Saving The Marquise's Granddaughter Read Free Page A

noted the candles being lowered.
    “I hope they change the chandelier tapers to something casting more light,” she called to Etienne as they passed each other in their steps.
    He laughed. “Unlikely.”
    Suzanne wanted to wrap a finger around one of the black curls that framed her companion’s perfect face. The most handsome young man at Versailles, Etienne belonged to her. And soon he would be her husband. All that remained lacking was his request for her hand. Her feet were on fire from the pinch of the slippers, but she mustn’t leave now. Not yet.
    Someone tapped Suzanne’s shoulder and she turned.
    Guillame. His face, paler than usual, with perspiration beading above his tight collar, caused her brother to appear as though he were being pursued.
    Suzanne’s stomach squeezed into the size of the oranges on the trees in the garden.
    “Care to dance?” Guillame offered his arm and glared at Etienne as if daring him to deny them.
    Etienne bowed toward Guillame and headed to a cluster of his friends.
    Guillame took Suzanne’s elbow and guided her onto the ballroom floor. The slower dance music held a hint of its rustic roots.
    “Let’s do one of our country dances, so I can speak with you, Suzanne.” This wouldn’t require that they change partners.
    They moved to an open area of dance floor, enough space only for them to perform the steps.
    “Stand on my boots,” he commanded.
    Peering down, she saw they were clean. But she’d anticipated they might not be. Their many forays into the countryside came to mind. Suzanne hesitated before he lifted her. One arm fit comfortably around her waist, and the other against her arm, their hands clasped.
    The best épée swordsman at court, Guillame exuded strength, and she relaxed into it. Soon his service to the king would be demanded. His own scent mixed with the lavender soap he used to bathe, but was still pleasant, unlike most of the men in the room.
    Dark eyes clouded as he explored her face. “Do you need to go home now? I can see your feet pain you.”
    “You read me well.” An uneasy sensation gripped her. Her brother perceived what Etienne hadn’t.
    “I’ve known you all your life. Of course I see your needs.”
    Did Etienne care for her as much as Guillame did? Maybe she was too sentimental, as Maman always said, wanting her husband to love and cherish her.
    “Do you need to leave?”
    “I’ll be all right.” She leaned her head against the soft wool of his jacket, shielding her face.
    Overhead, the gilded ceiling, painted with legions of fantastic figures, seemed to writhe in the candlelight.
    “This place disgusts me.”
    “Please, don’t start talking about religion here—not tonight.”
    He pulled away from her. “Listen, I have received news that could be very bad. I’m leaving, but I’ll be back to get you tonight.”
    Her back stiffened as he took hold of her waist and propelled her toward a more private area.
    “What’s happened?”
    Guillame smiled at a blonde woman who whirled by them, lilac-scented perfume enveloping her. Not one to flirt, her brother was being very deliberate in his behavior.
    “Rochambeau sent for me—perhaps to help guard the body of the king’s dead courtesan.”
    Her stomach clenched. She’d heard the disgusting rumors that no sooner had the woman died than King Louis brought her sister to court, to replace his mistress.
    “I’m surprised they haven’t called me sooner to do my service.”
    She wasn’t.
    “With Grand-mère gone, we cannot further excuse my duty.”
    “But, what if something happens with us, if…” If they were found out, Guillame would take Maman and Suzanne to Aachen and then on to Amsterdam, where they kept money on hand. From there, they’d sail on to the colonies, where they would begin a new life.
    They’d been to Amsterdam several times as a family, so that all would be familiar with the beautiful city. She swallowed and wished she could banish her anxiety. Dread began its