The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette by Melanie Clegg

otherwise pale cheeks. 'You are adorable!' He fondly tweaked the ruffled blue silk ribbon around my neck, which matched my dress and dropped a kiss upon my hand.

    'Our little sister is going to surpass us all soon,' Amalia agreed with him, smiling at me fondly. 'I should be quite chagrined at the prospect of losing all of my suitors to her.' She took my hand and unfurled her enormous ostrich feather fan, which had been dyed to match her dress. 'Come, let us go and slay hearts.'

    Joseph reached out and placed a warning hand on Amalia's arm. 'Sister...'  

    A look passed between them and after a moment Amalia unwillingly nodded her head. 'Do not worry; I won't do anything to embarrass you.' We swept away into the gallery, passing through the great crowd of people that had gathered there in gorgeous new clothes and their finest diamonds. The air was heavy with the rich, voluptuous scents of hair powder, musky perfumes and the violet pastilles that almost everyone chews in order to sweeten their breath. I knew these people well, had seen them almost every day of my life and yet they all looked quite alien to me at that moment as their kohl rimmed eyes stared at Amalia and myself and they moved back and curtseyed to let us through, their brightly coloured silk and brocade skirts rustling and their high heels tip tapping on the polished wooden parquet floor, which still smelt faintly of beeswax and lavender.

    'It is the youngest girl,' I heard them whisper to each other behind their painted and gilded fans, as I pretended not to hear. 'The one who is to be Dauphine. How pretty she is.'

    Amalia turned her head and gave me a slight smile. 'Awful isn't it?' she mouthed with an understanding wink. 'Oh la la, how they all like to stare.' She led me up to the carpeted dais at the far end where Mama, dressed in her customary heavy black taffeta sat with Marianna, Elizabeth, Christina and Carolina, all of whom were dressed in thickly embroidered cloth of gold and silver and blazing with Imperial diamonds. 'You both look very fine,' Mama said with an approving nod after she had looked us both up and down. 'I am pleased.' She looked directly at me. 'Maria Antonia, you will dance the second cotillion with Monsieur du Durfort. Please be on your best behaviour.'  

    I curtseyed and looked past her to Carolina, who looked very stiff, unhappy and young in her gorgeous white and gold dress, which had an enormous   panniered skirt and a diamond and pearl encrusted stomacher. It was odd to be looking up at her in her seat of honour in between Mama and Christina on the dais, when once she would have been standing right next to me, giggling, skipping from foot to foot and wondering aloud where all the young men were.  

    'Carolina does not look very happy,' I whispered to Amalia as we made our way back down the gallery, bowing and curtseying to all of the dozens of courtiers as once again they parted to let us through. In the distance I could see Karl standing beside the door and watching us over the heads of the crowd, his eyes fixed on the lovely face of my sister.

    Amalia sighed and shrugged. 'Marriage does seem to be a rather depressing business,' she said, fanning herself and curtseying to an elderly Duchess. 'I expect that she will perk up once the deed is done.'

    'Do you really think so, Amalia?' I asked, accepting a glass of punch from a passing footman.

    'No.'

    Thursday, 7 th April, Carolina's wedding day.
    I can hardly believe that it is all over.  

    My maid woke me up early so that I could be quickly helped into my very lovely pink and silver brocade dress (the stomacher is sewn all over with diamonds from one of Mama's old dresses, not that you would ever know it for they gleam and dazzle so much in the sunlight) before running down the corridor to Carolina's room, where she was already dressed in her magnificent cloth of gold wedding gown and sitting sullenly silent in front of the mirror on her dressing table as her maids