But why the escape? I hope you are here to explain. She called for paper and pen, and asked me to write for her all that had occurred.
There’s no need for that, I said, as the maid entered the room. I didn’t know how to explain my voice, and any further pretense was unbearable. I wanted to be done with La Muette.
She stared, and now she was the one who momentarily seemed frightened.
I took a little pride in that, but only a little.
When I looked up again and met the Comtesse’s eyes, it was as if we were meeting for the first time.
Now we moved into opposite roles. I spoke and she listened.
I passed to her the list of the Empress’s gowns, such as I had been able to keep, and as she read it, I tried to think of what I would tell her.
When she finished, she set it down and said, Explain yourself. Tell me everything.
I did. I told her the story of being given one of the gowns and described it. I told her of how the seconds were not being given out as often and of the complaint of her ladies-in-waiting provoked by the Empress’s attending councils and the lack of invitations to tea. Then the recital, and the interest both the Princess Metternich and the Empress had in a talented young composer, and how I had found him alone in the imperial apartments before the series began. And then last was the tenor and his seduction of me, his game of the dresses, described as if we had no history at all.
I know my escape disappointed you, I said. And I am very sorry for the trouble it caused. But he meant to kidnap me that night. I escaped as he was taking me from the palace.
My dear, how incredible. She rested her chin on her hand. It is astonishing to even hear you speak, but it is all quite puzzling and intriguing. I have a question, given this tenor character who you say was intent on kidnapping you. Why did you not simply alert the guards?
I had no answer ready and fought to think of something.
And why, after eluding him in the dark, did you go to the station and not back to the palace?
I could not return, I managed to say.
Yes, why? What had you taken? Had you stolen something from her?
She pushed at the note as I stayed silent.
What did you steal? she asked. I’m guessing this coat. Or is it in the coat? Sewn into the linings? Somewhere else? What did you take? An earring, a brooch, a pearl?
I took nothing, I said softly, but I could not look at her, and at that, she leaned closer.
A girl like you, there are two reasons you leave your mistress. You either have stolen or you are in love. If you stole nothing, then it could only be love. Who is he, then, who are you in love with?
I finally met the terrible eyes full of anticipation, but still I could not speak. It had been a mistake to speak. I had been safer silent.
Tell me or be destroyed, she said. I will have you returned to the palace as a thief. Can you imagine yourself then? When they are done beating the truth from you, no man will ever look on you again except in horror. Who? Not the tenor, it would seem. What other he?
To say it seemed to be to destroy it, but to say nothing was to be destroyed.
This composer?
At this, she stood, walked over to me, and grabbed for my chin to make me face her. She held it fiercely, waiting for my hands to come down, waiting for my answer. The rings on her fingers against my chin made me wince, and I relented, nodded finally, and the tears I’d kept back until now began.
And now you have become so precious, she said, and let go.
She waved to her maid to bring me a handkerchief.
My girl, please. Now that we have the truth, no more crying. She waited as I calmed and dried my face.
It is time to speak of our little bargain. I’m sure you are anxious to be paid. You were much more attentive than I’d thought possible, but the result of leaving as you did is that you have brought me both more and less than I’d hoped for. Still, now that we have the truth from you, I feel the balance is in your favor, and I’m in your debt. So do not fear; I will not turn you in. But we must plan.
Thank you, I said, and then went to my knees before her. Please forgive me.
Come, this is ridiculous. Get up.
I stood carefully.
What is your name, then? What am I to call you? How long did you deceive the sisters about your voice? Are you even called Sidonie?
No, I said. Call me—call me . . .
Oh, it doesn’t matter, it will only confuse me. We will call you Sidonie a while longer. My driver here has a wife who lets rooms. He will take you where you are staying now, and you will remove anything you have in his presence. He will then take you to his wife’s, and we will install you there until we decide what the terms will be. Do not deceive him; do not try to elude him. Do not disappoint me again. He will return you here tomorrow and report to me on the contents of your room, and then we will have our parley.
I thanked her quietly, ashamed.