Chapter Four

I could not hear enough! The men had broached almost every subject regarding the Revolution and the New Republic. It had become very late, yet I could not seem to pull myself away from eavesdropping on this lively group of men. The conversation was turning now to party and the enemies thereof.

"Have you heard what Jean-Paul Marat has been saying? A sage et respectable vieillard indeed, he wanted the King dead just as much as the rest of those savages. He is the epitome of a red republican and I will not stand for him to denounce our party's influence or righteousness." The man speaking had a deep, quiet voice that I had trouble hearing over the din of the others. I strained my ears even more, trying even to quiet my own breathing so he would be clearer. "How are we to build a Roman Republic with demagogues like him flouncing about and getting the people of Paris in a tussle?" This Marat was a man I had never heard of! I could not help myself as I pulled the door open the smallest crack and peered into the room. A golden light shone over everything as the men pointed fingers at each other.

"Called us a bunch of lazy old men, he did," a large man with a dark beard added. "Yet he seems intent on causing problems, not fixing them. And what of the king's execution – he swayed the people in its favor just by printing the words that he is the only man that must die for the people's good!" He twirled his beard nervously with his left forefinger.

"And a lot more shall die because of it!" another man shouted over the voices.

Charlotte observed the faces in the crowd. Most were red and shone with heat of the conversation and the effects of the large amount of brandy that had been self-served.

"Yet Marat does not affiliate himself with any party." This time Dupperet spoke. He, unlike the others, looked quite calm and quite sober. "I think I best that we do not concern ourselves with him until he chooses a side." There were a few moments of silence, and the candles flickered lightly at the force of some unknown wind.

"I think you are underestimating the power of the press, my dear friend." I realized that Adrien DuPont, the man that had retrieved my bonnet for me earlier that day, had spoken. He was surveying the scene with an almost crude smirk. I squinted to get a better look at him.

"And what do you mean by that, Monsieur…?" Dupperet looked a bit venomous. This was truly exciting.

"DuPont; And what I mean is that even the most well equipped and trained army would hold no sway over a mass of citizen heartily devoted to 'a friend of the people.'"

"Are you insinuating that one man can influence an entire population? I find that hard to believe."

"I believe you hold too much faith in the French people, Dupperet."

There was a collective inhalation.

"How can you even consider yourself a Frenchman, DuPont, speaking like that?" Dupperet's countenance had dwindled some. "Who exactly are you supporting?"

DuPont smiled almost wickedly, "Why, the Girondist Party, of course."

Murmurs increased among the men in the room, and Dupperet spoke once more.

"Well, I think I've had enough of this for now, I shall take my leave." In a bit of a huff, but trying very hard to conceal it, Dupperet walked toward the back of the coffeehouse. I had found this whole conversation quite riveting and was watching the expressions on the faces of the other men as Dupperet left that I did not even think to wonder which door exactly he was going to be exiting.

Three seconds before he reached the door I was crouching by, I realized what was about to happen and sprung back around the corner. Unfortunately, I was not quick enough and was spotted by Dupperet as he entered the back room.

"Mademoiselle Corday!" he exclaimed, before hastily shutting the door behind him.

Though I was shocked to the point of subdued loquaciousness, a small thrill of excitement at being caught ran up my spine.

"Oh, Monsieur Dupperet, bonjour," I think my voice wavered only the tiniest bit.

"Charlotte, what on earth are you doing here? Do you realize how this appears? Most unladylike, for certainty. And you and me here alone, why the scandal that that would cause…"

"That's not something I'm too concerned with, Monsieur," I said, this was far more exciting than sitting at home in the parlor embroidering some god-forsaken bonnet.

"Of course it's not." Dupperet had taken on an almost resigned tone. "I knew from the moment I met you that hellfire itself could not keep you away from events like this."He smiled slightly. "I admire your perseverance, Charlotte."

I smiled back, "And I admire your ability to know a person so well after just one meeting."

Dupperet bowed magnificently, "Well Mademoiselle Liberty, would you like me to escort you home?"

I curtsied back, "I'd be delighted." Dupperet took my arm and led my out the back door and down the back alleys toward home. The moon waning yet still large enough to light us home.

"That Monsieur DuPont, do you know anything about him?" I asked as we skirted an icy patch.

"I'd only heard about him, and was surprised to find that he had turned up at the meeting. He has a long reputation of aligning himself with whatever party currently has the most power."

"What an awful man," I interjected. "The indecency! Why - it's an insult to the reputation of all French people!"

"He's not the only bad person wandering the world of French politics," Dupperet said.

"Like that Marat man, do you mean?"

"Yes, I'm not sure exactly how he will figure into the party's future. But it certainly seems like it would be in a position against us."

"But the Girondist party is the best the French have had for a long time! After the King and Queen certainly made a mess of our country…"

"You do not give the King and Queen enough credit, Charlotte. Sure, Louis XVI was in no way a smart or confident man – and his relationship with Queen Marie Antoinette did not help to boost his confidence nor his visage in the eyes of the people, but he had a good heart and the queen did what she could."

"I should say not! Marie Antoinette actions were atrociously indecent."

"It seems funny to hear you say that, Charlotte, considering you have no concern for the opinions of others."

"But I did not parade around a private doll house and waste the French people's money on trivial dresses and lavish jewelry. She knew country's funds were dwindling – and to insult the king's manhood by not even bedding with him! Why, had she remained faithful the country would have had more faith in their leader!" Realizing what she had said a second afterward, her cheeks heated.

"I think the monarchy was doomed whether or not they had a warm bed. The King made poor decisions in funding the revolution in America and his inability to hold court over the nobles." Dupperet caught her as she slipped on a patch of ice.

"I still think it was the monarchy's inability to rule effectively and the increasing amount of poverty that started all this."

"I believe you're right, but the question is: what will finish it?"

"You sound just like my books," I said, smiling at him as I loosened my grip on his arm.

"And is that a bad thing?" He asked me, looking down to my face.

"Well, I like to read books; I spend much more time around them than people. So, no, it is most certainly not a bad thing - in my view anyway."

"That's good as it is yours that I hold to the highest value," he commented. I blushed again – this would never do. I was strangely relieved yet somehow sad when my cousin's house came into view.

"Thank you very much for walking me home, Monsieur. Your kindness is indeed noted." I curtsied and held out my hand to him.

He laughed and kissed my outstretched hand, "Why yes, Charlotte, it has been a lovely evening." He bowed and I turned to leave.

"Take care while you break into your own house."

***

Whenever a ball was to take place, the ladies of Caen seemed to count down the minutes until its arrival. Especially since the beginning of the revolution, these types of social gatherings were often pushed aside as more and more news was brought in from Paris. But since the arrival of all the Girondist men as they sought refuge in the small city, the women were climbing over each other to set their daughters up with these strapping, 'politically powerful' men. At least that is what it seemed like to me.

Daphne had certainly spared not a second in her pursuit. No doubt, her mother was trying to get her married off before that 'wretched girl Charlotte' hitched herself - as if I was interested in being controlled and monitored by some husband anyway. Not that I prefer to quote Marie Antoinette instead of other – more significant – figures like Voltaire, but I say 'let them eat cake,' because I surely do not fancy any of it.

So when my cousin came loudly up the stairs a fortnight after I had "attended" the meeting to bang on my door telling me that we were all going into town to get some dresses fitted for the ball, I knew that the day would not be very enjoyable for me. So after forcing myself out of bed and a fantastic dream during which I stood over the people of Paris, the new red, white, and blue flag fluttering in my hands, I dressed and went downstairs to see my cousin and Eleanor already dressed to go out.

"Hurry, Charlotte!" Eleanor piped at me. She was always excited for outings like this. An enthusiast of sewing and fashion, these outings always piqued her interest - even if Cousin said that she was above the position of a seamstress. I figured that the way things were then changing, there was likely to be a decreased amount of class separation as time went on.

As we walked outside, I was pleased to discover that it was significantly warmer than it had been in the previous weeks. Though damp and cloudy, a certain warmth in the air was present and I basked in it. Winter had always been my least favorite time of the year, and that year had been no exception, especially with the unusual amount of snow we had experienced.

Town came into view and I was pleased to see that it was bustling with activity. More and more men from Paris seemed to have come and taken lodge in Caen and for that, I could not be happier.

"Michelle!" A sweet voice rose in greeting as we entered the square. The three of us turned to see Daphne, Amelie, and Madame Roux bustling toward us. Daphne was twirling a parasol and I resisted pointing out that it was not sunny at that moment. Madame Roux rushed forward and kissed my cousin on the cheek before doing the same to Eleanor and me. After we returned the greetings, Madame Roux began jabbering very quickly about the upcoming ball.

"… A perfect opportunity to be sure for our young women. In fact, that is exactly why we are here today, as a new dress is certainly in order for my girls. Why, we just stopped at Madame Fournier's and ordered the dresses made. A lovely gray we picked for my girl Daphne – absolutely stunning against her dark hair, certainly – and a peach for Amelie, such a shy thing she won't admit how beautiful she appeared in it?" The woman's banter was drifting in and out of my conscious mind as I watch dignified and political-looking men meeting and discussing something that seemed very important in the middle of the square. "… You know Amelie will be working with Madame Fournier soon, a prominent position to be sure."

My head whipped back around at those words and my eyes went quickly to Eleanor. Madame Fournier was known to take only one apprentice at a time, and she was getting on in age. Eleanor faced flickered for only a moment, but she quickly regained what appeared even to me (for I knew how much she valued Madame Fournier's work) sincere.

"Why, that's lovely, Amelie," Eleanor said graciously, "What an honor. I'm sure you will learn so much from her."

"Thank you, Eleanor," Amelie said, her eyes fixed to the cobblestones beneath her slipper-clad feet. "I'm sure I will."

We parted soon after that, moving quickly away. I could clearly understand the crumbling look that graced Eleanor's kind face.

Cousin was trying to make better of the situation, "Madame Fournier does not know what a liability Amelie will be. She needs someone with more than half a brain. But she must have half a brain herself for not seeing what a help Eleanor could have been, I mean really!"

Eleanor did not say a word, her eyes were set straight forward, staring at the sign where my bonnet had been caught a few weeks before.

My cousin continued, "I believe her dresses are not even that marvelous, either! I mean, I do not know what all the fuss is about! Her embroidery has always been sloppy and –"

I laid my hand on my cousin's arm when I saw the look on Eleanor's face, "Why don't we go around the corner to that other dress shop?"

I led the way to the shop I had ducked into in order to avoid Monsieur DuPont. This time, I took a few minutes to observe to quaint place. The walls were a light blue, the wooden floor painted white, giving the whole place an airy, summery feel even in the midst of winter. Muslin of all colors and weaves were stacked on shelves lining most of the back and left walls while dress patterns and designs were displayed on the floor. Brigitte was once more behind the counter, stitching a tear in a petticoat.

"Brigitte!" I greeted her gaily. She looked up and it was only a moment before recognition appeared on her face. She rose quickly and came around to greet my family and me. She was modestly dressed but it did not hide her beauty as her white-blonde curls hung around her soft face.

"Why, Charlotte, I wasn't expecting to see you! Not running from dashing men again, are we?" My cousin made a strange noise in her throat but I chose to ignore it.

"We're actually shopping for dresses for the ball and thought this would be a marvelous place to come." I quickly introduced my cousin and sister.

She smiled at me, "It is so nice to meet all of you. Well, we have plenty to choose from; we just got a whole stock of muslin in yesterday - so many colors! I just couldn't resist a cranberry-colored piece for my own dress."

I perked up happily, "I was so hoping you would be attending!"

"Yes, my husband and I will be there, along with our new daughter."

"I had no idea you were married!" I said.

"Two years next November. But enough about me – do any of you see and patterns you like?"

We spent the rest of the afternoon in Brigitte's shop. Brigitte was very friendly and soon she and Eleanor had begun a deep discussion about the latest styles and methods of seamstressing as she showed her around the store. After my cousin, my sister, and I had picked out our dresses and materials and had ordered them I approached Brigitte once more.

"Thank you so much for everything," I said to her, smiling. I truly was grateful for all things she had done for me the past few weeks. "Eleanor loved coming especially, I'm sure."

"She seemed to know quite a lot about sewing," she added, watching as Eleanor fingered a dress on one of the displays in front of the window.

"She's wanted to be a seamstress for quite a while," I said. "She just hasn't had the right opportunity yet." I knew I was pushing it, but I felt that this would be a perfect place for Eleanor.

Brigitte smiled at me, "I know what you're doing." I widened my eyes but her grin said that she was more pleased than angry. "I'd love to have her around to help me out, especially before the summer season as that is always the busiest time for me."

I could have hugged her then. "You don't know how much that would mean to her."

"Just next time I'm running from a dashing man, you have to hide me." I laughed with her. "I'll discuss it with her at the ball so she can start right away."

We said our goodbyes then and my family and I exited the shop. I was bursting with excitement to tell Eleanor. Brigitte's shop was much better than old Madame Fournier's and I knew she would do a good job in making Brigitte proud. Maybe Eleanor would have her own dress shop one day.

We got home and ate dinner and I found myself very tired after having been out late the night before and spending all day in town. I fell asleep to thoughts of the Revolution and the ball and the vague wondering a Dupperet would be there to ask me to dance.