her! But there is only the thrill of the hunt on Queen Caroline’s face. She has been waiting for this moment, and as she sits forward in her chair, I have a good idea what she’s going to say.
“So tell me, Your Majesty, how does it feel to be the empress of France?” Caroline, a queen with riches beyond imagining, is envious of this nineteen-year-old girl.
Marie-Louise hesitates. She has no idea how competition runs in the Bonaparte blood. “It—it is a tremendous honor,” she replies.
“Not yet twenty, and the entire world before you. What do you want to do, now that you’re married? What goals do you hope to accomplish?” Caroline wants to know how her life will change on Marie-Louise’s arrival.
The room waits tensely for her answer. Perhaps it’s the firelight on her golden hair, or the earnestness in her gaze, but there is something appealing in this second empress. “I can think of nothing I wish to accomplish,” she says, “but to be a good wife to my husband and serve the nation.”
Caroline turns to Collette and laughs. She thinks Marie-Louise is toying with her. “A good and obedient wife,” she repeats. “How charming.”
“You asked what I hoped for,” the empress replies, “and those are my desires.”
Queen Caroline stiffens. “Well, the first empress was loved in Paris,” she says. “ No one in France had more class or style. So if you wish to be a good wife, I suggest you pay attention. Tomorrow I will give you appropriate clothing. And that dog”—she wrinkles her nose in distaste—“will have to stay here.”
“No one is taking Sigi!” The empress rises, and Count Neipperg stands as well. “He goes with me or I do not go at all.”
“Your husband does not like animals, Your Highness. I suggest you make your farewells tonight. And not just to Sigi,” she adds cruelly, “but to all things Austrian. Including your ladies. These are instructions from the emperor himself.”
“That she leave her spaniel ?” Neipperg challenges.
“It’s an animal ,” the queen replies, as if no one could ever grow attached to such a thing. “It will find a new owner.”
Marie-Louise buries her face in the dog’s fur, and the only sound in the room is the crackling of the fire. When my father taught me history as a boy in Haiti, he spoke of just such a scene when Marie-Antoinette was sent from Vienna. “I won’t leave Sigi behind,” she swears.
But Caroline is unmoved. “You do not have a choice.”
Marie-Louise looks at Neipperg, as if the final decision rests with him. “We are done here,” he announces, and takes her arm.
The Austrian women hurry to rise, and Queen Caroline calls after them, “We leave at eight.” But no one is paying her any attention. “Tell them, Paul! Make sure they understand—”
Marie-Louise spins around. “We understand perfectly . My hearing,” she explains, “is as good as my French.”
Collette covers her mouth in shock as the new empress turns on her heel and walks away.
As soon as the Austrians are gone, the queen whispers, “He will lock her in his rooms and throw away the key. Paul, I want you to be sure that girl is ready for eight. That means up at five and dressing by six. She will look French whether she wishes it or not.”
“And the count?” I search Caroline’s face, to determine whether she can really be so ignorant. “Shall I wake him as well? He will want to come.”
“He may want all sorts of things,” she says viciously. “Unless his name is Metternich, he stays here. In Austria. Our little swan is a married woman now. If she was foolish enough to take the count as her lover, that is no concern of mine.”
So she did see the way he touched the empress’s knee, and how she watched him when he rose angrily to defend her.
Half a dozen servants arrive to show us to our chambers, but when I reach my room, sleep does not come. It’s bitterly, bone-chillingly, impossibly cold. But that is not what is
“So tell me, Your Majesty, how does it feel to be the empress of France?” Caroline, a queen with riches beyond imagining, is envious of this nineteen-year-old girl.
Marie-Louise hesitates. She has no idea how competition runs in the Bonaparte blood. “It—it is a tremendous honor,” she replies.
“Not yet twenty, and the entire world before you. What do you want to do, now that you’re married? What goals do you hope to accomplish?” Caroline wants to know how her life will change on Marie-Louise’s arrival.
The room waits tensely for her answer. Perhaps it’s the firelight on her golden hair, or the earnestness in her gaze, but there is something appealing in this second empress. “I can think of nothing I wish to accomplish,” she says, “but to be a good wife to my husband and serve the nation.”
Caroline turns to Collette and laughs. She thinks Marie-Louise is toying with her. “A good and obedient wife,” she repeats. “How charming.”
“You asked what I hoped for,” the empress replies, “and those are my desires.”
Queen Caroline stiffens. “Well, the first empress was loved in Paris,” she says. “ No one in France had more class or style. So if you wish to be a good wife, I suggest you pay attention. Tomorrow I will give you appropriate clothing. And that dog”—she wrinkles her nose in distaste—“will have to stay here.”
“No one is taking Sigi!” The empress rises, and Count Neipperg stands as well. “He goes with me or I do not go at all.”
“Your husband does not like animals, Your Highness. I suggest you make your farewells tonight. And not just to Sigi,” she adds cruelly, “but to all things Austrian. Including your ladies. These are instructions from the emperor himself.”
“That she leave her spaniel ?” Neipperg challenges.
“It’s an animal ,” the queen replies, as if no one could ever grow attached to such a thing. “It will find a new owner.”
Marie-Louise buries her face in the dog’s fur, and the only sound in the room is the crackling of the fire. When my father taught me history as a boy in Haiti, he spoke of just such a scene when Marie-Antoinette was sent from Vienna. “I won’t leave Sigi behind,” she swears.
But Caroline is unmoved. “You do not have a choice.”
Marie-Louise looks at Neipperg, as if the final decision rests with him. “We are done here,” he announces, and takes her arm.
The Austrian women hurry to rise, and Queen Caroline calls after them, “We leave at eight.” But no one is paying her any attention. “Tell them, Paul! Make sure they understand—”
Marie-Louise spins around. “We understand perfectly . My hearing,” she explains, “is as good as my French.”
Collette covers her mouth in shock as the new empress turns on her heel and walks away.
As soon as the Austrians are gone, the queen whispers, “He will lock her in his rooms and throw away the key. Paul, I want you to be sure that girl is ready for eight. That means up at five and dressing by six. She will look French whether she wishes it or not.”
“And the count?” I search Caroline’s face, to determine whether she can really be so ignorant. “Shall I wake him as well? He will want to come.”
“He may want all sorts of things,” she says viciously. “Unless his name is Metternich, he stays here. In Austria. Our little swan is a married woman now. If she was foolish enough to take the count as her lover, that is no concern of mine.”
So she did see the way he touched the empress’s knee, and how she watched him when he rose angrily to defend her.
Half a dozen servants arrive to show us to our chambers, but when I reach my room, sleep does not come. It’s bitterly, bone-chillingly, impossibly cold. But that is not what is
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