Storm Winds Read Online Free Page A

statue back on the pedestal. “I’ll have my agent in Marseilles give you a letter of credit to our bank in Venice for the remainder of the money I owe you.”
    “I don’t wish any more money,” Desedero said. “I cheated you.”
    “Nonsense. You did what you were paid to do.” Jean Marc’s smile was filled with irony. “You were given my livres to create a statue, not a dream.”
    “Ah, yes.” Desedero nodded in understanding. “The dream …”
    “Well, I’m only a man of business who doesn’tunderstand these idealistic vagaries. It appears a duplicate won’t do, so I will have to get the Wind Dancer for him.”
    “What will you do?”
    “What I should have done in the beginning. Go to Versailles myself and find a way to persuade the queen to sell the Wind Dancer. I didn’t want to leave my father when—” He broke off, his hands again slowly clenching. “I knew he didn’t have much time left.”
    “But how can you expect to succeed when she’s clearly so determined to keep it?” Desedero asked gently.
    “Information.” Jean Marc’s lips twisted in a cynical smile. “I’ll find out what she most desires and give it to her in exchange for the statue. I’ll take lodgings in an inn near the palace and before two weeks are gone I’ll know more about the court and Her Majesty than King Louis does himself, even if I have to bribe every groom and maid in the palace.”
    Desedero gestured to the statue on the pedestal. “And this?”
    Jean Marc avoided looking at the Pegasus as he strode to the door. “I never want to see it again. You may sell off the jewels and melt it down.” He jerked open the door. “God knows, I may need the additional gold to tempt Louis into selling the Wind Dancer.”
    The door slammed behind him.

TWO
    Y ou’re spoiling the lad.” Marguerite’s thin lips pursed as she gazed at Louis Charles’s fair head nestled against Juliette’s breast. “His nurse won’t thank you for this coddling when we get him back to Versailles.”
    “He’s been ill.” Juliette’s arms tightened protectively around the baby’s warm, firm body. Not really a baby any longer, she thought wistfully. The queen’s second son was over two, but he still felt endearingly small and silken in her arms. “He deserves a little extra attention. The motion of the coach upsets his stomach.”
    “Nonsense. The doctor at Fontainebleau pronounced the prince fit for travel.”
    “That doesn’t mean he’s completely well again.” Juliette glared at Marguerite on the seat across from her. “Only two weeks ago he was running a fever high enough for the queen to fear for his life.”
    “Measles don’t always kill. You had them twice and survived.”
    Louis Charles stirred and murmured something into Juliette’s shoulder.
    Juliette looked down, a smile illuminating her face. “Shh,
bébé
, we’ll soon have you back with your
maman
. All is well.”
    “Yes, now that we’re returning to Versailles,” Marguerite agreed sourly. “So contrary of you to offer to stay with the child at Fontainebleau when the court returned to Versailles. You knew I’d have to stay with you no matter how much your mother needed my services.”
    Juliette rocked the little boy back and forth, her fingers tangled in his downy, soft curls. It would do no good to argue with Marguerite, she thought wearily. The woman cared for naught but her mother’s comfort and welfare and was never happy except in her presence. It didn’t matter to her that the queen had been worried to distraction when Louis Charles had fallen ill. Marie Antoinette’s baby daughter, Sophie, had died only four months before and Louis Joseph, dauphin and heir to the throne, whose health had always been fragile, was failing rapidly. When Her Majesty’s ever-robust youngest son had succumbed to the measles, she had been in despair.
    “Put him down on the seat,” Marguerite ordered.
    Juliette’s lips set stubbornly. “He’s still not well. Her