“Messieurs,” she said softly but with some slight force.
They both nodded to her.
“I very much enjoyed Didon, Monsieur Marmontel. My father took me to see it at the Paris Opera,” Sophie said to the older gentleman.
Marmontel smiled at the beautiful young woman and the mention of his musical tragedy, in which he had supplied the words to Niccolo Piccinni’s music.
“Thank you, my dear,” Marmontel said, warming to Sophie. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
Madame Necker smiled as she saw the two men take a sudden interest in Sophie. They would soon see her intelligence and worth, as she had done. Though Madame Necker did not realize it, Jean Pierre had spoken to her husband on several occasions about his daughter. She had not attended a salon gathering before, but her father was extremely proud of her and wanted her to partake of whatever Paris society had to offer.
Madame Necker moved to sit across from the two gentlemen and Sophie sat beside her as the hostess smoothed the lime green silk of her skirt and glanced at the men. Sophie noticed that the woman was dressed exquisitely, with her hair delicately powdered and a small amount of rouge on her cheeks and her lips. She exuded a sophisticated aura of refinement.
“What were you discussing before we interrupted?” Suzanne asked them politely.
La Harpe shrugged his shoulders and spoke lightly. “We were speaking of a new pamphlet circulating. That is all.”
Madame Necker brightened up at once. “Oh, yes? A new pamphlet? What is the subject?”
Pamphlets were produced in great quantity across France and printing establishments were many in Paris. The pamphlets ranged in topic from finance to public administration to essays on political concerns; many were anonymous, libelous and sometimes pornographic.
A new pamphlet circulating the streets was typical fodder for the salons, and Madame Necker was curious about its content.
“It appears that we have another bluestocking in our midst,” Marmontel replied as he sipped his favorite red wine.
“Oh yes? How do you know it is a bluestocking? Is she named on the pamphlet?” Suzanne asked.
Marmontel shook his head and turned his head slightly as several people entered the salon. He watched Madame Necker’s adult daughter Germaine enter with several men, one whom he recognized as the Duke of Dorset and the English ambassador to France. Several other younger men, not known to him, had joined them as well.
Germaine was educated and had attended many of her mother’s salon assemblies as a child. She was influenced by the intellectuals who frequented the meetings and had become a writer herself. Marmontel watched Madame Necker and Germaine exchange a smile and returned to the conversation.
“I think from the tone of the pamphlet it is quite obvious it is written by a woman, and the author’s name itself is a joke,” he said.
La Harpe, who had been quiet until now, nodded to his friend and smiled. “Indeed.”
“I’m intrigued, my friend,” Madame Necker replied. “Pray tell us the name and the pamphlet’s contents.”
Sophie was only half listening to the conversation as she surveyed the salon and its people. Men and women were in small groups throughout the large salon room and everyone was dressed in their finest silks and satins.
Some women, including her grandmother, did not seem at all interested in their surroundings and even seemed to snub the salon. Others, like her father, were engrossed in conversation; a small group of men was speaking heatedly about some topic unknown to her.
“It was of women’s rights,” Marmontel began.
“Yes?” Madame Necker said excitedly.
A new pamphlet always generated a certain amount of buzz in the Paris salons.
“It discussed women and their only expectations—to give birth and marry,” he finished.
“I trust not in that order,” La Harpe said drily.
Madame Necker ignored him. “How exciting!”
“She also touched on the subject of education and women,” La Harpe supplied.
Madame Necker smiled brightly. This was a subject dear to her heart as she had ensured her own daughter Germaine was educated. At that moment, Germaine herself joined their foursome after overhearing much of their discussion.
“Are you speaking of the new pamphlet by Jean Inconnu?” Germaine asked.
Sophie was jerked out of her reverie of people-watching as the younger woman joined them. ”What?”
Marmontel smiled at the mention of the author’s name. “Exactly, Mademoiselle Germaine. Need I say more, Madame Necker? Jean Inconnu? Jean Unknown? Come now.”
Madame Necker had to admit that a pamphlet written about women’s rights and education and signed “Jean Unknown” did not sound like a man. It sounded like a woman who wanted to write and do so anonymously.