Loss of Innocence

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I

Early Summer 1789

The Bordeaux Valley, Château de Beaumont

 The young rider urged his mount on, propelled by the thunderheads building on the distant horizon and by his need to reach the Château de Beaumont to inform its countess, Eugénie Devereux, about what he had learned.
Sitting alone in her sun-drenched garden, Comtesse de Beaumont was unaware of the gathering storm. She was the last in a long and proud lineage dating back to the reign of Charlemagne when the emperor rewarded her ancestor’s loyalty with substantial holdings in the Bordeaux valley. Down through the generations, the de Beaumonts’ fidelity and political astuteness were invaluable to the reigning powers of France. Groomed from an early age by a doting mother and father, Eugénie Devereux assumed the mantle of responsibility at the time of their premature death and carried it lightly on her young shoulders. Now, no longer a young maid, she is a woman in the prime of life, a person of influence and an active member of the nobility’s inner circle.

Enjoying a rare afternoon to herself, Eugénie absently twirled a lock of chestnut hair as she scanned the letter she had just finished writing. She paused, hearing footsteps.
“Ah, Jeremy, you’ve returned,” Eugénie said, smiling at the handsome, young black man who walked through the tall hedge, holding a small white dog in his arms. “How did you find Versailles?”
“The same as ever, Madame—the usual gossiping and backstabbing.” Eugénie put her lap desk on the ground and moved the skirt of her yellow gown to make room for him on the stone bench.
Jeremy shook his head. “Non, merçi, Mistress. It’s a relief to stand after so long in the saddle.” He put the puppy down on the grass and the little animal immediately scurried over to the hedge and plopped down in the shade of the boxwood.
“Miss Eugénie, the current color becomes you,” he said, noticing how the deep shade set off her chestnut hair. “You put the ladies of the court to shame.”
“How gallant you are, Jeremy!” she said, then lowered her voice. “But, even this far from court, we must be careful not to give invisible ears grist for the gossip mill. I agree, the queen’s choice of yellow this year is a great improvement over that atrocious brownish-green of last season,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “The queen may be partial to Rousseau’s return-to-nature philosophy, but I say leave the colors of the soil on the Earth as God intended. D’accord, tell me about the thoroughbred transaction, and, more importantly, how you found the climate at Versailles since the riots in Paris and the fall of the Bastille?”
Jeremy looked at his mistress fondly. It had been fourteen years since the Comtesse de Beaumont brought him as a young boy to France from the island of Bermuda and drawn up papers securing his freedom. He had quickly endeared himself to all the members of the château household. The countess had seen to it that he received the finest training in France to become a Master of the Horse. He now oversaw her extensive stables, traveling across France and abroad to purchase, sell, and trade bloodstock. Through his efforts, no stable in France surpassed the château’s racers and hunters. As the countess’s representative, he had become a familiar face at events outside the Thoroughbred world. Acting as the countess’s eyes and ears, he also was one of the network of agents who kept her informed of the world beyond the château’s walls.
“The court carries on the same as ever, but I felt something disturbing just below the surface,” Jeremy replied. “I overheard the queen’s confidante, the Austrian ambassador Mercy d’Argenteau, speak of her anger at the developments of the past few weeks and her growing irritation with the Marquis de Lafayette and his reformist views.”
“It sounds as if King Louis is caught between a rock and a hard spot,” Eugénie murmured, “trying to meet the expectations of the newly formed National Assembly on the one hand and his queen’s demands on the other. What he concedes in the morning, she convinces him to reverse by nightfall.”
“Yes, that’s about the gist of it. Meanwhile, she plans her next ball or amuses herself frolicking with her ladies at the Hamlet.”
“It does seem contradictory that she had that quaint peasants’ village built as her refuge from the formality of court, and yet she dismisses out of hand the people’s’ woes.”
“She’s not a friend of the people, nor are they of her,” Jeremy said sharply.
“It was not always that way, Jeremy. Quel dommage! But who are we to judge her? How easy could it be for that high-spirited young maid of fifteen to leave Austria and her royal family, where she was the cosseted darling, and come to this country to marry the future king and have to conform to the etiquette of a court so different from her own?”
“Madame, you’re too kind. You were the same age when you lost both of your parents and had to shoulder the responsibilities of your family’s vast holdings. I have no sympathy for ‘Madame Deficit,’ ” Jeremy said with feeling.
“Jeremy, for shame—using her brother-in-law Provence’s cruel nickname.”
“Je suis desolé, Madame, but she earned it even before the diamond necklace affair. And she’s called much worse—‘l’Autri-Chienne,’ ‘Co …’ ”
“Jeremy,” Eugénie said, interrupting him, “ça suffit! Her involvement in that scandal is old news, and totally false at that. That silly, pretentious man finally admitted that the queen had refused the necklace and had had nothing whatsoever to do with his feeble plan. Isn’t it enough that, in the three years since then, the queen has withdrawn from the public eye and all the things she used to enjoy? She’s become a virtual recluse at Versailles, venturing out only when coerced. Alors, if there’s nothing more, I’d best go prepare for the Marquis de Lafayette’s visit.”
Realizing that he had upset the person who meant everything in the world to him, Jeremy said quickly, “Forgive me, I went too far.”
“You’re forgiven, dear Jeremy. The queen does seem to bring out the most extreme emotions. She’s either loved or despised, nothing in between. But, really, I must go—unless there’s something further?”
“There is. Now, more than ever, there are those who openly come out and criticize her.” He reached up and picked an orange from a nearby tree. Peeling it, he continued, “They blame her for keeping the court at Versailles, instead of letting it move back and forth between the palace and Paris. Once again, she lacks any concern for the burdens she places on others.”
“Ah, Jeremy, you see, that’s a perfect example of how untruths become fact. The queen can’t be held responsible for the court’s residing at Versailles. It was Louis’s ancestor, Louis XIV, who built Versailles for the very purpose of putting some distance between the court and the gossipmongers of Paris. She may prefer the countryside to Paris, but so does the king with his devotion to the hunt, which he enjoys every day, rain or shine.”
“I stand corrected, milady,” Jeremy said, though he looked anything but contrite. “Oh, I almost forgot. I also noticed glaring absences at court. At least one or two members from each faction were missing. Why, the king’s own brother d’Artois was not in attendance. I would’ve assumed that he was with the queen or otherwise occupied, were it not for that pup.” He gestured towards the dog sleeping contentedly. “The poor little thing was running from person to person, as if asking where his master was. D’Artois is devoted to all his horses and dogs, but that one was his favorite. They were inseparable.”
“Jeremy, I never fail to marvel at your knowledge of even the most trivial things, but what’s the dog doing here? Le Duc will miss him when he returns to court.”
“I couldn’t just leave the little fella. For all practical purposes, he’s been abandoned. From what I heard, the duke won’t be back any time soon. Word is, he was very angry at the change in the king’s standing since the Bastille’s fall. He left France, taking a small fortune with him to raise a mercenary army to reinstate the king’s absolute authority when he returns.”
“Jeremy, what you say supports the rumors I’ve heard that members of the nobility are emigrating or planning to emigrate to the United States, or perhaps to some friendly European soil, to escape the growing hostilities. So far, I haven’t heard that any have left from this region, but we’re insulated down here.” The countess looked off for a moment, deep in thought.
Mentally shaking herself, she looked back at Jeremy and smiled. “Of course, the pup is welcome, here. We’ll call him ‘Émigré.’ ”
At her words, the pup raced over to nestle in her skirts and promptly fell back to sleep. “How quickly loyalties shift,” Eugénie said, leaning over to pat the little dog’s head. “Jamie returned from Paris last night with yet another alarming report. He said the talk in the taverns is that the queen plots to mine the National Assembly, poison the king, and replace him with d’Artois and that she’s written her brother, Emperor Leopold, asking him to send a force to invade France!”
Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Certainly, I’ve no sympathy for the queen, but that’s absurd. No one can take that seriously.”
“I couldn’t agree more, Jeremy, but her enemies grow bolder every day. Who knows what they’ll concoct next? Only God knows where it will end. If I’m hearing these monstrous things, surely they’re reaching the king’s and queen’s ears as well. Speaking of that poor man, how did you find the king?”
Jeremy finished an orange section, and then replied, “He seemed harried, lacking his customary patience. He was more preoccupied than ever. When it was my turn to come forward, his face visibly brightened. He immediately announced the end of the court’s business for the day and, with me in tow, retired directly to the stables.”
“That poor, beleaguered man,” Eugénie murmured.
“The king has a most discerning eye for horseflesh. He took our entire lot and demanded more,” Jeremy chuckled. “If he were as adept with people as he is with horses, his kingdom would be as fine as his stables.”
Eugénie couldn’t help smiling, even though she knew she should chastise him for his impudence. But how could she? What a remarkable person he’d grown up to be. She looked at him with pride. There was little of the young boy in the man who stood before her, except for the boundless energy and curiosity that still, at times, caused dissension in her household. “Ah, at least that transaction was a bright spot in his day,” she sighed. “Now I must go and prepare to receive the Marquis de Lafayette.” She rose and moved towards Jeremy to take his arm. Jeremy stepped back, holding up his hands.
“Non, Madame. The long ride from Versailles has left little difference between me and my horse.”
“Jeremy, you must think me a prig that I would mind the perfume of the stable. I spend so many hours of the day as the chatelaine, I rarely have time to be with my precious beasts. Now, give me your arm and let me enjoy the pleasure of your ride vicariously.”
With a smile, the young man bowed and offered her his arm. Together, they strolled down the graveled path, with the pup scampering along behind them.
“The king kept eyeing Roan IV,” Jeremy said, chuckling. “Had his Highness not been called away, no doubt he would have taken the horse right out from under me!”
Eugénie threw back her head and laughed, imagining the king’s bulging eyes feasting on the beautiful stallion.

 

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