“I entirely blame your side of the family for this mess,” Mohammed told his wife as he sat beside her.
“Our daughter Margaret is married and has a family in England,” Katharine replied. “There was no mess there.”
“Perhaps.”
“And if all goes well, our daughter Isabelle will take vows with the religious order here in France,” Katharine said.
“Hmmm.” Mohammed said. He was not at all certain that a religious life was the best path for his very serious and lovely middle daughter.
“If Leila is happy and in love and he loves her, that is all that matters,” Katharine told her husband.
“Yes, princess. But Leila was never the one I worried about,” he said, shaking his head.
“Indeed? As spoiled and beautiful as she is?”
“No. I always knew a man would come along to tame her. As I tamed you.”
Katharine laughed as she felt his fingers along her neck. “I tamed you,” she replied.
“No, I worry about that son of ours.” His fingers moved along her neck even as a sigh escaped her lips.
“Sebastian?” She closed her eyes as his fingers massaged her neck.
“Yes. He sees too much and says too little. He’s too wrapped up in his own head.” Mohammed said.
“He’ll be fine. Once Leila is married, it will be time to find him a wife.” She drew her husband’s head down as their lips met.
***
Madame Necker held a glass of champagne and watched as her husband circulated the room while she waited for the right moment to find Sophie alone.
When she did, she greeted her warmly and complimented her dress.
“Merci, Madame Necker,” said Sophie.
Madame Necker looked lovely in a satin gown of gold. The two women moved together on the edge of the ballroom as Suzanne took this moment to address her concerns.
“As you know, my dear, I educated Germaine well above the average woman. Your father saw fit to do the same with you,” she said.
Sophie was unsure of the flow of the conversation but nodded in agreement. “Yes. That is so.”
“I hold you in high regard, Sophie. So you will forgive my prying when I say I fear this course you are on.”
Sophie paled in the candlelight. “This course?”
“Your pamphlets, my dear,” Madame Necker said softly.
“I see,” Sophie said quietly. “Have you known for long?”
“For some time I suspected but at the chateau I knew for certain. You argued adeptly but with a little too much passion for one discussing childbirth.” Suzanne smiled lightly.
“And you think to warn me?” Sophie asked.
“Yes. I know I bear the guilt of some of your writings.”
“That’s not true,” Sophie said, shaking her head.
“Nevertheless. The more you become educated with the surrounding world of France, the more your pamphlets reflect that. And, my dear, I fear you are becoming a revolutionary.”