Free Newton's Cannon by J. Gregory Keyes Page B

comfortably seated in the carriage before sitting next to her.
    “It happened that I was in Paris when the king sent his carriage for you,” Torcy explained, “and I begged for the pleasure of accompanying you to Versailles.”
    Adrienne looked down, wondering how Maintenon would have replied to that. “You are too kind,” she finally settled upon—perhaps the most conventional response possible.
    Outside, the dark and dreary streets of Paris passed, though they traveled in the pool of light cast by the sorcerous lantern that adorned the coach. She could make out faces, stroked briefly golden, watching them pass, and see the expressions of the Parisians as they recognized the king's coach. Some—the hungriest and meanest of them— scowled openly, though most expressed more controlled disapproval or, occasionally, awe. The general sentiment of Paris toward the king was one of brooding tolerance. After all, Louis almost refused to admit that the great city existed. But their ire sprang from the effects of decades of war. Even the splendor of the new era of science could not eclipse suffering and hunger. She understood that; though her family was counted among the nobility, they were also destitute,and as a child she had missed more than one meal. It had been Madame de Maintenon and the king who had saved her when they had accepted her family's petition to admit her to Saint Cyr at the age of seven. Saint Cyr only received girls whose families were both noble
and
impoverished.
    Most Parisians were impoverished, but few had noble blood. This gave them very little hope of ever gaining
anything
. To Adrienne this seemed dangerous. The king was wrong to ignore Paris, for in Paris he might see France; in Versailles he would only see himself.
    “How does Mademoiselle find the Academy of Sciences?” Torcy asked.
    “I am most content there,” she replied. “Everyone is kind to me, and my work is interesting. And, I must admit, I have enough leisure to devote to my own interests.”
    “And what might those be, my dear?” Torcy asked with a flicker of a smile. His eyes seemed almost on the verge of closing, as if her answer could hold no interest for him.
    “Music, predominantly,” she answered, “and also writing. I hope to compose a history of the academy someday.”
    “How very interesting,” Torcy exclaimed. “And how laudable. You are aware, then, that it was my uncle who was instrumental in founding the academy?”
    “But of course,” Adrienne said. “How could one not know that?”
    “You are too kind.” He turned to look at her. “You know,” he said, his tone still more than amiable, “that when the academy was founded, twelve
women
were nominated as members?”
    Of course I do
, she thought bitterly, but what she replied was, “No? Really?” She hoped she sounded convincingly surprised.
    The marquis smiled. “Those were different times,” he murmured. “Yet my uncle had a very high opinion of women: He believed that they were capable of scientific scholarship. Of course, none of them had their nominations confirmed, and none have been nominated since. But, as I said, those were different times.”
    “They must have been,” Adrienne agreed, flashing her ownbright smile. “But I wonder if women are truly suited to such endeavors. It does not seem complementary to our natures.”
    “Oh, but there are many who would disagree with you, my dear. In fact, I have always wondered why
you
chose to find a position in the king's library, when you might have taken the veil at Saint Cyr. Or rather, I wonder
how
it came to be that you were placed there.”
    A little chill stroked her heart. Did Torcy know about her and the others?
    Beneath the wheels of the carriage, stone pavement had given way to dirt, and the stench of the city was being replaced by the scents of the countryside. “I don't know, Monsieur,” she replied. “I had expressed my interest to Madame the queen before she passed