The Secret Diary of a Princess a novel of Marie Antoinette (28 page)

‘I thank you.’ I stepped forward and took the box, wondering what embarrassing surprise lay within. ‘Your master is most kind to think of me.’ I opened the box to find a miniature of the Dauphin, this time dressed to impress in blue watered silk and covered with a plethora of sashes and decorations. ‘He looks very kind.’ I lifted out the miniature, which was surrounded by fine diamonds, and immediately pinned it to my dress, while a gentle ripple of applause passed through the assembled company.

The other page came forward with the painting, which Durfort uncovered with a great deal of flourish. As expected this portrait was also of my fiancé, this time dressed in crimson velvet with a blue sash tied across his broad chest. He looked handsome but kindly with sleepy blue eyes that gazed out upon the world almost apathetically, a big nose and a chin that was less decisive than I would have liked but would have to do.

‘May I hang this portrait in my room until it is time for me to leave?’ I asked with a pretty smile. ‘We have been betrothed for a long time now without having seen each other and I should like to have my future husband close to me during these final days in Vienna.’

My mother smiled her approval and rubbed her plump, white hands together. ‘Of course, of course.’ She came forward and looked at the Dauphin’s portrait, taking a pince nez from her jet embroidered reticule so as to examine him more thoroughly, this son in law that she might never meet. ‘Hm, I don’t think much of his chin,’ she murmured in an aside to Joseph, who peered closely then nodded. ‘This one is clearly not going to be a man of action and I fear that our little Antoinette will have trouble getting him to make decisions.’

Joseph shrugged and turned away. ‘So long as he is a man in the bedchamber, who cares if he is also a man in the salon?’

I blushed to hear them speak this way and made a great show of looking at the portrait so that Durfort would not think that I too was criticising the prince. ‘Thank you,’ I said, tracing the Dauphin’s painted and much maligned chin with my finger. ‘I think he looks very nice.’

Durfort bowed, his face expressionless. ‘There is also a letter, your Highness,’ he said, pulling a large white envelope from within his splendid coat. ‘Monsieur le Dauphin is keen to express his very true love and esteem towards you and hopes that you will look with favour upon his words.’ He handed me the letter, which was tied with silver ribbon and sealed with a large red seal in the shape of a dolphin.

‘Thank you.’ I held the letter awkwardly, unsure as to whether I was supposed to open it immediately or save it for later, when I was finally alone. It was a love letter after all, surely? I stared at my name ‘Antoinette‘ on the front, written in a flowing elegant hand that was alien to me but which would surely become more familiar with time. I imagined the prince sitting at his desk, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully inscribed the name of his future wife upon the ivory envelope. I wondered what he thought of me, so far away and yet so intimately linked.

‘I shall save it for later,’ I said shyly, not getting any guidance from my mother as to what to do now. ‘I do not think it seemly to open a love letter in public.’ There was laughter then and I saw that I had said just the right thing. Everyone knew that this match had been arranged, that it was a matter of state alone and that we had never so much as set eyes on each other but no one wanted to think about it. If they could pretend to themselves that the Dauphin and I were in love then so much the better for us all.

‘Ah,’ said my mother with what was almost a coquettish smile and wink at Durfort, ‘love is in the air.’

Tuesday, 17th April.

This afternoon I made my way with my ladies in waiting down the stairs to one of the huge state reception rooms of the Hofburg, there to stand before all of the court and renounce all claim to the Hapsburg inheritance of my ancestors. I felt very small and very young before them all, my hair covered with a heavy lace veil and my voice shaking and wavering as I solemnly repeated the oath that meant that myself, my husband and our future children would never lay claim to the Holy Roman Empire.

‘I, Marie Antoinette Josèphe Jeanne…’ I sounded like a child and my hand shook as I took the red feathered quill from Joseph and signed the huge document that was spread out on the table before me.

Afterwards I knelt before my mother so that my blue and gold taffeta skirts fell gracefully across the parquet and closed my eyes as she kissed my forehead, her lips cool and dry against my skin.

There is to be a huge supper and ball tonight at the Belvedere Palace to celebrate.

Wednesday, 18th April, early hours.

It is four o clock in the morning and we have only just arrived back at the Hofburg after tonight’s masked ball at the Belvedere Palace. I am absolutely exhausted and would like nothing better than to rest my head upon this desk and give myself up to the deepest, dreamiest sleep and yet, no, I feel that I must write it all down for who knows how much I will remember when I wake up again?

Joseph was very secretive about his party plans and so I had no idea what to expect until we arrived there in a great cavalcade of carriages in the evening. I was wearing a really lovely new dress of pink silk, sewn all over with diamonds and shimmering sequins and with gold lace on the cuffs, hem and bosom although you could not see all of it underneath the white silk domino that we were all told to wear, which is a shame. We were all wearing the same though and also white half masks, which Anna and Clementine were very excited about as they had never been to a masked ball before and were looking forward to flirting incognito with all of the young men.

Anyway, we arrived to find the palace, which is very lovely, all lit up with torches and thousands upon thousands of candles with footmen running here and there and the grounds swarming with thousands of people, all dressed in their finest clothes and hiding their identities behind the same plain masks and white silk cloaks. I clapped my hands together in glee when I first beheld them as they looked so romantic and mysterious, flitting between the statues and the trees like ghosts and chattering excitedly behind their fans. Everyone was being flirtatious and I saw several couples exchange lingering looks from behind their masks.

Joseph himself led me into supper, looking very dashing in diamond spangled black velvet and I think he must have admired me very much as I heard him say to Mama that if she could only find him a princess as pretty as me then he would consider marrying again immediately. How kind of him. Supper was delicious, although I was far too excited to eat much and had to be reminded to have some lobster and wine before I had finally had enough and jumped up from the table to dance, first with my sweet Max and next with Ferdinand, both of whom were dressed in crimson silk and eyeing up the ladies of the court with small magnifying glasses that hung from their gold embroidered waistcoats.

I was so happy and excited that I even managed to be pleasant to Christina and Elizabeth, even though they both looked very sour and disapproving as they watched the dancing from a special raised dais. ‘What a shocking rabble,’ I heard Elizabeth murmur to Christina behind her feathered fan. ‘I should be ashamed to behave in such a way.’ I longed to say that perhaps she would be happier if she would only forget such silly inhibitions and join in with the fun but did not know how to. If she and Christina are happy being such dull, priggish snobs then that is their problem isn’t it?

Oh, I danced and danced, first with this gentleman and then with that and everywhere I went I heard a murmur of ‘There she goes, Marie Antoinette, the Dauphine!’ as people moved aside to let me pass and pretended not to stare. Old courtiers who have known me all my life came up to take my hands and kiss them, while wishing me good fortune for the future. Everyone looks so happy for me and yet at the same time a trifle wary as if there is something wrong, something missing from this fairytale.

‘They do not want you to leave,’ my brother Joseph murmured as we danced together later on. ‘You are the loveliest of the Archduchesses after all and the pride of Vienna.’

‘That is too kind.’ I blushed underneath my mask. ‘They hardly know me.’

‘There is regret that you are leaving so soon after your debut into society.’ He smiled down at me, my kindly, wonderful brother. ‘The French have all the luck, it seems.’

I squeezed his hand, suddenly anxious. ‘You will come and visit me?’ I asked. ‘I do not think I could bear it if I were never to see any of you ever again.’

‘Of course.’ His smile was non-committal but I believed him nonetheless. I had to.

After this, Charlotte, Frederike, Clementina and I went into a billowing pink silk pavillion that had been erected beneath the trees to act as a refreshment tent and took hot chocolate and coffee with huge dollops of fresh cream on top while sitting at a dainty little table. The other girls giggled and gossiped about the gentlemen of the court, while I pretended to listen but instead looked around the other tables, committing it all to memory. And it was at that moment that I spotted him.

‘I can’t believe that it is almost your wedding day,’ Frederike said with a dreamy smile. ‘You must be so excited, Antoinette.’

‘Mm, yes, I suppose so.’ I smiled at her, but my mind was elsewhere. Where had he gone? ‘Yes, it is very exciting.’ Ah, there he was. ‘Please, excuse me.’ I stood up and, ignoring their open mouthed, confused stares, hurried towards him, my pink silk skirts rustling.

He smiled then, his delicious lips curling underneath the mask as the hazel eyes that I would know anywhere crinkled with amusement. ‘Your Highness.’

‘Karl.’ I gave him my hand and he raised it slowly to his lips, while I stared at him, reminding myself how much my sister Amalia had loved this man. How much she loved him still.

‘I did not mean to come,’ he said with a wry look. ‘I wanted to stay away.’

‘I am glad that you are here,’ I replied, suddenly breathless. ‘I am always pleased to see you.’ I knew that people were staring at us, but I did not care. Let them look. In two days I would be married and we might never be alone like this again.

‘You look very beautiful.’ Again that rueful smile. ‘I always knew that you would be exquisite.’

I stopped breathing. ‘Did you?’ Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Christina coming towards us and I knew that I had to be quick. ‘Will you be at the French Ambassador’s ball tomorrow night?’ I asked.

He nodded. ‘I shall see you there?’

‘Yes.’

Christina was upon us. ‘Antoinette, Mama is asking for you.’ She did not look at Karl, did not even so much acknowledge his bow. ‘The fireworks are about to begin and she would like you at her side for them as she knows how much they delight you.’

‘Of course.’ Joseph had spared no expense and tonight’s display was to be one of the greatest ever seen in Vienna, in all of Austria even. I did not want to miss it for anything. ‘I shall come with you now.’ I turned back towards Karl but he had already gone.

Wednesday, 18th April, evening.

We are about to leave for Durfort’s ball at the Liechtenstein Palace, which lies just outside Vienna. I must admit that I am terribly nervous about the whole affair as I have no idea what he has in store for us although Anna tells me that there are rumours all over Vienna that no expense has been spared and his party will outshine the Imperial ball last night. In which case I am glad that I am wearing a new Parisian gown of shimmering cream silk, covered all over with gold lace and sequins. I have tiny little diamond stars in my hair as well, which I think look très becoming. I did not get enough sleep after the party last night and so my maids have smoothed a little rouge on my cheeks to hide my paleness and make me look more awake and lively.

I can hear Mama asking where I am (I am writing this in the little closet behind her bedchamber, which is the only place that I can be entirely private now) so must go.

I hope that Karl is there. He said that he would be but that means nothing. I must remember Amalia and her feelings. She is far away though and need never know.

Oh, that makes it sound like I am planning some sort of wrong doing but I am not. Truly. He is my sister’s lover, not mine. I do not have a lover and do not think to have one.

They are shouting for me now. I must go.

Thursday, 19th April, early, my wedding day.

We have just got back from Durfort’s party and my goodness, it was magnificent! The exquisite Liechtenstein Palace lies just outside Vienna and as we approached in our long train of carriages, it soon became obvious that the entire building and the splendid gardens were lit up by the golden blaze of thousands upon thousands of torches and candles, all casting their light across the graceful parterres, the sweeping avenues and the beautiful statues that lined them. I have been there many times before, of course, but have never seen the palace looking quite so beautiful, so imposing as it did last night.

Durfort was waiting to greet us in one of the gorgeous, painted reception rooms on the ground floor, a benign and almost friendly smile fixed on his plump face and his beringed hands outstretched to welcome us in.

‘You are most welcome,’ he bowed low before me, his tight blue silk suit creaking ominously as he did so. ‘I hope that you will enjoy our small party in your honour.’

‘Small party indeed!’ Clementina hissed at me as we passed through to the music and light filled gardens, the feathers on our elaborate coiffures brushing in an alarming fashion against the pink and orange lanterns strung from the doorway as we did so. ‘If this is their idea of a small party…’