“Is that what this is, a proposal?”
“Yes.”
“An invitation to your wedding. Louis really does think he’s funny, doesn’t he?”
Auguste laughed a little and began fumbling around in his pockets. “I had everything perfectly planned out. I was going to bring you to the Orangerie and tell you how much I loved you. I was going to tell you that the best day of my life was the day we were reunited at the ball, and that I couldn’t bear to be apart from you for even another minute. I was going to mention how I told my father that if he didn’t accept my terms, he would have to banish me or throw me in the Bastille or execute me, because I wasn’t going to marry anyone but you.”
Auguste pulled a little wooden box out of his pocket and promptly dropped it on the ground. He lunged for it, but I was faster, his fingers brushing mine as I scooped it up and gripped it tightly in my hand. I knew what it was, but I couldn’t bring myself to open it.
“I was also going to mention that you were under no obligation to say yes,” Auguste said quickly. “I would never want to pressure you into doing anything that you didn’t want to do. Father’s decree isn’t a binding contract for you. If you were to say no, I would completely understand. This is all very sudden and not at all traditional. I know that. Father wouldn’t force you either. Not after everything you’ve been through.”
My palms were slick with sweat. It made opening the box a bit difficult, but I managed to get a firm grip on the lid and lifted it to reveal the contents. On a bed of red velvet lay a gold ring. It was a lovely, delicate thing. Not new, based on some spots of wear, but beautiful nonetheless. Tiny sapphires were studded all across the band. I loved it immediately.
The ring wasn’t perfectly circular. It was molded into the shape of two hands clutching a heart, a common design of rings intended to be given to a lover. Papa had given Maman a ring like this when they were courting. I’d seen it in her jewelry box and tried to wear it, but it slid right off my child-size finger. Maman had whisked it away before I lost it.
There was something inscribed on the ring. I lifted it from the box carefully and held it up to the light. Along the inside of the band the words My heart is yours were carved.
I looked back up at Auguste. He was so vulnerable in that moment. Every emotion he was feeling was written across his face. Love, fear, desire, anticipation. I could see them all. I felt them all.
“This is a beautiful ring. Where did you get it?”
“Madame de Maintenon. When she found out that I was planning to propose, she gave me the ring. It was a gift from my father. She wore it for years.”
“On the left-hand ring finger, yes? Over the vena amoris?”
“Did you . . . Do you want to put it on?” Auguste asked cautiously.
“But I haven’t actually been proposed to yet. I only heard about someone’s plans of how they wanted to propose, not the actual proposal.”
I smiled at the nervous, hopeful expression on Auguste’s face. I couldn’t stop smiling. I was so happy. So blissfully happy. And terribly afraid. My stomach still flip-flopped out a rhythm to match the thudding of my heart against my ribs. I had to grip the ring tightly so that it didn’t slip. I probably looked a little mad. Maybe I was a little mad. I certainly felt like I was spinning out of control.
“Are you sure you want me to propose?” Auguste asked the question as if he didn’t believe that I was serious. I suppose the expression on my face would give someone that impression.
“I wouldn’t ask you to go through with it if I wasn’t sure, Auguste. What kind of girl do you think I am?”
“If you married me, you wouldn’t be a princesse. My official title is duc. The highest you’ll ever be is a duchesse.”
“Oh,” I said, pretending to be disappointed.
His face fell, and I elbowed him with a laugh. “Auguste, I’ve never wanted to be a princesse! And I’ve worked as a maid.” I tapped my chin, remembering our etiquette lessons from a year ago. “Plus, if I’m a duchesse, I can finally sit down at the table when the king is there. I wouldn’t have to stand!”
But he still looked anxious. “I was serious when I said that my duties will keep us away from court for most of the year. Would you be all right with that?”
“Staying away from Versailles is just as much a boon for me as it is for you.”
“We’ll be together for the rest of our lives. Just us two. Well, until the children arrive,” he said, reddening again.
Children! We would have children. I thought of Maman and Papa and how happy we were. I could have a family with Auguste. The thought was so sweet, I could hardly believe it.
He cleared his throat. “I want to warn you—”
“Auguste, if you add on any more clarifications to this proposal, I’m going to go find Louis and ask him to reconsider marrying the Bavarian duchesse.”
Auguste laughed and shook his head sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be difficult. I’m just nervous.”
“I know. Me too.”
He held his palm out for the ring. I gave it to Auguste. As soon as it was in his hand, he climbed off the bench and got down on bended knee in front of me.
“Cendrillon, Lady de Louvois, I’ve loved you from the moment we met at the Orangerie. I can’t imagine my life without you. Would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”
I didn’t even need to think about the answer. It was ready to leave my mouth as soon as Auguste started his proposal. “Yes!”
“Yes?”
“One thousand times yes! You know I love you, you foolish boy!”
Auguste laughed as he slipped the ring onto my finger. I loved the sound of his laugh. I wanted to hear it for the rest of my life.
“Cruel woman, wounding me while I pour my heart out to you.”
“I thought you already knew how much I loved you. But if you need a reminder . . .”
I leaned down and silenced his doubts with my lips. Auguste wrapped his arms around my waist as he climbed back up onto the bench, pulling me onto his lap as he deepened the kiss. Each time we parted for air, I whispered a declaration of love against his mouth.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” he said when we caught our breath. He reached into the pockets of his coat once more.
“Another surprise?” I asked. But I gasped when I saw what it was.
He held in his hand my brocade slipper with the glass crystals. “You left it on the terrace. I found it that night, when I was looking for you. I’ve kept it all this time.”
I marveled at the exquisite slipper before me. A most precious gift from my beloved godmother. I had given it up for lost.