The Sheik's Son

Germaine was educated and had attended many of her mother’s salon assemblies as a child. She was influenced by the intellectuals who frequented the meetings and had become a writer herself. Marmontel watched Madame Necker and Germaine exchange a smile and returned to the conversation.

“I think from the tone of the pamphlet it is quite obvious it is written by a woman, and the author’s name itself is a joke,” he said.

La Harpe, who had been quiet until now, nod

ded to his friend and smiled. “Indeed.”

“I’m intrigued, my friend,” Madame Necker replied. “Pray tell us the name and the pamphlet’s contents.”

Sophie was only half listening to the conversation as she surveyed the salon and its people. Men and women were in small groups throughout the large salon room and everyone was dressed in their finest silks and satins.

Some women, including her grandmother, did not seem at all interested in their surroundings and even seemed to snub the salon. Others, like her father, were engrossed in conversation; a small group of men was speaking heatedly about some topic unknown to her.

“It was of women’s rights,” Marmontel began.

“Yes?” Madame Necker said excitedly.

A new pamphlet always generated a certain amount of buzz in the Paris salons.

“It discussed women and their only expectations—to give birth and marry,” he finished.

“I trust not in that order,” La Harpe said drily.

Madame Necker ignored him. “How exciting!”

“She also touched on the subject of education and women,” La Harpe supplied.

Madame Necker smiled brightly. This was a subject dear to her heart as she had ensured her own daughter Germaine was educated. At that moment, Germaine herself joined their foursome after overhearing much of their discussion.

“Are you speaking of the new pamphlet by Jean Inconnu?” Germaine asked.

Sophie was jerked out of her reverie of people-watching as the younger woman joined them. ”What?”

Marmontel smiled at the mention of the author’s name. “Exactly, Mademoiselle Germaine. Need I say more, Madame Necker? Jean Inconnu? Jean Unknown? Come now.”

Madame Necker had to admit that a pamphlet written about women’s rights and education and signed “Jean Unknown” did not sound like a man. It sounded like a woman who wanted to write and do so anonymously.

Sophie could feel her heart beat faster as she began to listen to the small group speak. Earlier, she had heard vaguely the words “pamphlet” and “women’s rights” but had not paid that much attention.

She had been focused on a couple at the far end of the room who were engaged in mild flirting. The woman was clad in a pale blue gown with a blue powdered wig, while her hand rested familiarly on the man’s orange silk-clad shoulder. The man did not seem at all concerned about the attention and seemed to enjoy it.

Meanwhile, her father was seated with a group of men engaged in what appeared to be a heated discussion, judging by their raised voices and hand gestures.

When she heard the name Jean Inconnu, there was no mistake. The group was discussing her very own pamphlet.

“I am pleased and I cannot wait to read it for myself,” Madame Necker added.

“I’m sure you’ll agree wholeheartedly with the pamphlet, Mère,” Germaine leaned down and kissed her mother on both cheeks.

“Bonsoir, chere,” she greeted her daughter.

Germaine joined the group even as Sophie felt her heartbeat race. She always knew that there was a chance Monsieur Blanche would publish her pamphlet. In truth, her writings were sparked after her grandmother had angered her and pushed her again and again with the idea of marriage. Finally, she had taken pen to paper to vent. Now she sat in an esteemed Paris salon as those around her discussed her very pamphlet. It was beyond exhilarating.

She was excited to hear more from these influential people and their thoughts on her words when another figure approached their group.

This man was dressed in a purple velvet coat, cream-colored waistcoat and purple satin breeches. His hair was lightly powdered and clubbed with a black satin ribbon. He had a high forehead, dark eyebrows and viewed the younger women with interest. He held in his hand a glass of champagne.

“I wanted to give my regards to our hostess,” the man said, eyeing Germaine and Sophie while nodding to the two men.