The last time Georgiana had seen Gaudin Poitvin was at the court where the Tennis Court Oath had been proclaimed.
Back then, the handsome young man's eyes had been as sharp as a clever wolf's, searching the reception hall for women who had strayed from the crowd.
Now that he had come to the Grand Trianon, his eyes remained fixed on Sophie. He did not even look at the "opportunity" he had searched so hard for.
Sophie refused to look at him and practically hid behind Georgiana.
Georgiana shook her head and gave two light coughs. Only then did Gaudin seem to wake from a dream and shift his gaze from Sophie to Georgiana.
"You finally agreed to see me, madam," Gaudin said pitifully, as if Georgiana had done something dreadful to hurt him.
"Since you write plays, you must spend a great deal of time around actresses. What do you think of them?" Georgiana asked impassively.
Gaudin did not answer at once.
"Walk with me, Monsieur Poitvin." Georgiana led him through the gardens of the Grand Trianon. Sophie and the other maids followed at a distance—not too close, not too far—near enough to watch them, but too far away to hear what they said.
"They live in worlds of their own invention," Gaudin said after a long while. "They think they are the center of the world."
"I see it differently. They actually dare to look down on Napoleon. I heard that when he was in the Papal States, the commander of the garrison fled the moment he heard his horse's hooves."
"You are not afraid of him either."
"That is because I give him no reason to kill me. He is not a bloodthirsty brute. In fact, he believes the sword always loses to ideas. Many people misunderstand