Becoming Josephine Read Online Free PDF Page B

and overly vivid in purples and reds. The popular pastels were unsuited for her; her character would not be contained in a pale corset. Heavy curls hung in thickly powdered ringlets adorned with silk feathers, and rouge colored her lips and cheeks to the point of overdone. She resembled a rare bird flitting through the treetops of my jungle home.
    A smile spread across my face. “I am very pleased to meet you, Madame—”
    “Fanny, love. No one calls me Madame de Beauharnais. I insist.” She regarded my face and dress. “You’re adorable. And how is Alexandre? Has he shown you around town?”
    “No, I’m afraid I haven’t seen much of him—”
    Désirée interrupted me. “He meets with his garrison and stays with the La Rochefoucould family when he can. You know how dedicated he is to his duties and his friends, Fanny.”
    “Among other things,” Fanny answered with a pointed look at Désirée.
    My heart skipped in my chest. What did that mean?
    Before I could ask, Fanny changed the subject. “You must attend my salon one evening. With Alexandre, of course. My soirees are quite famous, you know.” She rattled off many names, none of which I had ever heard, but I was assured of their importance. Her rapid speech left her breathless and I laughed when she paused for air.
    “It all sounds so wonderful! I’ve been restless in this cold season,” I said. “Would you care for a drink of chocolate?”
    “Chocolat chaud would be divine. Come. Tell me all about yourself.” She took my hand in hers.
    “If you will excuse me, Fanny, I must speak with the doctor,” Désirée said. “He is upstairs with the Marquis.”
    I hid a smile with my hand. The doctor had not yet arrived; Désirée wanted to escape. She must not enjoy Fanny’s company.
    “Of course, Désirée. Give him my love.”
    “And will you dismiss my tutor?”
    “For today.” Désirée glided through the door.
    I found myself at ease in Fanny’s presence. I adored her jovial laugh and frank nature.
    “Tell me about your home,” she said. “Your friends and family. And I hear there are strange jungle creatures?”
    She fired question after question, and I withheld nothing. But her greatest interest lay in plantation life with the Africans.
    “And the slaves? What is their life like on your plantation?”
    Fanny didn’t notice the clink of silverware behind her. I glanced back to see Mimi collecting a dropped knife she had been polishing. I met her eyes. She looked down, concentrating on her task as if her life depended on it.
    “They live in huts unless they are part of the household. The dearest, most hardworking dine and sleep in the main house.”
    Mimi did not look in our direction, but her silence throbbed in the air. She knew she was my dearest—my friend, even.
    “Do they work from sunrise to sunset? What do they eat? What’s the punishment for a slave that misbehaves? I’ve heard horrible tales,” Fanny pressed.
    I found it curious she should be so consumed with their routine. Slaves were not our equals, after all. What could be so interesting?
    “All men and women should have rights, regardless of their position, gender, or upbringing,
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,” Fanny insisted. “Or the color of their skin.”
    Mimi’s eyes widened.
    I cleared my throat and said, “Mimi, could you fetch us some cakes if there are any left?” She placed her polishing rag on the bureau and scurried to the kitchen.
    What a grandiose idea. I had never given a slave’s freedom any thought, let alone the “rights” of women. I accepted our roles—those of the slaves in their fields and the Grands Blancs running their plantations. Our sugarcane would rot, our plantations crumble without the Africans. Where would we be then? Yet Fanny had given me much to ponder.

    Alexandre and I married in a small church in Noisy-le-Grand. The sanctuary sat shrouded in filtered light. Broken patterns of color streamed from stained glass windows and illuminated patches of