The Oracle Glass Part 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The news from court had crowded the street outside my house with carriages and chairs. All morning I saw clients, and in the afternoon I made house calls in the more fas.h.i.+onable neighborhoods. That was when I visited women who were not allowed out of their houses, who feared to be seen at a fortune-teller's-women who were ill, or mad. But wealthy.

My last call of the day was on a new client, a stranger who lived in a little bijou town house in the chic new suburban district on the rue Vaugirard, on the way to Versailles. A maid met me in the street and showed me in by a secret back way, trembling slightly at my gloriously mysterious appearance. Another of those houses where a jealous man fears to let a wife receive visitors, I thought. I followed the maid upstairs to a high, airy bedchamber paneled in white and gold, with an elaborately carved marble chimney, rich hangings, and fabulous carpets. On the immense, crimson draped bed, a woman sat in elaborate negligee with her back to me, her golden hair piled high. In front of one of the windows, a parrot on a tall stand was busily cracking seeds. It looked a great deal like Grandmother's parrot.

"Awk!" exclaimed the parrot. "h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation! Fire and brimstone!" It sounded rather like Grandmother's parrot.

"Be quiet, you dreadful thing!" the woman said, and turned to look at me with red-rimmed eyes. It was Marie-Angelique.

"Oh, you've come at last. You, who have told so many the future, who have saved so many futures. Save mine, Madame, for I am the unhappiest woman in the world."

Silently, I put down my little case beside her dressing table and lifted my veil. She turned and stared a long time. "I know you," she said, looking puzzled. "My G.o.d, you look exactly like my dead sister. But she was twisted, and you are straight."

"Unlace this diabolical corset, and I would be twisted again, without a doubt, Marie-Angelique."

"Alive! Oh, I knew it; I always knew it!" She got up to embrace me, then hesitated.

"But just imagine being a hundred and fifty years old! I was quite taken in, as is all of Paris! You're ever so fas.h.i.+onable, you know. It establishes a person to have a fortune done by you-just like having the right dressmaker or embroiderer. How did you ever come to this?"

"Why, I studied, Sister-and I took up an apprentices.h.i.+p."

"Oh, Genevieve." She began to laugh. "How many sc.r.a.pes I've pulled you out of! And here's another of your pranks-No. I won't tell on you, and that's a promise." She put both her hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm's length to look me over and laughed to see me so odd. But then she sobered, and said, "You haven't been home? You haven't heard?"

"I've not been home since I fled that morning."

"Then you did flee. I always suspected that. It was when I saw those little books-the ones you always hid in the attic-were gone, that I thought you might have run away. And I never saw your dress among the clothing of the corpses hung on the hooks above the slabs. I even told the captain there, a Monsieur Desgrez, and he seemed very interested. And I just couldn't believe it was you, no matter what they said. The foot was wrong...I told the captain that, too. And I always believed I'd see you again. You're that way, you know-you always come back." We sat down together on the bed.

"But how did you come here, Marie-Angelique?" I asked. "Is it true what they say, the Duc de Vivonne himself is keeping you?" Marie-Angelique looked suddenly troubled.

"Oh, Genevieve, it is exactly like when Isabelle was kidnapped by the Sultan of Constantinople and found true love only at the expense of grief." She sighed. "And after I paid all the family's debts, too-or, rather, dear, lovely Monsieur de Vivonne did when I asked him." She shook her head sadly. "And to think I never understood. I have accursed beauty, Genevieve, just like the story. Accursed." She began to wipe away the tears with the back of her hand. "Did you know our brother, etienne, declared me dead and even had a funeral for me?" She sighed. "It's so bourgeois of him, it's just humiliating." She got up and began to pace the floor, wringing her hands.

"Sometimes Mother's maid sneaks away to see me. She says etienne called Mother a pander and has shut her up in Grandmother's room, just as if she were in prison. He says he'll wash away the stain in blood and a thousand other impertinences to Monsieur de Vivonne. He even sent him an insulting letter! At first, Monsieur de Vivonne just laughed and said if etienne were a man of the world, he'd be quiet and enjoy the advantages of a high connection. But then last week, when he had a little party of his friends and their lady friends in his box at the opera, right in the middle of Mademoiselle Lenoir's aria, I heard one of his friends laugh at him about the fuss etienne is making, and then he shot me such a sharp glance and said he was growing weary of the whole adventure. Now what will I do, Genevieve? I must know my future. None of my old friends will even speak to me...he doesn't want me to go visiting...he hasn't bought me even a new pair of shoes in the last month. Even Grandmother's parrot reproaches me-" and she sat down again beside me, dissolving into hysterical sobs.

"Sister, listen to me!" I said firmly. "Listen! Even with all of this, you are not in a totally bad situation. Strengthen your backbone! Even though you are not the maitresse en t.i.tre, you are still one of the mistresses of a wealthy man, one of the greatest lords in France. Did you ever imagine it would last for long, with the reputation that he has? Listen to me! You must act charming, demand jewels! h.o.a.rd his gifts against the day he discards you. Sell that silly gold snuffbox I see by the bed, those foolish knickknacks on your table, there, which I imagine you took instead of hard coin, and buy an annuity. Then you can become independent when you are old."

"But this is love, Genevieve. It's too sacred to treat like...something despicable."

"Don't be foolish, Sister. You are as beautiful as ever. Keep your eyes open. Maybe you'll find someone else."

"Oh, how could you imagine me so mercenary? That would make me a-Oh, where would I go? I'm afraid to set foot in the church. The angels, the saints, they reproach me. I can't take communion. If his love fades, I'll be cast out into the street...Who would have me? I'll die without his love..."

"You can always live with me, Marie-Angelique."

"You? And who supports you? Would he have me? Wouldn't you get jealous?"

"I support myself, Marie-Angelique, with my own earnings."

"How is that?" she asked. "With fortune-telling? Aren't you embarra.s.sed at how shameful it is? You have fallen, telling fortunes for a living."

"What is more shameful, Marie-Angelique? Sitting starving in a garret, waiting for a prince to come and rescue me as in a fairy story, or making my own living? It's a hard thing to know that I am the ugly stepsister and not Cinderella, but it has made me more realistic about my chances. There are no princes for me." But even as I spoke, the image of Andre Lamotte of the gallant mustachios came unbidden to my mind.

"Don't you want jewels? Children?" Marie-Angelique looked puzzled.

"I want to be my own person." My voice was truculent. Marie-Angelique smiled through her tears.

"Oh, Sister, you were always such a little savage. You've never understood what is expected of a girl-or a woman. But me, I've always wanted a home and children." She stood up and went to the parrot stand and put out her hand. The parrot climbed up her arm, making a soft gurgling sound, and nibbled at a curl that lay over her shoulder.

"And jewels," I said.

"I can't help it if I was brought up to like nice things. Weren't you brought up to like books written by dead Romans? Besides, silk feels better than muslin." She felt in her pocket for a sweet, which she offered the parrot.

"Oh, Marie-Angelique, you'll never change. Tell me, do you want me to read your fortune?"

"You? You can't. You must be fake."

"Not so, Sister. Do you remember when we visited the fortune-teller on the rue Beauregard and she had the little girl read in water? I saw the image, too. I have an unexplained gift. She found me on the Pont Neuf the day I disappeared and set me up in business." I stood to retrieve my satchel, laid it on the embroidered cus.h.i.+on that sat atop a gilded stool, and opened it.

"Just think, the money I've spent on astrologers and fortune-tellers..." She shook her head in amazement. I set up the gla.s.s on her dressing table; an image came up promptly.

"Why, Marie-Angelique-I see you pregnant! You look very pretty, too. Your hair is hanging all down your back. Yes, you'll be expecting soon."

"Why, that's lovely!" she cried, clapping her hands with pleasure. "Monsieur de Vivonne will adore me; his love will return! And he'll provide for me better, and be kinder. Oh, what wonderful news! Tell me, is it a boy or a girl?"

I tried again. I saw the water in the little round gla.s.s vase turn blood red.

"The picture-It doesn't come. It's-it's too far in the future," I equivocated.

"Oh, who cares? Boy or girl, they're both good." Embracing each other, we took our leave: she swore to call for me again, and as I left I vowed to myself that this time, I would change the picture in the gla.s.s.

My little hired vinaigrette had been waiting in the street, the man in the shafts renewing himself for the long trip back across the river with a generous portion of cheap wine. By the time we had reached the widow Bailly's, the sun was almost gone. Before my door in the twilight a chair waited, the bearers resting, the occupant not yet dismounted. As I alighted from the vinaigrette, a ponderous-looking man in a legal gown and plain linen bands stepped from the chair.

"Madame de Morville? Permit me to present myself. I am Monsieur Geniers, conseiller au parlement, and I have come to request a private audience with you." He bowed deeply and handed me a sealed note. I opened it and saw the familiar handwriting of the green ledgers.

Admit this man. Hear him out. He is your vengeance.

La Voisin

"Come in," I said, as the door was opened from within. The ponderous man with the large nose and heavy dark wig followed me upstairs to my room. I motioned him to sit opposite me in the big armchair before the fireplace.

"Madame, I am a man in deep distress. To make a very long story short, I married a younger wife whom I adored, and who professed to love me. But I find she has betrayed me with an adventurer called the Chevalier de Saint-Laurent." He paused and sighed deeply.

My uncle. "And...?" I prompted him, my voice showing no sign of my emotion.

"I am only a man of law, Madame, successful enough in my own way, but I do not have the rank and favor to risk calling him out. And besides, I am no swordsman. I am old. And a laughingstock. My daughter's nurse told me there was a woman in the rue Beauregard who had means to relieve my distress. So I went to see the famous devineresse, though I felt like a fool for doing so. The sorceress offered me a powder to regain my wife's love. But when I asked for-you understand-stronger stuff, she laughed. 'Why risk yourself to take a seducer's life?' she asked. 'A slow-brewed vengeance is enjoyed best.' Through her magic arts she had discovered that the Comte de Marsan holds the Chevalier de Saint-Laurent's gambling debts. He is currently pressed by his own creditors and is willing to sell the chevalier's note-of-hand for half its value-five thousand louis, for he knows the chevalier can never raise the money. 'Purchase the note,' she said, 'and put him in debtors' prison with the rats, where he'll never escape. Think of the prolonged pleasure you can have, letting him starve slowly in the dark.' 'Five thousand louis?' I told her. 'That is a fortune. I could hardly raise half that sum.' But the fortune-teller told me, 'I know a woman who has no love lost for the chevalier. She will provide the other half, providing you keep her name secret and her honor safe.' So here I am, Madame, with my proposition. a.s.sist me, and he will never see the light of day again. That I swear."

"If you swear it, I will a.s.sist you. I can raise that sum. But only on one condition."