The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette (24 page)

'I care not for your opinions on the matter, Mimi, nor your's, Elizabeth,' Joseph retorted sharply, bringing his hand down hard on the table and spilling some of his wine across the white damask tablecloth. 'Neither of you have any right to comment. The decision has been made – Antonia is to go to France and that is an end to it.'

My hands were shaking as I threw my napkin on top of my plate then stood up, pushing my chair back behind me. 'If you will excuse me, brother, I do not feel very well,' I murmured to Joseph, biting my lip hard as I tried not to cry in front of them all. 'I am sorry.'
 

I walked from the room with as much dignity as I could muster but then as soon as the door was closed behind me, I gave in to the trembling and leaned for a moment against the white and gold panelling. The footmen had all scattered as I left the room and were now trying to look busy in order to pretend that they had not all been eavesdropping outside the door. They watched me covertly with a mixture of sympathy and curiosity and after a moment this not unfriendly scrutiny gave me the strength to put my shoulders back, dry my eyes and ask one of them to light my way with his candelabra back to my own apartment.

Tuesday, 31
st
October, afternoon.

Another parcel from Amélie, this time containing a large bottle of Neroli oil and some bars of lily soap. Underneath was tucked a short note and an engraving, both tied up with pink velvet ribbon.

'
My darling girl,

I thought that it might interest you to behold your fate. I truly hope that it does not leave you aghast and in utter despair. Personally I think he looks charming, even if he could possibly stand to lose some weight but he is young and I am sure that once he has a charming little wife to make himself handsome for, he will improve immeasurably. This was the best depiction that I could find, short of stealing the miniature that my husband has of him, which I may yet do if no one thinks to send you a portrait of your own soon. I am told, however, by those who are in a position to know such things that he is very tall, very strong and has blond hair and blue eyes. You shall have delightful babies, if you can bring yourself to contemplate such a thing. I am not sure that I can, so you have all of my sympathy if the idea makes you wail, tear out your hair and gnash your teeth in horror. I think that it is the thought of the dreadful fuss that Mama will inevitably make that I find most offputting of all. Do you know that already she writes to ask if I am in a delicate condition.

Has Karl returned to Vienna yet? I have written to him but alas there has been no reply. I fear that he is picqued. Perhaps he has transferred his attentions elsewhere? Write and let me know everything as soon as you can. Or perhaps not. I can't decide. Is it better to know or not?

Don't let our darling sisters bully you. Nor Mama either. I hear that she took you to Mariazell? What fun that must have been for you. Give each of our odious brothers a kiss from me and especially so if they look likely to resist and run away from your embrace. I miss them so much. Who would have thought it possible?
 

Your devoted and doting sister,

Amélie de Parme.
'

I picked up the engraving with trembling fingers and saw that it depicted a very young, rather
fleshy
young man with a high intelligent forehead, round cheeks, pouting lips and large clear eyes. He was not handsome but nor was he displeasing either; I could imagine myself being friends with him even if I could never bring myself to love him. '
Louis Auguste, Dauphin de France
' the inscription proudly declared in elaborate, swirly writing. I thought of poor Josephina, whose cousin the glamorous Dauphine had been his mother and I thought, just for a second, that I could see something of her in his eyes.

Louis Auguste. My fate.

Thursday, 2
nd
November, Hofburg.

I am fourteen. It feels very old but Joseph laughed at me when I said so and remarked that I should wait until I am as old as
he
is and then see how I feel. I had to be honest and admit that I can't possibly imagine being as old as him and he looked rather put out.

The day started as usual with a private breakfast with Mama, during which I drank hot chocolate and fielded innumerable questions about French history. She has developed a strange, frowning worried look whenever she happens to cast her gaze upon me, that I do not quite understand. I hope that they have not changed their minds about the marriage.

After breakfast we went together to one of the salons where my brothers and sisters were waiting to give me my presents, then Durfort came in with a great amount of fuss and preceded by a strong aroma of Lavender and Violet cologne to give me my gift from his master, the King of France: a gorgeous and enormous diamond ring, which Joseph slipped on to the third finger of my left hand while I blushed becomingly and everyone applauded.

'From this day forward my dearest daughter will no longer be known as Maria Antonia but as Marie Antoinette!' my mother announced loudly, her voice ringing out across the room. 'It is the dearest wish of King Louis of France and myself.'

Marie Antoinette. Everyone stared at me and mouthed the new and unfamiliar name. Marie Antoinette. Marie Antoinette.
 

I do not know if I will ever get used to it. It sounds so
French
and unfamiliar and not like me at all. I think that in my heart I will always be Antonia.

Monday, 6
th
November.

Marie Antoinette. Marie Antoinette. Marie Antoinette.

Wednesday, 15
th
November.

I went to see Durfort today and asked if it would be possible for me to take my ladies in waiting with me to France. I should have asked Mama and Joseph of course but I felt suddenly quite bold and decided to see Durfort himself.

I thought it quite a reasonable request but he stared at me in horror, his cheeks purpling with rage. 'No, it is quite impossible.'

I must admit that I had expected this. 'Why not? They are nobly born. What possible reason could there be for refusing to let them accompany me?' I came perilously close to stamping my feet.

Durfort recovered himself a little but could not help looking contemptuous. 'As Dauphine of France you will be expected to only have French attendants. It would not be suitable or acceptable for a Princess of France to surround herself with
foreigners
.' This last word was said with absolute revulsion. 'Your attendants may be perfectly adequate here in Vienna but they will not be at all suitable for Versailles.'

'You do not like us do you, Monsieur de Durfort?' I am still amazed that I said this but frankly what right has this awful, perfumed, nasty little man to be so critical of us and our ways? 'I have heard the way that you speak about my mother's court and the people that I care for and even about me and I want you to know that it displeases me very much.' And with this I turned on my heel and walked away as gracefully and unhurriedly as I could manage.

I hope he knows that he has made an enemy and I hope it frightens him.

 
Sunday, 3
rd
December, Advent Sunday, late.

How very different tonight was in comparison to all the jolly, happy Advent Sundays we have enjoyed in the past. On the surface, all was as it had always been with all the court gathering after dinner to watch me light the first twisted red and gold candle on the
Adventkrantz
and then feast on special cinnamon and nutmeg biscuits as the musicians struck up and Joseph and then Leopold led me out to dance. However, my heart ached for all who are absent this year and far from home.

Afterwards the footmen helped us into heavy fur cloaks and hats and we all ran outside into the snow and pelted each other with snow balls, giggling insanely as we slid about on the icy ground and breathed on our red hands to warm them up.
 

'You will miss this,' Joseph said to me in an undertone, as I came to stand beside him, my cheeks very pink and warm and my hair escaping in coils from its tight chignon.

I looked at him and smiled. 'Yes, of course but I am sure that the courtiers at Versailles know how to have fun as well.'

Joseph did not reply but simply looked sad and patted my cheek.

'Well, if they do not know to have fun then I shall have to show them, won't I?' I said with a defiant look. 'They really do sound like a disagreeable lot.'

Joseph laughed then and brought my hand to his lips for a kiss. 'That is always how I have regarded them, certainly. I believe that it was very different when Madame la Marquise de Pompadour was still alive but nowadays, ah, well...' He shook his head and would not say any more.

Tuesday, 18
th
December, afternoon, so tired.

There was the most enormous masked ball last night at Schönnbrunn. Joseph tells me that almost 4,000 people attended and I can well believe it as the rooms were so terribly crowded. Luckily it did not snow last night so the footmen were able to throw open the doors to the gardens so that people could don cloaks and stroll about the lawns when it became too hot inside to be quite comfortable.

Oh, I do love masked balls! I wore a gown of midnight blue velvet and silk, with gold and silver stars embroidered on the skirts and across the bodice. I even had matching diamond stars in my hair and decorating my blue velvet mask. Of course it was impossible for me to be incognito (which I would have loved above anything) as Mama insisted that I remain at her side all night and would only allow me to dance with my brothers. Such a shame.

I am so tired now though! We left the ball in the early hours and drove back to the Hofburg in the moonlight, which was excessively romantic even if I only had Clementina, Lucia and my brother Leopold for company.

Perhaps one day something truly romantic will happen to me? Is it very wrong to hope, just a little tiny bit for something so very lovely to happen to me?

Chapter Six

1770

Monday, 1
st
January 1770, New Year's Day.

And yet another year begins with champagne, schnapps, dancing and fireworks high up in the sky above Vienna. It is snowing now and I can hear the courtiers dashing on their clattering high heels around the corridors of the Hofburg, giving each other gifts and hallooing 'Prosit Neujahr!' at each other.

I feel oddly deflated and apprehensive about how this year will unfold for me, which is only natural I suppose.

Perhaps I should go back to bed for a bit.
 

Tuesday, 2
nd
January, morning.

I was not permitted to return to bed for my brother Joseph came to my rooms and informed me that little Theresia wanted me present at the puppet show that she has been working on for weeks. Of course I was delighted to accompany him and with Clementina, Anna and Anton following close behind we made our way to the nurseries, bumping into Durfort outside my
salon
door as we went. He looked highly embarrassed and stammered his way through a speech about how happy the French court are that this year will see me finally embraced to their bosom and other such nonsense. I nodded very coolly, much to Joseph's unashamed amusement and swept past.

'You know, you really should do your best not to alienate Durfort,' my brother whispered to me as we ran arm in arm up the stairs to Theresia's rooms upstairs. 'I know that he is utterly absurd in every possible way but he is still the envoy of the French King and you can be sure that he sends very full reports back to Versailles about you and your behaviour.'

I flushed scarlet, not having thought of this before. 'I did not know.'

Joseph smiled down at me and patted my hand consolingly. 'I am sure that all will be forgiven as soon as they set eyes upon you, my dearest one.'

We had reached the nurseries and went into the large white and pink
salon
, which had been set up as a miniature theatre with rows of gilt and crimson chairs arranged in front of a specially erected shallow stage upon which the puppet theatre stood. Theresia was waiting by the door to receive us and gave cries of delight as she hugged first her father and then myself before taking our hands and leading us to the very front, where Mama was already sitting with Christina on one side and Elizabeth on the other.

'I hope that you will like the play,' Theresia whispered to me, looking a little bit nervous. 'My governess wrote it and there are a great many long words!'

I laughed, instantly reminded of poor dear Countess Brandeis and her attempts to hoodwink Mama by writing my exercises for me in pencil so that I could trace over them in ink and pass them off as my own. 'I am sure that it will be wonderful,' I reassured her with a kiss.

I truth, it was terribly boring – a series of short vignettes illustrating memorable scenes from Mama's reign but Theresia looked so proud and relieved when it was all over that we all stood up and applauded her as though it had been a masterpiece. I squeezed Joseph's arm as he applauded, touched by how happy and proud he looked of his daughter.