Saving The Marquise's Granddaughter Read Free

“My brother said he would talk with her this evening.” She waved her fan before her face, grateful for the cool air it stirred.
    “ Your brother?” He pointed at Jeanne, who was kissing Etienne’s older brother, Pierre, full on the mouth, his lace jabot dipping into her bodice.
    Suzanne’s body tensed as Pierre rose, cocked his head at her, and gave a lascivious wink.
    The memory of Pierre’s touch, once locked away, sprang forth. Suzanne shuddered. “What is he doing here? You said he’d be occupied the entire evening.”
    Etienne shrugged, but his narrowed eyes darted around the room. “Probably here on business. Or to ruin my good time.”
    Stomach in spasms, she turned away from the twosome. “I know I should try to get along with Pierre.” And to find a way to ignore the way he looks at me.
    “Just stay away from him.” The irritation in his voice surprised her.
    She swallowed. The noise of the partygoers seemed a cacophony in her ears. The desire to go home overwhelmed her. Turning, Suzanne caught Jeanne’s triumphant smile at Etienne. What had Etienne confronted her friend about? Clearly, Jeanne thought she won some point with him.
    Etienne rubbed his top lip with his thumb, a habit he had when he felt guilty.
    She shivered. This evening wasn’t going at all as she had planned. Overhead, the painted figures on the ceiling mocked her. You’ll never get him to marry you , they taunted. She wanted to shut out all the overwhelming scents of the perfumes, the sight of so much exposed flesh, and the vulgar speech she overheard in passing.
    “Let’s get a drink.” Edging them over to the large engraved bowl, her escort snatched two full silver cups.
    Suzanne filled a plate for them with orange slices and cheese.
    Etienne handed her a drink and plopped a strawberry into his mouth. “I’m hungry.”
    The vile scent of the punch suggested someone had poured spirits into it, but she desperately needed to quell the lump in her throat. She took one tentative sip. The liquid burned all the way down, and her eyes flew open wide.
    Etienne raised an eyebrow.
    “My apologies. I forget you don’t partake.” He patted her on her back.
    Hurriedly, she consumed a few of Etienne’s berries, hoping they would take away the foul sting. She swallowed the overripe fruit, disappointed in the strawberries’ deceptive appearance.
    Etienne squeezed her hand and led her around the edge of the ballroom, avoiding the mirrored wall. He swept her out onto the dance floor.
    Suzanne refrained from gaping at the rows of diamonds gracing the long necks of several other women.
    When the dance ended, Etienne leaned in. “How many vaults do you suppose were opened so that treasured gems might be displayed this evening?” His wistful tone reminded her that his mother’s jewels might be passing by them, worn by whoever had purchased the collection.
    She wanted to say she was sorry his father had almost ruined his family financially.
    Etienne would have to ply a trade. He still had position, maintained his title, and had many friends at court, but the Marquis de LeFort needed his sons to be successful businessmen.
    “Didn’t your necklace belong to your grandmother?” Etienne’s dark eyes roamed her face.
    “Oui.” Smelling lily of the valley, now in bloom at Grand-mère’s estate, Suzanne turned her head, but couldn’t locate the wearer of the scent.
    Etienne kissed her fingertips, led her to the row of women, and then sought his place among the men.
    The music began.
    Grand-mère’s necklace jostled against her as she and Etienne executed their portion of the dance together.
    “ Belle, ” he mouthed at her, and her cheeks warmed.
    Through each new baroque dance, Suzanne gained confidence as she and her partner completed their steps. Minuet after minuet, they continued. The row of dancers swirled in colored silks, glistening jewelry, and high bewigged heads. Only moments seemed to have passed when, with surprise, she