She didn’t know what to think until Monsieur Blanche sent her a note saying he would take anything her cousin had written. No one could talk of anything else. She told him that he was in Germany and that she would forward his request.
“Sophie, what do you think?”
“Of?”
“Of? Of? Of your pamphlet! No one can talk about anything else! Are you pleased?”
“I’m not sure. I think I’m terrified more than anything else if my father ever finds out, and what he will do,” she said softly.
“He won’t. Only two people know the truth and we’ll never tell,” she assured her dear friend.
“I know,” Sophie said, smiling. “I’m not worried. I trust you and Marie more than anyone. It’s just that things seem uncertain in these times. I don’t want to be the cause of anything.”
Lizette frowned. Not an intellectual and preferring only novels, she was unaware of the unrest that was stirring in Paris and, indeed, France.
“How could it?” she asked. “A simple pamphlet on women and childbearing?” Lizette shook her head.
Sophie nodded, but couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a low smoke building in Paris and that her simple pamphlet had just lit the flame.
The fact that she would be leaving town at the end of the week to go to the country at Madame Necker’s invitation seemed like a godsend.
She would spend the days reading, basking in the sun and taking long walks with Germaine. At night she would converse with the men Madame Necker surrounded herself with and spar with the most intelligent men in France. Sophie was delighted at the prospect.
***
“Enjoy yourself, Sophie. Madame Necker thinks highly of you.” Jean Pierre kissed his daughter’s forehead as she settled into the carriage.
He smiled at his mother, who smiled back at him.
“We’ll be back before you have time to miss us,” Eugenie said tartly to her son.
The carriage ride was not very long before Eugenie and Sophie arrived at the country chateau, situated prettily along a green meadow surrounded by mature trees, with a small river running through the entire property.
Madame Necker greeted them herself dressed in a chemise a la reine. It was a style of dress also called “gaulle,” introduced by Queen Marie Antoinette. The gaulle was made of thin muslin loosely draped around the body and belted around the waist with a sash.
It was in sharp contrast to the silk and satin gowns worn in Paris by French society. Madame Necker looked younger and at peace in the woodland paradise.
“My dear Sophie,” she said, kissing her cheeks. She smiled genuinely at both women, but was quite taken with the younger of the pair, whom she admired; she wanted to nurture Sophie’s intelligence. “Madame Gauvreau,” she said in greeting to Eugenie as well and ushered them inside.
The chateau itself was large and old but the Neckers had spent a small fortune renovating it to receive guests and ensure it was modern, accommodating and outfitted with all one would expect in Paris.
“You are the first to arrive so you will have the pick of rooms,” she said to Sophie, smiling warmly.
“You are too kind, madame.” Sophie had taken a great liking to the older woman.
“Not at all. I will show you my favorite rooms and you and your grand-mère will make your choice.”
“May we have adjoining rooms?” Eugenie asked.
“Is that necessary, Grand-mère?” Sophie asked, irritated. She wondered what exactly her grandmother expected to happen in this country paradise. A ravishment at the hands of the elderly intellectual men?
Eugenie recalled her conversation with her son. Sophie was a grown woman. “No. Not if you don’t think it so.”
Sophie instantly felt remorse for treating her grandmother badly. “No. I’m sorry. If you would like adjoining rooms, then it will be as you wish.”
Eugenie smiled at the appeasement and backed down. “No. It is not necessary. You are a grown woman, after all, not a child. It was a foolish request.”
The women weaved in and out of several rooms as Madame Necker pointed out certain things about one room and then something else about another.
Sophie chose a room at the far end of one wing of the chateau. It overlooked the woodland trees and river and it was decorated in green, cream and rose, and reminded her of a cool Paris garden.
Her grandmother by chance chose a room in the opposite wing from her. She’d immediately liked the grandeur of the room, which was one of the largest, and the gold furniture was immaculately decorated. It was a decadent room and Madame Necker nodded.
“This room is one of the finest,” she concurred and Eugenie was smug in her acceptance. She had chosen wisely.