was Pons, watching for them to appear, and at a signal from Aigrette, he rapped the marble floor with a long staff. The music stopped; the dancers paused; a stillness fell over all.
“My lords and ladies and honored guests,” rang out the majordomo, “the Lady Aigrette presents her daughter, the Lady Camille, Princess of the Summerwood!”
Camille was thunderstruck, for she did not consider herself a princess of anything, much less the Summerwood. And a great intake of air swept throughout the room, as men and women looked up to see, standing high above, the beautiful golden-haired girl in the sapphire-blue gown.
Though Camille was bewildered, Aigrette was in her glory, as down the staircase she descended, arm in arm with Camille, Aigrette’s chin held high in queenly dominance, the mother of a princess no less. Ah, yes, she was indeed glad that Camille had come to visit, as all dutiful daughters should.
As Milli had predicted, the eyes of all men were irresistibly drawn to Camille, and the eyes of all women narrowed and perhaps even filled with envy, and some did fill with despair, for Camille was stunningly beautiful, and it is doubtful that anyone whatsoever even noted that Aigrette was at this splendid creature’s side.
And pressing forward through the crowd came Giles, hauling Papa Henri in tow, with Felise and Colette right behind, then the twins-Joie and Gai-and finally Lisette, the eldest of the sisters coming last of all.
As moths to a light, Camille was surrounded by young men, each one demanding a dance, and man after man offered her glass cups of punch and begged for a stroll in the garden out by the wishing well.
During a pause in the music, Camille leaned over and whispered behind her fan to Giles, “Wishing well?”
“Papa’s old well out back,” he murmured. “Maman had a stone wall put ’round, with a roof above and a winch and a bucket across, all to replace the old wooden trapdoor and the pail on a rope we used to cast down and flip over to draw water. And she had gardeners plant violets and such, and vines… all to hide the fact that it was once nothing more than a farmer’s clay-walled cistern.”
Camille looked at her mother, now surrounded by a group of older women, all of whom Camille had been introduced to, none of whose names she remembered. Her mere preened among them, and even though she was standing quite still, it appeared as if she were strutting. And as Maman spoke, the older women cast glances toward Camille, and now and then one would break away to urgently talk to a young man or two, presumably a son or sons.
Playing two violins, a viola, a cello, a harpsichord, and a tambourine, the six musicians struck up again, and Camille’s next partner came and fetched her, this one quite old and fat and short and leering; Lord Jaufre, he named himself, and, in spite of his obvious bulk, Camille could hear the creak of a corset as he bent to kiss her hand, managing to slobber all over her fingers. And all through the dance, he talked of his hounds while peering quite closely at her bosom.
And she danced the minuet, and then the quadrille, and then more dances after, all with different partners as listed on the dance card dictated by her mother-young men, old men, tall and short, stout and slender, all quite wealthy men, or sons of the very rich. And though she glided about the floor with these various partners, Camille could not think of aught but Alain, for he had taught her each of the dances, and she did miss him so.
And so she stepped and curtseyed and turned and paraded ’round the chamber and paced hand-to-hand with old roues or handsome rakes, or whirled about in a joyous fling with robust and laughing young men, but she would have given it all up, and gladly, just to be sitting quietly with Alain at distant Summerwood Manor.
Midmorn of the next day, from one of the guest rooms where she had been quartered, Camille descended to find five of her siblings and Papa breaking fast at a long, walnut-wood table. She served herself buffet-style from a sideboard, selecting from scrambled eggs, rashers, hot biscuits and butter and jellies and jams, and tea.
She took a seat beside Giles and said, “You are looking quite fit, Little Frere, less given to searching for air.”
Giles nodded. “I still have a bit of trouble breathing at times, though mostly not.”
“The doctor claims his former ill health had something to do with thatch,” said Papa Henri, “especially thatch that has gone to mold, though what mold or even thatch has to do with aught, I cannot say.”
“Maman says the doctor is a fool,” said Lisette, “and that it had more to do with dampness and wind whistling through chinks than with any dark mold.”
Giles made a face and shuddered. “Even so, I still have to take that awful medicine.”
“Well if you ask me,” said Colette, “I think it was all due to ill vapors, and somehow they’ve gone away.”
“Regardless,” said Papa, “be it mold, thatch, wind, damp, or ill vapors, clearly Giles is much better, and whether it is due to our new home or the medicine, who can say?”
Camille leaned over and embraced Giles. “Papa is right, and I am so glad for you.”
They ate in silence for a moment, Camille looking about, and then she turned to her father at the head of the table and asked, “Papa, this mansion is quite splendid. Who built it?”
“Hundreds of workmen from Rulon,” said Henri, “and in but nine months or so.”
“Maman drove them mercilessly,” said Colette.
“Had she a whip, she would have lashed them,” said Joie, Gai at her side nodding, the twins in total agreement.
“They were lazy,” said Lisette, glaring about at the others as if in challenge.
“Lazy?” exclaimed Giles, taking up the cast gauntlet from across the table. He gestured about. “Papa says they did the impossible, completing this mansion in but the time they did.”
“Only because of Maman,” retorted Lisette.
“Only because of Maman for what?” demanded Aigrette as she swept into the room.
“ ’Tis only because of your efforts, Maman,” said Lisette, “that the mansion was started and finished when it was.”
“Indeed,” Maman replied as she took her place at the foot of the table. “Had I not kept after those idlers, we would still be living in your pere’s hovel.” She rang the small handbell.
Giles leaned over to Camille and said, “They tore it down, you know-Papa’s old place.”
“Good riddance,” snapped Maman Aigrette, though at the opposite end of the board a look of sadness touched Papa’s eyes.
An attendant came into the room, and under Aigrette’s sharp instructions, he readied and served her a plate, though he did have to return to the sideboard several times to get the best of the scrambled eggs, the portions quite small, and then the correct jellies in small dabs as well, for the waists of Maman’s gowns were quite tight, and she would have them so. When at last she dismissed the servant with a haughty wave, he left in obvious relief.
“Where is Felise?” asked Camille, glancing toward the door.
“Probably yet abed and enjoying Allard’s attentions,” replied Colette, wistfully.
“Allard?”
“Her husband.”
“Felise is married?”
“Indeed,” said Maman, raising her chin and peering down her nose at Camille. “And she married quite well, I might add.”
“Oh, but not as well as you, Camille,” said Colette, “you being wedded to a prince and all.”
Lisette muttered something under her breath, and Giles said across to her, “Fear not, dear Sister, for you might on a day snag some unwitting soul.”
Colette and the twins burst into laughter at the lad’s gibe, with Giles grinning in the face of Lisette’s glower. Camille hid her own smile behind her napkin.
Even though he kept a straight face, Papa said, “Now, now, mes filles et fils, let us have no-”
“Giles!” snapped Maman. “You will treat your sisters with respect.”
“But, Maman-” began Giles, only to chop to silence as Aigrette glared at him.
Even as Lisette’s scowl at Giles turned into a smirk, “What’s all the laughing about?” said Felise, coming into the room, an anticipatory grin ’neath the freckles on her face, her complexion a bit flushed and glowing, as if she had just been engaged in some strenuous activity.
Giles laughed. “I said to Lisette, that-”
“Giles!” snapped Lisette and Maman together, and the lad fell silent, while the twins and Colette stifled giggles.
“Good!” said Camille, setting a small bundle to the table. “Everyone’s here, and I have gifts for all.”
