the
shadows lasted quite a long time. I was only aware of light and dark and his
gentle voice asking me how I was.
When the shadows receded and I was alert he asked
me what I was going to do.
“You must have a plan. There is danger everywhere.
If others do not understand the danger they are in, they soon will.”
I asked him if he meant the King and Queen. He
said he did. “Day by day the people grow more angry. There have already begun
to be arrests and there is the talk of more, much more. You can stay here if
you like. I will have a servant stay with you and I will come by whenever I can
to visit you.”
I would have preferred him to stay, but who was I
to make such a suggestion?
He explained he had important business to attend
to. But that he would see me often. I watched him leave and was heartsick, but
true to his word he brought a servant back that very day, before night fall.
She was a sober looking woman, quite beyond middle
age. She was kind and didn’t ask any questions. “Call me Anna,” she said and I
did.
She realized I had many questions about her
employer and she answered them but her answers only made me want to ask more
questions.
*
In time a routine was established where Monsieur
Oriani came by regularly. Anna would always leave when he did.
It was late summer. It was hard to believe that
two months had passed. I had begun to wonder why he was keeping me there. Yet,
I welcomed his all too brief visits.
When he came, we’d have a quiet meal Anna
prepared. I had been fully recovered and was starting to wonder what I should
do. Any time I broached the subject of leaving, he told me it wasn’t safe to be
about. “There have been more arrests. Even those servants who worked for the
palace are being scrutinized. Soon the king and queen will be put on trial.”
“No!”
“Yes, but plans are being made for their exile!”
If I thought highly of him for having saved me, I
regarded him now as a saint. “You are very kind.” I said.
He took my hand and kissed it. “Do not worry, my
child. I will protect you.”
*
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