Bonaparte rose early the next morning to inspect the troops on the beach. Even from the farmhouse, Georgiana could hear the military music and cheering.
"They make merry during the day," Georgiana said with a smile to those at the breakfast table. "At night, it will be our turn."
The others gave dry, restrained laughs.
"Layla, remember to stay close to Madame Geoffrin. I'll leave the errands to you."
"Yes, madam." Layla du Rênal, the timber merchant's daughter, curtsied behind the elderly lady.
Madame Geoffrin had been a celebrated salon hostess during the Enlightenment, and hers had also been one of the longest-running salons. Her husband, Monsieur Geoffrin, had been one of the founders of France's Royal Glassworks. Its principal works included the Hall of Mirrors at the Palace of Versailles and all the window glass in its galleries.
Women often outlived men by a few years. Though Madame Geoffrin, once in the full bloom of youth, now showed every sign of age after so many decades, Fargeon had still found a way to invite her.
Beside her sat Countess d'Haussonville. Her salon was known as "the antechamber of the French Academy," since her husband was an academician of the French Academy. These two ladies were responsible for the banquet tableware and the arrangements at the venue.
"How are things in the kitchen?" Georgiana asked another woman.
"Everything is ready," replied the food supplier from Britain and the "Cordon Bleu chef" from France together.
This chef had also been introduced by Fargeon. She had once helped prepare a genuine court banquet at Versailles, rather than "palace-hotel food."
The nouveaux riches favored sumptuous and exquisite court cuisine. Where there was demand, there was supply, but nearly all food prepared by those restaurants was imitation. To eat authentic court cuisine, one still