“What a fortunate peacock.” He closed his eyes, and opened them; his long eyelashes brushed against his cheeks.
The gondolier, a fine tenor, held a high note till the bow of his boat touched the island. Marie-Josèphe applauded him; he bowed. Lorraine tossed him a gold piece. The passengers disembarked onto the heavy planks of the island. Lorraine took Marie-Josèphe’s arm and helped her onto the platform. Nearby, in the galley, the rowers gasped for breath. Loincloths and chains hid their nakedness. They glistened with sweat and blood. Lorraine hurried her past them, out of hearing of their groans as their salty sweat stung deep welts.
A fairyland of delicate gold archways and tall spires distracted the guests. Sprays of crystal dispersed the light of a thousand candles in colors across drifts and wreaths of flowers. The chamber orchestra’s music filled the perfumed air. The island was wonderful. Yesterday it had not even existed.
“You must have some wine,” Lorraine said.
At the edge of the island, sprites walked on water, carrying trays of wine and baskets of sweets. The supports of the island lay just beneath the Canal’s surface, invisible bridges for the servants in their costumes. Lorraine fetched Marie-Josèphe a glass of wine.
“Is this your third? Or fourth?”
Marie-Josèphe laughed. “Oh, sir — I’ve lost count.”
They passed beneath an arbor. Moss lay soft under their feet. Lotte plucked a strawberry from the trailing vines and ate half. Red juice shining on her mouth, she gave the other half to Marie-Josèphe. She crushed its sweetness between her teeth. Lotte brushed her fingertip across Marie-Josèphe’s lips.
“You wear hardly any powder or rouge,” she said. “There, now your lips aren’t quite so pale.” She picked another strawberry and gave it to her mother. Madame embraced her daughter and ate the strawberry. The arbors hung heavy with fruit and sweets tied with gold thread.
“Come along, my dear.”
Monsieur took Lorraine’s free arm. Lorraine bent to kiss Monsieur quickly on the lips.
“Rumor says, our friends plan games in a hidden bower.” Monsieur’s manner excluded Marie-Josèphe; his troubled gaze hesitated on her face, then returned to Lorraine. “You must allow me retribution, after what you did to me last night.”
“It will be my entire pleasure — to gamble with you, Monsieur.” Lorraine’s manner grew formal, and he bowed.
Monsieur and his family and Marie-Josèphe all followed Lorraine’s lead in saluting His Majesty. The King approached, smiling, accompanied by Mme de Maintenon, M. du Maine, Mme de Chartres, and her friend Mlle d’Armagnac. Mme de Chartres wore a towering fontanges, but Mlle d’Armagnac went against the mode in an even more extreme fashion than Marie-Josèphe. She wore as a headdress a great fan of peacock feathers.
Marie-Josèphe wondered where Count Lucien had got to; she always expected to see him, when she saw the King.
“Good evening, my brother,” Louis said.
“Good evening, sir.” Monsieur and the King smiled at each other, despite the ceremony with which they always spoke.
“Mlle de la Croix.” His Majesty raised her gently. “The image of your mother! Ah, my dear, how glad I am that you are safe in France.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” She returned his smile. Despite the loss of his upper teeth, he maintained the charisma of his youth, and added to it the refinement of age. He patted Marie-Josèphe’s cheek.
“Your floating island is delightful,” Monsieur said.
“A pleasant little thing, is it not? Brother, I require your knowledge. Who’s the most passionate man at my gathering tonight?”
Monsieur hesitated, but his glance touched Lorraine.
“Chrétien has declined to be entered in the race,” the King said.
“Why, Your Majesty? Because he won’t go to sea?” Lorraine’s gesture encompassed the floating island.
His Majesty chuckled. “No, no, perhaps because it would be an unfair competition.
M. du Maine is passionate — aren’t you, dear boy?” The King patted his natural son’s shoulder. “But you reserve your passion for your wife!”
“I must suggest Father de la Croix,” Mme Lucifer said.
“No, no, no, he’s eliminated on any number of grounds. Besides, he must dedicate his passion to God.”
Monsieur finally added a word to the conversation. “You shall choose, sir, as your decision must be correct.”
“I know who you’d choose, if your natural modesty didn’t restrain you.” Louis spoke without irony. “Your advice is most valuable. Now, come along, I must give over to James my command of the ocean.”