Elodie’s eyes scrutinized my face. She bit her lip but nodded and followed me into the Salon of Venus.
This night wasn’t at all what I’d anticipated, and at the moment I wished I’d stayed home.
Chapter Eight
A few weeks after my disastrous infiltration of the ball, Papa sat me down in our kitchen, his face serious but his eyes gleaming. “Cendrillon, sit with me for a minute. You’re always at your lessons or running about at the palace. I feel like I never get to talk to you anymore.”
I took a seat at the worn oak table that we brought from our old house: its sturdiness and finish polished by the years always made me feel safe. But yes, I had been distracted lately. I hadn’t seen Auguste since discovering he was the king’s son, and I’d spent a lot of time asking around the palace to find out where he was, so I suppose I had been neglecting Papa. Lady Françoise hadn’t been by to visit, so he must have been terribly lonely.
“Of course! Lessons have been taking up a lot of my time recently.”
“I understand. You’re growing up, becoming a lady of the court. My little girl will be leaving me soon enough.”
“I’m not leaving you,” I said, grabbing his hands and squeezing.
Papa patted my hands gently and smiled. His eyes were gleaming brightly, but they were also a bit red, and the dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than usual. A twinge of guilt needled at me. Was missing me upsetting him this much? Papa was always so busy with the king that I never thought he would notice.
“Yes, you will, and that’s the way it’s supposed to be. I’m not looking forward to it, but the day is coming when you’ll marry and move on. That’s partly the reason I want to speak with you. I’ve started making plans.”
I gripped his hands tighter. This conversation was making me uneasy.
“Plans? What kind of plans?”
“Plans for the eventuality of you leaving me. After your mother died . . . you were all I had. I don’t know if I would have made it through those first few months after she was gone without you.”
“Nor I you,” I said, trying very hard not to cry.
“Well, uh, yes, it’s true. You’ve been a blessing to me since the day you were born, but I can’t hold on to you forever. But I’m not the kind of man who does well alone either. Now I want you to know that I’m not replacing you—I’m just trying to ensure that I’m not hopelessly lonely when you’re all grown up and don’t need me anymore.”
Papa’s final words were rushed and a little breathless, and he looked at me with wide eyes, almost hesitant, as if he was afraid I would be angry with him.
“I don’t expect you to think of her as your mother. You’re far too old for that. But I want us to be a family.”
“A family?”
Papa cleared his throat. “I’ve been preparing this speech for ages, and I didn’t even tell you the most important part. I’m getting married, Cendrillon.”
My mouth dropped open, and I couldn’t muster the will to close it, no matter how uncouth it was. Married. Papa was getting married. When I saw him and Lady Françoise at the ball, gazing into each other’s eyes, I could tell they were in love, but I wasn’t sure anything would come of it. They’d been friends for so many years, after all.
I jumped out of seat and threw my arms around him.
“That’s wonderful, Papa! I’m so happy for you,” I said, my words muffled by the tears I wasn’t able to contain any longer.
Papa held me tightly and patted my back.
“Are you crying because you’re happy or sad?” he asked, a touch of worry in his voice.
“Happy! Absolutely happy! I love her already! You know that!”
“Good! That’s good. I thought you would be, but I wasn’t entirely sure. Lady Catherine will be thrilled that you’re taking this so well. It took some persuasion to bring her daughters around.”
I pulled back to look at him. “Excuse me? Lady Catherine? Wh-who is she?”
Papa laughed and said, “The woman I’m going to marry, of course. Lady Catherine Monvoisin. I’m so excited for you to meet her. And her daughters. You’ll have sisters! Won’t that be wonderful?”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything. Not when the words coming out of Papa’s mouth were completely incomprehensible.
“What about Lady Françoise?” I asked weakly.
“What about her?”
“Aren’t you two still . . . friends?”
“Of course we’re friends,” he said somewhat impatiently, checking his pocket watch in his waistcoat. “But I’m not sure what that has to do with my marriage to Catherine.”
Could I have misread the signals between Papa and Lady Françoise so badly? The way they danced together at the ball had been all but proof to me that they had feelings for each other. Friends didn’t gaze into each other’s eyes the way they did.
I managed to muster up enough conviction to ask, “When did you meet Lady Catherine?”
Papa was practically beaming as he said, “At the ball a few weeks ago.”
“Oh,” I said weakly.
“By the way, I saw you at the ball too! But I didn’t want to embarrass you. You’ll be out in society soon and will have no need to sneak into royal balls,” said Papa.
I was too rattled to realize Papa knew my secret. Instead I was still reeling from his news. “You’ve only known each other for a few weeks and you’re already getting married?” I said, my voice growing louder with each word.
I immediately regretted my tone when I saw the dejected look on Papa’s face. He looked crushed above his white linen cravat.
“I don’t mean to be unsupportive, Papa. I’m happy for you. I am. This is just all very sudden. I wasn’t expecting such . . . wonderful news.”
“I know, ma petite beauté. I know it’s sudden. It’s sudden for me too! But when I first talked to Catherine, she cast a spell on me. She felt it too—she said it was love at first sight. And at my age, I can’t afford to drag my feet.”
Papa looked so hopeful. Even though I was nearly sick with confusion, I couldn’t take that happiness away from him by being difficult.
“When is the wedding?” I asked, pasting a smile on my face.
“Well, that’s another thing,” he said with a wince. “It’s in two days.”