Part 70 (1/2)
”You know as well as I do, she will be second to no one-now she feels her time has come. She will open the gates of h.e.l.l and rule chaos alone, as queen.”
La Trianon sighed. ”And she was always such a practical person-it's this mysticism thing. It gave her vision, you know. Who else could have dared dream that our profession could become so great? She created an empire with her dreams-but now...”
”Now they will destroy her,” I finished.
”More to the point, they will destroy us,” said La Trianon, getting up briskly from the table. ”If the police ever get hold of her ledgers, that's the end of me-and you, too, little marquise. I'm going to have a talk with her. There are safer ways of making money than feeding La Montespan's hopeless dreams of revenge.”
”But is there any better way of feeding Madame's itch for glory? That's your problem.” Glory, yes, I thought. But not just glory. This was La Voisin's revenge, a revenge so formless, black, and absolute that it could pull down the world, dragging us all with her into death. As I got up to leave, I felt my mind working like an overwound clock. Somehow, I had to get hold of my contract and the P volume of the Shadow Queen's ledgers. Without them, no matter where I fled or how I changed my name and appearance, I might someday go to the door to find Desgrez standing there. Where couldn't he follow me? Only the New World, I sighed to myself. But then I thought of music, the theatre, my books. How could I ever live among savages, even if I had a taste for it? Ah, me, better the savages that I know than the ones I don't. One thing was sure: I couldn't tell Florent. The knowledge of what was in the ledgers would make the magic leave his eyes. He'd see me as I really was. If I told him about the ledgers and what was in them, he'd abandon me.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
”Pretty bird! Clever Lorito! Awk!” Grandmother's parrot paced up and down, inspecting himself in his New Year's gift: a little mirror attached to the end of his perch. Trust d'Urbec to know what a bird would like for a present. He had come back so laden with good things from his latest trip abroad that even Astaroth had vanished for several days after Sylvie had tried on the pretty new cap with silk ribbons on it.
”Florent, since you've returned, that bird has become as vain as a peac.o.c.k! Aren't you even ashamed, for having corrupted him so?”
”Vain bird. Pretty bird,” announced the parrot, preening before the mirror.
Still in his dressing gown, with his feet propped up in front of him on a footstool, d'Urbec set down his cup on the table beside him and looked up at the parrot with a self-satisfied, proprietary air. ”Parrots and lapdogs-they can't resist me. Only cats and I have difficulties. Don't you find that significant?”
”Do you mean that's why you and Madame can't stand each other? I think it's more than cats. And you still haven't told me why she had you thrown out of her house right in front of Madame de Poulaillon.”
”I was hoping you wouldn't hear about it. That shows I should never underestimate you.”
”I want to know, Florent. I need to know just in case I get any strange gifts. Perfumed gloves, for example, or a bottle of wine. And you might have to send your s.h.i.+rts to another laundress.”
”Oh, don't worry so. I just showed her my hand, is all. I tried to buy out your contract. You'd think she'd want to sell it; after all, the value has declined recently. But then, she does blame me. She refused, and there was quite a scene. She warned me I'd better not be entertaining any notion of marrying you. But I talked legalities until my mission was accomplished. She got the contract out to show me that it was legitimate. And I found out where it was kept.”
”Florent,” I said, shocked, ”for G.o.d's sake, don't try to break in to get it-it's worth your life. It's bad enough that she thinks we are having an affair.”
”Sylvie, more chocolate please-the first was excellent.” D'Urbec gave the order nonchalantly and, as she left the room, signaled caution. ”Now,” he said quietly, ”you will have to take it on faith that I can outwit the Shadow Queen. If I can fool Desgrez and those police hounds and get you beyond the ramparts of Paris, I can certainly retrieve a few papers.”
”Florent, I beg you, don't do rash things-it's not important.”
”On the contrary, it's quite important-and you know it. It is the only written connection between you and La Voisin. The rest is all rumor. Half of Paris has been to her house, and even La Reynie will not track down half of Paris. I want the contract, and I want the ledger I saw on the shelf above it-the one labeled P.” I was horrified. How could he love me anymore if he saw what was in it?
”You know about the ledger?” I gasped.
”It's my business to know things that might lead to losing you forever, Genevieve. I have waited too long to lose everything.”
”But see here; it can't be urgent. La Bosse and La Vigoreux were taken over a month ago, and they haven't even bothered Madame, or any of hers. It's like when they took the Chevalier de Vanens for false coining two years ago. They found he was a poisoner, but it went no further. The cloud pa.s.ses, Florent. It would be better to sell my paintings than waste time trying to get your hands on a book she won't give up.” Florent nodded, and I thought he'd forgotten.
February pa.s.sed, and even though the first winds of March were raw, one could feel a hint of spring in the air. Not long, not long, said the wind, and soon there will be flowers, and fish will be banished to its proper place of exile on the menu. Florent was progressing handsomely with the sale of my paintings, which I did regret, and with the disposal of a rather large and heavy sideboard which had no more purpose since it no longer contained silver plate.
Late one morning, when my only client had departed, I noticed Sylvie dusting and humming. It was a salutary change. Astaroth didn't like dusting because he refused to bend over.
”Sylvie, you are very cheerful this morning. Where's Astaroth?”
”Astaroth? Oh, he's gone off to visit his family.”