Page 42 of A Sham Betrothal
Sophie was in high looks. Her cheeks were a delicatepink that he thought had nothing to do with rouge. Powdered, clothed, and shod as she was so fashionably, she would be considered a classic beauty by anyone’s standards. But it was her unadorned nature that shone the brightest to Basile and made him love her. She turned a smiling visage his way, pausing her words in expectation.
“Come, Sophie,” he said. He held out his arm. His eyes were still on the queen, who was attentive to the French earl whispering in her ear. Sophie glanced at him with a worried expression but took his arm.
“What is it?” Armand asked, and Zoé leaned in to whisper to him as Grégoire moved to join them.
Basile led Sophie toward the queen, trusting his friends to follow. This was the most difficult moment, but he was poised for the battle and encouraged that every one of his friends would be at his side.
After giving Basile a sharp look, the queen disappeared through the large dining room, and theComte de Vaudreuil came to meet him.
“Her Majesty wishes to speak to you,” he said. “Now.”
Basile acknowledged this with a nod. He could not resist adding, “I am not surprised, given all the whispers. I would only caution you to take care from whom you have the information that you carry to the queen.”
Without waiting for a reply, he brought Sophie into thesalon de compagniewhere the queen had gone. She sat on one of the pink upholstered chairs there, waiting. Several of her attendants and courtiers flocked around her.
“Madame,” he said, bowing again deeply. “You wished to have a word with me?
Her smiling demeanor was gone, and she looked down at Sophie’s feet. “It is true then,” she said to her. “You arewearing shoes with red heels when such a fashion is reserved for nobility.”
Sophie’s eyes widened, and Basile knew she had not understood the significance of the shoes he had sent her. Diamond-buckled shoes with a heel stained red, a sign of thenoblesse. She had not known it was a sign that he intended to make her his marchioness in earnest. His intention was to propose to her with the rubies.
He hid all signs of agitation when he replied. “It is only natural, my queen, for we are to be married. She will therefore be a marchioness. If we have precipitated the wedding by her wearing the noble shoes, it was only for this dinner to honor Your Majesty.” Sophie darted a worried look at him.
“That is all very well,” the queen said, “but some of my attendants have said that you do not mean to marry her at all. That it was all done as a whim to humiliate your new queen by provoking me to take up your cause and look the fool. What have you to say to that?”
Spears of alarm pierced Basile. He had not counted on an open confrontation. Now it was imperative he convince Sophie their engagement was every bit as real as if they’d met over the course of a period of months, had walked together, danced together, shared intimate conversation, and had fallen head over heels in love. In fact, it was so. All of it was true. Except it occurred in weeks, not months.
Sophie was wading through a nightmare.Could the queen of France have authority over an Englishwoman to the degree that she might put her in prison? Would Basile bepunished in some similar way? She looked at him and caught his look of disquiet at the accusations the queen brought against them.
“Votre Majesté,” Basile said, “I fear you have been fed misleading information, but it is not coming from us.”
He reached into the left pocket inside his coat and pulled out a small black velvet bag. Taking it in two hands, he bowed and presented it to her. “This is, perhaps, an opportune time to present you with a small gift I brought with hopes that it will please Your Majesty.”
The queen took it from his hands, looking at him almost warily. She opened the pouch and pulled out a bracelet made of a single row of sapphires of considerable size. Her eyebrows rose, for she had a weakness for jewelry. She brought her regard up to Basile.
Sophie saw the stones winking and glittering in the candlelight of the room. Much though she might wish to forget the widow’s words, she could not help but think of what she’d said. That Basile had not bestowed any fine jewelry upon her, and that therefore he did not love her.
It was true, of course. He did not love her. This betrothal was made up, so he would not be giving her any jewelry. But for once, she thought how nice it would be to be cherished in that way.
“Along with this gift for you,” Basile continued, pulling his gaze from the queen to glance at her, “I hope you will be pleased with the gift I have brought for my intended. I planned to use the dinner to present it to her, but I believe Fate has directed us on a different course. For what better timing than to present it to her in a more intimate setting with you at the head?” He turned and caught Sophie’s hand.
She did not understand what he was doing. Was thispart of his scheme? He had never shared his plan with her, and she certainly hoped he had one. Basile reached into his other inside pocket and brought out another velvet bag, this one much larger and more worn. He presented it to Sophie with a bow.
“Mon amour,” he began, causing her to freeze. This public endearment would make it much harder to pull back from.Heavens! Is he thinking this through?“This is my family’s set of jewels. It has always belonged to theMarquisatde Verdelle ever since the title was created. As we are to be married, I now wish to gift them to you.”
Wordlessly, she took it from him and opened the bag. Her fingers trembled with everyone’s eyes turned her way. Out of the velvet pouch, a sparkling ruby necklace with several connecting stones in shiny gold slipped into her hand. A ring fell onto the floor, causing Grégoire to dart forward to catch it. He handed it back to Sophie. Then the rest of the contents, a pair of earrings and a bracelet, slipped out as well. She placed them back on top of the bag to keep a more secure hold of it all, then looked at Basile warily.
He turned to the queen. “Altesse, are you satisfied with the authenticity of our engagement?”
One of the courtiers was whispering in the queen’s ear, and Sophie caught him saying the words “les bijoux sont connus, sa mère les portait…” He was assuring her that these were indeed the jewels that belonged to the family, for even his mother had worn them. Basile could not be giving such a sentimental and priceless gift to her in truth, but it seemed so cruel and unnecessary to take their charade to such a level.
“I am satisfied,” Marie-Antoinette said. She directed a hard stare at Madame Bordenave, who stood at the back ofthe room watching the proceedings. “It looks as though your information wasune erreur—unless you wished to make a fool of your queen.”
Madame Bordenave had gone white, and she slipped out of the room, bumping into Sheldon on her way out. Catching a glimpse of the queen, not even he dared to make a scene. He, too, quickly disappeared from sight.
The queen smiled upon Basile. “Perhaps you might bring your fiancée to thepetite salle à mangerand help her to adorn herself with this charming addition, for I had noticed she was rather bare of adornment. Then we can move into the large dining room to begin the celebrations.
“Je vous remercie de vos bonnes grâces,” Basile replied, taking the velvet bag from Sophie’s hands, which had gone cold, and cupping the jewelry into one of his hands. Having thanked the queen, he slipped his other hand around her arm and led her to the small dining room the queen had indicated. She followed him numbly. The room was empty save for a servant, who quickly departed upon seeing them.
