Page 63 of Lord Appleby's Gorgeous Imposter
My dear Mademoiselle de Massé,
I write hurriedly today to invite you to call upon me. I do this recognizing you may be preparing to leave Paris. The current political situation between our two countries certainly deteriorates. I do think it prudent you leave.
Before you go, however, I ask if you might spare me an hour of your time?
Might you visit me this morning at eleven o’clock? I realize the hour is soon and early for calls; however, time grows short for you here and I wish to be helpful.
Please reply at your earliest convenience.
Yours sincerely,
C
*
The countess livedon Île Saint-Louis in a very finehôtel particulierthat rumor said was purchased for her by the old Duc d’Orleans, her former patron and lover.
Viv stood in the foyer handing over her gloves and reticule to the lady’s majordom. He ushered her up the winding stairs to thefirst floor, and as she went, she marveled at the exquisite Carrara marble statues in the niches and the tapestries upon the curved walls. The bouquet wafting through the air at each bend of the stairs spoke of lemon and orange that stirred Viv’s senses and made her pine for rue du Four and what might have been had the mobs never gained power.
The butler showed her down the hall to the open double doors of a grand salon. The walls were a soft lime, the moldings of a lemon cream, while the overstuffed Rococo chairs were upholstered in bright emerald with tiny yellowfleurs-de-lysand the settees were in eye-popping amethyst. The colors stirred one to open one’s mouth and exclaim at the beauty. Of course, as the main drawing room of a lady of Society, the aura inspired one to conversation.
“Welcome, mademoiselle.” Countess Nugent walked toward Viv, one hand out, another on a cane.
“Thank you,” Viv said, smiling, taking the lady’s offered hand. “I am delighted to be here and honored at your invitation.”
“Please come sit down,ma petite.” The lady had a regal elegance to her stride, despite the cane, and a smile that could warm any stranger to become her most loyal friend. “I ordered for uspetit déjeuner. Forgive me for asking you to attend me at such an early hour. But I fear you and I need to discuss much, and do it quickly.”
She looked wearied, the lines around her green eyes denoting she was older than her forty-two years. She was exquisitely lovely, with naturally pale pink cheeks and cropped coal-black curls, all the fashion. She was a dramatic figure, tall and sensual, showing her bosom and long arms to perfection in a supple jade silk gown. In her oval face, the most expressive elements were her eyes and lips. But her eyes were dim with some recent sorrow and her mouth was thin with strain. She stood slightly stooped, leaning upon that cane.
The countess led them to the amethyst settees that faced each other. As she walked, the lady drilled her cane into the fine lime-colored carpet. “Do please be seated. I will serve you, if I may?”
“Please do.”
The lady sat and began to pile a plate with the delicacies of cold shrimp, tiny crepes, and glacé strawberries. “I apologize for my cane. I… Well, I have had a stressful family situation occur in the past days. The result is that I have been weakened by the madness. Unwell, truly, if the truth be told. There are too many unruly situations in our city, are there not?”
The countess blinked, as if trying to rally to some challenge and could not match her reputation as a renowned hostess of Parisianbeau monde. “I slept late this morning,” she rattled on as she handed over Viv’s plate. “I have not eaten yet this day, and I hoped you might like a few delicacies.”
The woman repeated herself. Whatever had happened to her, it had shaken her confidence. That made Viv doubly grateful for her help, even if she hated the delay in the pertinent conversation of Diane and Carmes. “I would be most happy to do so, Madame la Comtesse. I have heard your chef is a master at his work, and I am eager to try anything you put before me.”
“Good. I like a woman who admits to a strong appetite.” The countess cocked her head to one side. “I see you are no fainting flower.”
Viv managed a true smile—and found fun in the fact that she’d acquired that hunger assuaging Tate Cantrell’s. The countess would find amusement in that, if she knew.
“I have wanted to meet you, mademoiselle. I knew your father and your mother.”
Viv managed a polite nod at that. The lady had met Charmaine and Diane’s mother. Not her own. Her own mama had never ventured into Society after she became the vicomte’s lover.
“How wonderful, Madame le Comtesse.” Viv had to carry this off and hear about those she had lost. “Do you remember them well?”
“I do, indeed. My friend the Duc d’Orleans and your father were quite close for the last few years of their lives.”
How smoothly the lady spoke of the chaos in France during the beginning of the revolution.
“They were close. Orleans was fond of your father, credited him with many fine ideas to change the taxes and levy them less on the poor.”
“As I remember, yes, Papa was devoted to restructuring the burden of taxes.”
“A major cause of all the unrest, yes, it was.”
