The Dark Countess

By Laura Gay

Paris, 1795.  Marie Thérèse Charlotte de Bourbon lives locked up between the walls of the Temple Tower, imprisoned by the French revolutionaries. She has seen all her relatives die, one after the other, and has been subjected to the most terrible humiliation: rape; she fears there's no way out for her when she is offered her freedom, in exchange for twelve prisoners of war.
On the same evening, while he's spending his time gambling and in the company of prostitutes, Leonardus Cornelius Van der Valck is visited by an Austrian nobleman who makes him an offer he cannot refuse: the Emperor himself has asked him to take his cousin, and sole survivor of the French royal family, under his custody. But there's a problem: the attractive and cunning libertine will have to marry the girl, who was made pregnant during her captivity.
Will such badly mismatched persons manage to trust each other? And will Charlotte be able to leave behind the trauma to which she was subjected and open up her heart to true love? Burning passions, rape, identity swaps and political intrigue follow one after the other, bringing to life a novel in which love and courage keep the reader company, page after page.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Babelcube Inc.
• Release date: Feb 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781547571239

Book preview

Language

Prologue

Paris, Temple Tower, September 1795

Charlotte opened her eyes, awoken suddenly by the sound of footsteps.

She hated to wake up in the middle of the night, gripped by anxiety or terror of every little whisper. She tried to calm the furious beating of her heart: she curved into a tense ball, leaning against the stone walls of her cell, squeezing the heavy woolen blanket around her.

She had lived locked up between those damp walls for almost three years, since she was arrested together with her family by French revolutionaries. Her quiet existence was only interrupted in order to make room for fear and pain. One by one, her dear ones had left this world: first her father, then her mother, her aunt Elizabeth and finally her beloved little brother, only ten years old. A tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly caught it on the sleeve of her gown. Once before she had owned elegant dresses, done by the best tailors in Paris with the most precious fabrics. How long gone were those days!

Sometimes it seemed to her that she thought of her previous life as a faraway dream, which existed only in her fantasy.

She heard again the sound of steps and her heart started beating faster. She tried to force her ears to figure out if the noise was getting closer, but her own heartbeat blocked all other sounds. She made herself breathe more regularly. The steps were approaching with a slowness that was unnerving and she began to notice her arms and legs were shaking. Terrified, she curled even more into a fetal position.

At that moment, the footsteps stopped.

Someone stopped in front of the heavy wooden door and she was shaken by the thought that they had come to get her.

She didn't want to die.

The door grated open with a painful screech. Charlotte held her breath, lifting her gaze up towards the figure in the shadowed doorway. A guard stole inside. He was a tall man, robust, with a slightly beaked nose.

What do you want? asked Charlotte, nearly whispering and jumping to her feet. Her blanket fell onto the grey stone floor, and a tremor shook her, completely unrelated to the temperature inside the tower.

The man moved towards her, his lips bent into a mysterious smile. He held her by the arm, piercing her with his eyes, a look on them like those of a ravenous beast.

Aren't you lonely in this cell? Would you like some company?

His breath reeked of wine. Charlotte tried to free herself from his grip, but the guard held her still, squeezing her wrist until it felt like it might snap. A cry of pain burned at her throat.

Let me go, I implore you!

You implore? said the man, amused. "The daughter of the late king implores me. It's almost funny."

Charlotte continued struggling, terrified. Those hungry eyes fixed on her were bewildering. She wanted to speak, to ask what he meant to do to her... but no words would come out of her.

He held up her chin, high enough to look into her eyes. You're a real beauty. Noble, chaste and untouchable. Out of reach for someone like me, right?

Charlotte started to shudder. She didn't understand what that man wanted from her, but whatever it was she was sure it was no good. Then he fixed his gaze on her bosom, revealed by the low neckline of her gown. He pressed her against the wall, pinning her hip under his.

Your fair skin arouses me he whispered, brushing her cheek with the back of his calloused hand. It's so pale... like that of a porcelain doll.

She gave a start, as if she had been slapped. That hand... was disgusting proof of what he was doing to her. She tried to fight him, but the guard's grip became harder.

Tell me, how old are you?

The question caught her by surprise. Se-seventeen, mister she stuttered confusedly.

Seventeen. You're old enough, then. Don't you wish you know the pleasure a man can give to a woman?

Charlotte shivered. She knew nothing of those things. She may have overheard some words, but the dynamics of intercourse remained a mystery to her. Anyway, she didn't think it possible to feel any pleasure. All she felt for that man, who pressed his sweaty body against hers, was disgust.

At that moment she felt something hard against her hip. She looked down, fearing he might be threatening her with a sword. But to her horror, she realised it was no sword.

She swallowed hard. I beg you...

The man yanked her, as he worked to untie her gown's laces. Save your prayers for the saints he chided her. At that moment Charlotte felt the cloth rip and those rough hands grabbed her breasts. She became rigidly still. She wanted to scream, but who would have come to help her in that prison? Since she had been incarcerated everyone mocked her. There was not even a trace of respect for her: she was an object of scorn and derision; obscene songs and all kind of insults were addressed to her.

She tried to push against him to free herself, but it was useless. He was too strong. At one point he slapped her hard enough to stun her.

Stay still! You'll like it, you'll see. You'll open up your legs for me like an ordinary slut. I'm dying to find out how a princess gets off.

Silent tears streamed down her face. It wasn't possible that they were doing this to her. Her virginity was the only thing of value left to her, they couldn't take even that, precious as it was to her.

No, please... no!

The man lifted her skirt, laughing coarsely. She saw him unbutton the fly of his trousers and pounce on her like an animal. After this, all that she felt was pain and humiliation. The guard violated her body with ever accelerating lunges. Charlotte screamed with all her strength, but the blows didn't cease. She had the feeling she was being ripped apart, deep inside, until her soul was pierced through.

Blood started running from between her legs, soiling her underwear. But at this point, what did it matter? She stayed motionless, with her eyes closed and filled with tears, while that monster finished what he had begun. She felt him shudder and spray his seed inside her. He then wiped himself with a strip of her gown and buttoned up his trousers, with a satisfied grin on his face.

Not too bad, princess. Maybe I can come back to you some other evening, what do you say?

Charlotte didn't answer. There was no strength left in her. She felt filthy in her heart and soul. She wanted to wash, to scrub her skin to the point of scraping, all the while knowing the pain she had experienced would not be cleansed by soap. It would torture her for all eternity.

A moment later she heard the door of the cell close behind her and she collapsed onto the floor. Her legs couldn't hold her up any more. She curled up against the wall once again, trying to cover herself with her hands.

In the end she cried. She cried all her tears away.

Chapter 1

Amsterdam, December 1795

Lonardus Cornelius Van der Valck was seated at a gambling table holding a cup of Madeira wine in one hand and a deck of cards in the other. He was used to spending his free time carousing with friends. Games of chance, easygoing women and big sums of money were his daily bread and butter. Anything to escape the boredom and uneasiness that burdened him.

It's your turn to deal out said an English baronet who was seating to his right.

Meanwhile, a dazzling, dusky beauty with lavish bosom and revealing décolletage had approached, swaying her hips to better display her wares.

In all likelihood, Leonardus would end up taking her to bed, after a few more cups and some good profit. He contemplated the idea with a smile.

Have no fear, Fairfax he replied to the baronet. The night is still young.

He stared briefly at the brunette and got ready to shuffle the cards when  he was interrupted by a man who held himself with sober elegance and aristocratic presence.

Mister Van der Valck? he asked cautiously.

Leonardo looked up and raised an eyebrow, curiously scanning the newcomer. He had a strong foreign accent. Being an experienced diplomat, he deduced an Austrian origin. He was sure he had never seen him before.

May I ask who I have the honour to address?

The stranger stopped at an arm's length and looked at him with impenetrable regard. He seemed to disapprove of the place and its licentious atmosphere. He must be a rather tedious type.

I am Count Brank, in the service of the Emperor of Austria.

And how can I help you, milord?

It is a private matter. If you would follow me to a more suitable place, I will shed light on the reasons for my presence here.

Leonardus tried hard not to giggle. If that man was planning to ruin his evening for him, he was grossly mistaken. Nothing and no one were going to pull him away from that gambling table and obliging lady.

And what makes you think I'm interested in learning such details? As you can see, I'm quite busy at this moment.

The Count straightened up. Evidently, he was not used to receiving rebuffs.

Is it possible that a substantial sum of money may augment your curiosity?

It is Leonardus granted. It depends on what you mean by substantial.

I have no time to waste, sir Brank retorted impatiently. Would you please follow me? I'm as eager as you to put an end to this conversation.

Leonardus excused himself with his gaming partners and stood up. He wanted everything to be done with soon enough to be able to come back to his friends and prodigal brown beauty. But he suspected that the business may be complicated and felt a sense of foreboding.

The count led the way to a private room – elegant clubs like this always had one – and waited for Van der Valck to enter before shutting the door closed with a snap.

So? he encouraged him, visibly impatient. What's this about?

It's a rather serious matter. It would be better for you to get comfortable.

Leonardus snorted. He sat on an elegant damasked sofa and waited for his interlocutor to have a seat too, before looking questioningly around.

At last, Brank started to speak: As you are well aware, a cousin of the Emperor has been held captive by the French revolutionaries...

Get to the point, milord. I have no intention of spending the entire evening with you.

This is a very serious and delicate diplomatic affair which cannot be said in a couple of words. Please show some courtesy and be quiet so I can continue.

Leonardus snorted slightly and prepared to listen.

The whole matter of an unfortunate girl of royal blood, held prisoner and recently released in exchange for twelve prisoners of war was explained to him. Irritated, he wondered what this had to do with him at all, until the crucial point was made evident.

Are you asking me to take care of this girl for the rest of my days? Have you perhaps mistaken me for a nurse? The Austrian count stood at his evident outrage.

I am not asking. This is an order from the Emperor himself!

The business at hand was getting more complicated and unpleasant than he had foreseen. Decidedly worse than even his gloomiest expectation. And it was clear that the Emperor wouldn't take a no for an answer.

Why me? he managed to ask, refusing to accept that such misfortune was happening to him.

You're the person best suited for this task. You wore a diplomat's suit with some success, you're young and handsome and, most importantly, you're not married.

And what does my status as a single man have to do with all this?

With exasperating slowness, the count lit a cigar. He let out a puff before resuming: Sir, you are being asked to take the girl as your wife. She was raped while in captivity and is now expecting a child. This marriage is necessary to silence the gossip.

Leonardus went ashen. To get a grip on himself he snatched the cup of rum which had been kindly offered and drank it down in a single gulp.

Damn it! was his only answer.

––––––––

The coach rode swiftly on the cobbled road to the Swiss border. Charlotte looked out worriedly from the window and sighed. She had been travelling for hours and was anxious to arrive at her destination. She had been told their goal was a small border town called Huningue. She was still uncertain of who would meet her at that place, but she hoped for someone friendly. She was in much need of comfort, after all the suffering she had lived through in the last years.

"Move away from the window, madame" chided the acrid voice of her companion. She was a stern and obnoxious woman who Charlotte deemed incapable of experiencing the slightest feeling of affection. A total mismatch for someone like her, who was famished for affection.

She sank back on her seat and started playing distractedly with the laced edge on the collar of the gown she was wearing. The garment was discreetly elegant, with a higher neckline than fashion demanded and in a size too big for her, in order to hide the embarrassing roundness of her belly. The dark grey fabric gave her the air of a governess rather than a princess. Her hair had also been austerely styled, combed back into a tight bun at the back of her head. Only by accident did a few blond strands manage to escape from the hairpins and fluttered about, carried by the wind.

When shall we arrive? she had the courage to ask, in a sorrowful tone. She felt the need to stretch her legs and fill her lungs with the mountain air. Despite the stark winter cold, her entire being yearned to be in the open, to feel again the wide space around her, without encircling walls.

It's not far now. Her companion folded her arms across her. "Try to be patient, madame."

She wanted to say that she had run out of patience after the years of imprisonment, but she bit her tongue and turned her head to look through the window.

They were crossing Alsace and the sight of the snowed expanses made her relax a little.

Finally, the coach came to a stop in front of a three-storeyed stone building, with a roof of pink brick. The sign above the door indicated this was an inn for travellers which bore the name of Hotel du Corbeau.

Charlotte arranged the heavy pelt coat over her slight shoulders and waited for the coacher to open the car's door and help her down.

She was surprised to see two persons were waiting for her. A tall and slender young man stood in front of her coach. His face looked familiar to her eyes, that filled with tears once she recognised him.

Louis Antoine! she exclaimed, running to throw herself into his arms. Is it really you?

The young man with long brown hair and oval face held her briefly before pulling back and smiling awkwardly at her.

It's a pleasure to see you again, cousin he said. He then turned towards the other person who had kept discreetly at bay.

Charlotte followed his gaze and found herself staring into a pair of grey eyes, cold as ice.

The stranger approached cautiously. He walked with sure steps which she immediately hated. His black hair was cut shorter than was fashionable. His face was a little angular, but had a compelling beauty about it. His thin lips, however, curved up into what seemed to her a forced, affected smile.

Her cousin hastily introduced him: This is Leonardus Van der Valck, a Dutch diplomat.

The man with the icy stare held her hand and kissed it. Charlotte felt herself shudder and an intense blush coloured her pale cheeks. She pulled her hand away, as if she had touched something scalding, and immediately turned her gaze away. She wondered what the stranger was doing there and felt irritated at his presence.

"I'm deeply honoured to meet you, madame" said the man, with a deep, sonorous voice, but in a tone which appeared to give the lie to his words.

She gave him a slight nod and managed to smile while her cousin led her towards the entrance to the inn.

I imagine you need to refresh yourself and change your gown said Louis Antoine, sounding hurried.

She glanced one last time behind her, where Van der Valck had stayed staring at her, with an unreadable expression on those grey eyes.

What is that man doing here? she whispered, perplexed. Her cousin smiled enigmatically as he held the inn's door open for her. We'll talk about it later he answered, walking hastily.

Charlotte had no choice but to follow him.

––––––––

As soon as they were inside the Hotel du Corbeau, Louis Antonie introduced her chambermaid for the brief stay. She was a young girl with auburn hair and a gentle smile. She noted her tired appearance and hurried her to her room in order to prepare a warm bath for her.

Her travel companion, Madame de Soucy, had also retired to refresh herself, causing Charlotte to sigh in relief. The woman didn't inspire any sympathy in her, although she couldn't explain the reason why. Perhaps she had developed a natural mistrust towards humankind during her years in captivity, and she was now suspicious of anyone close to her.

She let the maid remove her dusty clothes and then stepped into the bathtub, feeling immediately relieved. She closed her eyes as she was carefully lathered and turned her thought to her cousin.

She had been surprised to find him waiting for her. Louis Antoine was the eldest son of her father's brother , the Count of Artois, and from the day of her birth both their families had considered to arrange their marriage. This had never displeased her.

Louis Antoine was endowed with positive attributes: beauty, elegance and good spirits. He had appeared in her adolescent dreams as her ideal blue prince, who rushed to her rescue riding a white horse, to take her away to a castle where they would live happily ever after. And she now found him here, just after being liberated, with his placid smile and loving regard. For a moment she felt the desire to have him embrace her and cry on his shoulder to rid herself of all the painful memories of the recent years. Nevertheless, she couldn't forget that a real lady would never make such a public display of weakness.

A sigh escaped her and she had to fight hard not to surrender herself into the embrace of Morpheus.

––––––––

Leonardus Van der Valck continued staring at the closed door of the inn, after Charlotte had entered with her cousin.

It now seemed incredible that he would soon be wedded to that weak creature with fearful eyes. And what eyes. He couldn't deny the mere sight of their blue depths, reminiscent of the clear sky of springtime, had shaken him.

Her hair was the colour of wheat fields, a golden yellow with a few lighter strands that made it even more luminous. He wondered what it would feel like to caress their silky mass.

Damn it all. He was heading into perilous terrain. Feeling attraction for this girl was the worst mistake he could make, specially since their marriage would be a mere facade.

That was the agreement. He would give her his name – or a false name, to be more precise, since even her identity must remain a secret – but he would certainly never share her bed. He voiced no objection when Count Brank explained the plan to him. He felt no desire to go to bed with someone who was a total stranger, as well as an annoying nuisance.

It was true he didn't imagine how beautiful she was.

Nonetheless it was clear that the girl didn't feel the slightest sympathy for him. When he kissed her hand she had pulled back immediately, as if she had been bitten by a snake. And the brief glance she'd made in his direction was certainly not encouraging. Well, this should be no surprise. He must not forget she was a king's daughter, while he was a mere diplomat without any title of nobility, although he would soon be a count. It was completely natural that she was used to dealing with men very different from him. Men who were more refined and surely less libertine.

A cynical smile played on his face. And yet, this libertine would marry the young princess in secret. If he had told the story, nobody would have believed him.

––––––––

After her bath, Charlotte was helped into a fresh gown. The model was not too different from the previous one, the only difference being the colour, a very dark plum which was in stark contrast with her clear countenance.

There was a time when she had loved the lighter hues and pastel colours, but they didn't suit her anymore. She had decided to be in mourning for the rest of her life and was sure she would never again wear clothes in lively colours. She gave a quick glance at her reflection in the mirror, in order to rearrange her blond strands inside the veiled cap, matching her gown's colour.

At that moment, somebody knocked on the door.

She gave an order and the chambermaid ran to open it. A young lady walked with sure steps and stopped right in front of her. Her eyes opened wide at the surprise of recognition.

Ernestine... is it really you? Her voice shook a little as she looked at who had been her playmate in childhood.

Yes, it's me, answered the girl, who would have looked very similar to her to a careless observer.

They were pretty much the same height, both blond and blue-eyed. Even their age was the same. However, Ernestine's nose was slightly more pronounced and her smile seemed tight, her aspect harsher and more severe.

Charlotte approached her to hold her in a close embrace. At heart, Ernestine was the closest she had to a sister. After the death of her mother, a servant by the name of Philippine Lambriquet, Charlotte's family had taken her under their protection. They had grown together, playing at the same games and studying under the same preceptors.

What are you doing here? she managed to ask at last. Of all the people she had expected to find at that remote mountain site, Ernestine was the least likely.

I was brought here by your family she answered.

Oh! That was a surprise. Maybe they thought she might need a friendly presence about her, she told herself, moved by their considerate thought.

But Ernestine destroyed any sentimental theory. You are not to proceed on the journey to Vienna, as you had previously been told she clarified, in a cold and implacable voice.

What? Charlotte's voice suddenly broke. What could she mean?

I will go on that journey in your stead and I will take your place in the days ahead.

Her eyes grew wider with stupor and disbelief. What are you saying? I...

You have been found unfit to fill the role which rightfully awaited you Ernestine interrupted her curtly. She looked at her with disdain and pointed at the slight swelling of her belly. You're expecting a child, are you not?

Charlotte was startled by such a direct question. A real lady would never dare to mention her condition, but Ernestine had clearly forgotten the rules of bon ton.

I...don't... she stammered confusedly, before her interlocutor interrupted her again taking on an air of defiance.

You realise your reputation is ruined, my dear Charlotte. You will never make a good marriage now. You are not good anymore, you understand?

Charlotte's eyes were blinded by tears. Was it possible that her family meant to get rid of her? How could she carry any blame for being raped? It hadn't been her choice to throw herself into that guard's arms. And yet, she knew well that in those people's eyes she would always be a fallen woman and her child a bastard.

Not even Louis Antoine could overlook this fact. He would certainly never want her as his wife now. It was completely understandable.

What will become of me now? she managed to ask, trying hard to keep some dignity.

Ernestine answered her with a smile filled with scorn. You will marry a Dutch diplomat. He's already been introduced, if I'm not mistaken her smile grew wider as she added: They say he's a libertine with no morals and a gambler on top of that. It's true he's not at the level of a princess such as you, but he will be amply rewarded, and therefore he won't mind the shame of marrying a girl who's carrying somebody else's child inside her womb.

Those words wounded her mortally, but what filled her with burning anguish was learning that she would marry Leonardus Van der Valck. The disquieting personage who was present when she arrived. The man with the icy stare.

She shuddered at the mere thought and shook her head. No. It can't be.

Ernestine fixed her with another triumphant stare: a cold smile was painted on her face while she eyed her with hatred.

Why do you seem to find pleasure in my situation? I was held prisoner, you haven't got the faintest idea of what that means, of how I've been treated... her stomach turned at the sole thought.

Ernestine's expression didn't change even for an instant. Your entire life you've believed you are better than me, isn't that so? she attacked her furiously. You took even my father's affection away from me. He only had eyes for you and I had to do with the leftovers of his love. The time for my redemption has come.

Charlotte gazed at her, uncomprehending. Your father? I don't understand...

"Haven't you figured it out yet? Your father was my father as well. We are half-sisters."

For an instant, she had the impression that it was all a nightmare. If what Ernestine was saying was true, her father had been unfaithful to her mother. And yet he had always seemed to be the most loving husband. Unlike his predecessors he had never kept a mistress openly.

She suddenly felt nauseated at the thought of the father she loved so much, held in some other woman's embrace.

She opened her mouth, gaping for air. She felt she was suffocating, as she often did when something unsettled her. Then she grabbed the door's handle and pulled it open. She ran into the corridor with tears in her eyes.

Chapter 2

Leonardus was climbing the stairway to reach his own chamber when a slender figure moved rapidly towards him. She seemed dazed, to the point that she hadn't realised she was about to run into his arms.  He tried to dodge but didn't have time. A moment later she struck him, with the strength of a hurricane.

It was only when she felt the impact that Charlotte's tear-filled eyes looked up and she recognised him.

Monsieur Van der Valck...

You're crying he remarked, startled. What has happened? He was deeply upset to see her in that condition.

After a moment's hesitation, Charlotte burst into choked sobs, leaning her face against his chest.

Damn it! he cursed, whispering. He hated women in tears, but this time he felt gripped by commotion. The girl had suffered too much in recent times. She had lost her loved ones, lived in prison and had been raped. He suddenly wanted to comfort her, but didn't have the slightest idea of how to offer consolation to a woman.

Come on, stop crying he murmured quietly, lifting her face to look again into her blue eyes. She seemed so innocent and pure that it almost hurt his heart to see her.

Charlotte sniffled and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. E-excuse she mumbled regretfully. I have soaked your shirt...

Van der Valck held back a smile. Don't worry about it. Here. He offered a handkerchief which the girl grabbed with her tiny hand, while she was still being racked by her sobbing.

Why are you crying? Has someone been unkind to you?

Charlotte drew herself up. She remembered Ernestine's words: she would soon be forced to marry this man. She suddenly regretted letting him see her bursting into tears. She shouldn't have shown her weakness, specially since she meant nothing for Van der Valck but a profitable business.

Ernestine had been clear: he had agreed to take her as his wife for money. After getting what he wanted, he would probably lock her away in some rich dwelling, forgetting about her very existence. She wasn't stupid enough to think that their relationship would be built on affection.

All at once her stomach contracted in rage and her fingers tightened convulsively on the handkerchief. What do you care? she answered with rancour.

Leonardus goggled her doubtfully. He had sensed her sudden change of mood, but couldn't understand the motive. Maybe the news of their impending marriage had been broken to her? Was this the reason why she was filled with tears? Well, he certainly couldn't blame her for that. No innocent girl would wish to marry a demon like him. Nonetheless, the thought irritated him. "It is my task to make sure of your wellbeing. I am paid to do just that, madame."

The allusion to the fact that the whole situation was for him only an assignment hurt her deeply. She bit her lower lip and she pulled herself free from that unwelcome embrace.

Have no fear she answered icily. You will not lose your profit because of me. I shouldn't have burst into tears, but as you know already I've lost my family and I was taken by a momentary distress. Anyway, in the future I shall not burden you with my problems. Kindly excuse me.

She walked away before he could make any kind of reply. Leonardus watched her rigid figure and felt suddenly, instinctively vexed. What nerve the girl had to treat him that way! If that was the preface to their life together, the prospect wasn't exactly rosy. Feeling exasperated, he clicked his tongue and continued to climb the stairway.

––––––––

In the meantime, Charlotte had left the inn, trying to calm herself. Snow was beginning to fall and a chilling wind was blowing, biting into her bones. Anyway, she preferred the inclement weather to the company of either Van der Valck or Ernestine.

She had been convinced that the hardest days of her existence were left behind her, but at this point she wasn't certain any more. A marriage to a man she despised was waiting for her, and she had just found out that she had a sister who hated her. Could anything worse happen to her now?

She heard footsteps behind her and turned around, her face ashen. Her cousin had followed her and was scanning her with a serious look in his eyes.

Madame Lambriquet has told me she spoke with you he began, uncertainly. I would have preferred to break the news to you myself.

She arched an eyebrow. Would it make any difference? Maybe you would have succeeded in sugarcoating the bitter pill?

Charlotte...

Please, be quiet. There is nothing you can say or do to calm me. I've been sold away to that Dutch diplomat and nobody has gone to the trouble of asking me what I thought about it.

Louis Antoine sighed. He realised his cousin was perfectly right. Still, it was for her own good that the decision had been made.

Charlotte, there was no other way, unfortunately. In your condition... he coughed nervously in reference to her pregnancy. In your condition you couldn't hope for a better marriage. Besides, the torments you had to endured have upset you so much. If you were taken to Vienna now you would be forced to assume an important political role, in the midst of the European courts. Do you think yourself ready to undertake this?

Charlotte bowed her head, confused. No, in truth she wasn't ready. But nor was she ready to agree