The Adventurer by Jaclyn Reding Read Free Book Online

I’ve little doubt that you will sparkle amidst the rest of that swarm of buzzing courtiers.” He bowed his head again.
“Au revoir, ma chère cousine.
And may you have a safe journey on the morrow. Please send my compliments to your fair sister when next you see her.”
    Isabella nodded, then stood and watched as he walked away. She didn’t turn until he had vanished around the flowering hedge line.
    Idonia appeared at her side. “I was beginning to fear I’d have to send in the palace guard after you.” She had been waiting for Isabella at the maze’s exit. “But I see you found a gentleman to help you. And quite a handsome one, at that. Who was he, dear?”
    Isabella, who knew that few were aware of her sister’s part in helping the prince escape that previous summer, simply answered, “I’ve never met him before, Aunt. He was nice enough to help me find my way out.”
    “He did not try to take any liberties with you, did he?” For all her eccentricities, Idonia took her role of chaperone quite seriously. “The French are never proper when it comes to matters of passion. Believe me, dear. I know this well.”
    Isabella fought back a smile. “No, Aunt, he was a perfect gentleman. In fact, I would venture to say he had the manners of a
prince.”
She turned. “Now shall we go and see if we can come up with a proper coiffure in time for this evening’s supper?”
    For their stay, the ladies had been given a courtier’s apartments in the north wing of the main palace that looked out onto the gardens. Though spare in size, the two rooms were richly decorated with brocades and gilding, and high carved ceilings. To make the most efficient use of the minimal floor space, the bed had been built nichelike into the wall, with a rolled pillow and heavy bedcovers of rich ruby damask. There was a corner washstand, a small dressing table, and an armchair near the small marble-framed hearth. The only other furnishing was a tall mahogany armoire that took up the better part of one wall.
    Isabella was sitting at the dressing table, twisting and pinning her hair into a succession of different coiffures, each equally disastrous, when she heard a knocking at the door. She glanced to the ormolu clock on the mantel, which read half past five, then at the reclining figure of Idonia who was napping on the bed in the adjacent chamber.
    “That cannot be the footman come to fetch us already ...”
    She was right. It wasn’t a footman at all, but a maid, who smiled sweetly when Isabella opened the door and bobbed a polite curtsy.
    “Bonjour, mademoiselle.
I have been sent to bring this to you.”
    A swathe of deep green was draped over her arms.
    “Oh, ’tis lovely, but I think you must have the wrong room. Much as I wish differently, I’m afraid that does not belong to me.”
    But the maid only stepped around her and came into the room.
“Mais oui, mademoiselle.
This is the room. And you are the very lady the gentleman described.”
    “Gentleman?”
    “Oui, mademoiselle.
He asked that I give you this note.” Isabella took the folded parchment from the girl and turned to read it in the light of the wall sconce.
     
    My Dear Mademoiselle,
    Minette is at your disposal to assist you with your coiffure and your gown. Though time would not permit me to procure you a fitting court gown, this jupe gown and Minette’s expertise with the needle and thread should do the trick for supper this evening. She is in the employ of one of the palace’s most respected modistes. Please accept this small gesture. It is the least I can do in return for the kindnesses shown me by your sister when I, too, was in desperate need.
    Yours, C. E. S.
     
    When she looked up again, Isabella saw that the maid, Minette, had draped the skirt over the back of the chair for Isabella to see.
    It really was beautiful. Made of a rich emerald green satin, the full petticoat skirt was figured with designs of seashells and dolphins in fine threads of gold and