Free Before Versailles by Karleen Koen

them gold coins or marriage contracts, Fanny held out wads of silver gauze ribbons. “Let’s sit down and make shoulder knots. These match the gown Madame has chosen. We’ll be like the musketeers, marked by what we wear as hers. Madame loved the idea.”
    Fanny is so clever, thought Louise, as she began to cut and knot the ends of ribbons. One had only to look at her to see it. One could literally see thoughts passing through her head, or at least Louise could. She depended on her friend’s cleverness. It had gotten them out of more than one scrape in the Orléans household.
    Part of the largesse of a maid of honor’s position was a small stipend, but more than that, the opportunity to meet all the eligible men of the kingdom, not just the ones parents might deem suitable. To be selected a maid of honor was no small thing. It gave a well-born girl extra cachet, made her interesting even when her dowry for marriage wasn’t. Of course, Cousin Choisy had been so helpful, teaching her a more graceful curtsy, he and his mother explaining the intricacies of who at court deserved a deep curtsy and who did not. Now you be on your mettle, he warned, shaking a finger at her, because the men will attempt to seduce you. He’d tried to kiss her when he said this but he’d been dressed in a woman’s gown, so it was hard to take him very seriously. It really was a lot of fun to know that men thought you were pretty and said so. It was delicious, actually. Louise could see why the priests and nuns warned against pleasures of this world. They were—well—pleasant.
    She thought about that as they—Madeleine the snob among them ordering her maid to do the task—clustered ribbons into small masses in order to sew them to one shoulder of their gowns, their gowns just cupping the lovely rounds of their shoulders. Of course, there was a long discussion as to which shoulder, and somehow it was settled: the left, that being the one closest to the heart. Romantic.
    Ribbons in place, the four of them surveyed one another critically to see that each looked her best. The admiration for Madame, heady and delicious, unexpected and fantastic, had spilled over onto them—more good fortune for us, declared Fanny—and they wanted to make certain they kept it. From the moment of their arriving to serve the newly married Madame at Monsieur’s palace in Paris, there had been nothing but play. Monsieur loved festivity, and the princess he’d married had adapted at once as if she’d known it all her life.
    That sense of gaiety had traveled with them here to this palace with its grand gardens and nearby forest. There was something in the air at this place, along with the scent of summer’s opening roses and jasmine, something giddy and high-spirited, flirtatious and daring. There were balls or fêtes every evening as the May moon sometimes seemed close enough to touch in the night sky. During the day there were hunting and riding, and they went with Madame swimming in the river every day the sun shone. Afterward, there were promenades near the beautiful carp pond at the edge of one of the courtyards, as they waited for the queen to return from a visit to a nunnery or to wake from her nap.
    Afternoons were leisurely affairs. Talk was idle. They listened to one or another of the men play guitar. Sometimes the king played. He played wonderfully—wildly—Louise thought. He was beautiful in every way that Louise could see, but all the maids of honor thought that. Madame would sit in the shade on a rug under a tree, chattering to one and all, as courtier after courtier came to call on her. Her popularity was immense; it had swept through court like a storm. Madame was presenting a court ballet in July, and her maids of honor all had parts, and rehearsals were beginning. The head of an acting troupe of which Monsieur was patron was working with them so that they would perform better than anyone else. It was all too exciting. Louise felt as if she’d