The Sheik's Son(11)

“My daughter had an engagement this morning that slipped her mind. Hopefully she will join us shortly,” Madame Necker explained, handing the first teacup and saucer to Eugenie, who placed it gently before her.

She handed another cup and saucer to Sophie and took the third for herself.

The maid entered the room again, carrying a large tray. From the tray she placed before the three ladies a plate filled with freshly baked scones, a dish of clotted cream, a dish of lemon curd, and three small plates, as well as linen napkins and knives.

“Please,” Madame Necker said, indicating the scones.

The scones were warm and Sophie placed one on a plate, slicing it in half and putting cream and lemon curd onto the baked item. She placed the napkin on her lap and bit into the warm scone. It was heavenly.

“I understand Monsieur Necker and my son are colleagues,” Eugenie began.

Though she understood her son held a position of esteem with the Ferme générale, she did not understand the intricacies of it and did not care to. Unlike her educated granddaughter, Eugenie preferred to remain ignorant and allow men, with what she considered their superior brains, to run France.

“Yes, that is so, Madame Gauvreau. My husband, as director general of finance, would be in contact with your son at the Ferme générale.”

Eugenie smiled at this thought. “Jacques and Jean Pierre are a great comfort to us, no?” she said as she took a warm scone.

Sophie finished her first scone and wished her grandmother would not pry.

Though Jacques benefitted greatly from his wife being a leading salonist in Paris, he also disliked the bluestocking authors she supported. It caused a rift between the couple, who saw things quite differently.

Though Madame Necker’s name was well known among the salons as an intellectual, she had founded a hospital in Paris called the Necker Hospital. Sophie knew that she was a woman who was devoted to those around her and was a stimulating influence. Sophie’s only wish was that she had been invited to tea alone. Perhaps then she might have turned the conversation back to her pamphlet.

Young, vivacious Germaine came into the room at that moment and kissed her mother on both cheeks, apologizing for her tardiness.

“It’s quite all right, my dear. We were just getting acquainted,” Madame Necker said to her daughter, pouring the fourth cup of tea as Germaine settled next to her mother on the couch.

“What were you talking about?” Germaine inquired of the small group. “Were you talking about that pamphlet?”

Eugenie blinked in complete ignorance while Madame Necker shook her head. “No. We were speaking of your father and Sophie’s father.”

Germaine waved a hand at the group. “Oh, bother them. A pamphlet written about women’s rights by a woman is much more interesting.”

Germaine was young but she was educated as her mother had seen fit and her mind was quick and bright.

“I thought you of all people would enjoy the pamphlet, Mère. Your salon is full of such intellectuals.”

“Well, we still don’t know for certain if the pamphlet was indeed written by a woman,” Madame Necker said as she sipped her tea.

“Of course we do. Jean Unknown and women’s rights? It is the work of a woman,” Germaine said firmly.

Eugenie was confused by the conversation. “What pamphlet is this?”

“One that everyone is talking about,” Madame Necker explained to the older woman.

“It’s about women’s rights and we think a woman wrote it,” Germaine said, smiling happily.

Eugenie sniffed. “How disgraceful.”

Germaine’s face fell. “Why is that?”

“My dear, women’s rights already exist. They have the sphere of the home and of the family. Everything else is the province of men,” Eugenie said.

Sophie shrank back in her seat. She had so enjoyed the time spent with the celebrated salonist. When her daughter had joined them and spoke of Sophie’s own pamphlet she had been soaring high above Paris. Now she felt nothing but deep shame and embarrassment at her grandmother’s old-fashioned views.

But Madame Necker did not seem embarrassed, only slightly amused. “My dear Eugenie, you are, of course, correct. Women’s rights are in the home.”

Eugenie nodded in their shared agreement.

“But things are changing. And I would not want to live all my time on this earth and not see change, for change is as natural as nature itself,” Madame Necker said, sipping the brown tea.

Eugenie frowned at her words.

“I was more than willing to make certain my daughter was educated. And she was. And I understand your son was also this way with Sophie,” Madame Necker continued.