The Journal of Marie-Antoinette The secret thoughts, hopes and dreams of a princess.

It is done. I am married, I am Madame la Dauphine and I don’t feel any different.

After my bath, my maids and ladies in waiting dressed me in my gorgeous cloth of silver and lace wedding dress and slipped beautiful diamond heeled shoes on to my feet before the hairdresser stepped forward to attach thick hair pieces and tease and powder and pomade my fair hair into a formal style which was then decorated with diamond hearts and orange blossom.

‘A little rouge?’ Clementina skipped forward with a tiny porcelain pot of rouge, sent all the way from Paris by Madame la Duchesse de Choiseul as a wedding present. It smelt faintly of roses and violets.

I stared at myself in the mirror on my dressing table, unable to ignore how tired and pale my face looked despite the rouge and how frightened my eyes were as I took in my magnificent dress and looked shyly down to touch the ornate necklace of pearls and diamonds that had been lent by my mother for the occasion. ‘This necklace has been worn by every Imperial bride for generations,’ she had whispered as she opened their blue velvet box and fastened them around my neck. ‘I think that it brings us luck. I was wearing it when I married your father.’ She gazed away into the distance and I knew that she was thinking about Papa and how much she had loved him, loved him still in fact and how much she missed him. He should be here with us now.

‘Oh, Mama,’ I whispered, tears rising in my eyes. ‘I wish that Papa was here to see this.’ I took her hand in mine, something that I had never before been brave enough to do and to my surprise she curled her plump fingers around mine and squeezed. Perhaps, sometimes, Mama is as frightened as everyone else? Perhaps. It seems impossible, I know.

‘He would have been so proud,’ she said, nodding and smiling through the tears that streamed down her cheeks. ‘France was always so special to him.’

‘I know, I know,’ I soothed, resting my head lightly against her black taffeta shoulder, breathing in her familiar scent of lavender and rosemary, the scent that had once been Papa’s and which she had enveloped herself with ever since his passing. I tried to imagine myself loving the Dauphin so much that I mourned him as intensely as Mama had mourned my father but I could not. I do not think that I will ever love any man so much. ‘He is watching us from Heaven.’

As I looked at myself in the pearls and diamonds of an Imperial bride I found it hard to believe that this was finally and absolutely it, that we had come at last to the moment of truth. At any point up to now the intricate negotiations between France and Austria could have fallen apart but now, finally, it was too late for that and whatever happened from this moment on was down to me alone.

‘You look beautiful,’ my ladies in waiting all chorused, smiling encouragingly at me, their eyes anxiously searching mine for signs of panic or dread. I knew that they had had their orders, just as I had had mine. Their objective was to get me to the altar at any cost, while mine was simply to make one foot step in front of the other and smile as though I was going willingly to my own true love.

There was a knock on the door and Mama entered, flanked with liveried footmen and looking supremely magnificent in her black silk gown, the diamonds and jet on her stomacher glimmering in the light from the candles that stood on my dressing table. Even today she was wearing mourning, her only concession to the happy occasion being a little rouge on her lips, a pair of red silk shoes concealed beneath her voluminous skirts and a scattering of diamond pins in her pale hair. ‘Come, Antonia,’ she said holding out her hand and smiling as she deliberately used my Austrian name for the final time. ‘Come. It is time.’

We went on foot from the Hofburg to the austere, white fronted Augustinerkirche, the church of Saint Augustine where Imperial weddings have been held for centuries. My sisters and brothers were married there as were our parents and grandparents before them. I myself had been baptized there but of course have no recognition at all of this important occasion.

A huge crowd of courtiers and ordinary Viennese people lined the purple carpeted route between the palace and the church, which had been covered with a long canopy of white silk embroidered with the Imperial insignia. I felt faint and rather sick as my mother took my hand and led me out into the waning sunlight and cool breezes of Spring while behind me the Countess Trautmannsdorf heroically carried my heavy silver and lace train. I bit my lip and concentrated on placing one foot before the other, hardly noticing the stares and applause of the crowd that watched us pass or the whispers and giggles of my sisters behind us.

‘What a lovely day,’ Mama whispered, trying to put me at my ease. ‘The perfect day for a wedding.’

‘Yes.’ I nodded and, reminded of my duty, tried to smile and nod at the gathered people, very much aware that reports of my behaviour and appearance would be winging their way across Europe as soon as I had set foot within the church and there was nothing more to see outside.

‘Courage, courage, my darling girl,’ Mama murmured, squeezing my fingers. ‘Not long now.’

I smiled and nodded to either side of me, relieved to note that we were almost at the church door and that this particular ordeal was nearly at an end. And it was at this point that I saw him standing at the back of the crowd but tall enough to tower over them.

Karl. His gaze were fixed upon me and I blushed as our eyes met for a moment before I looked quickly away. He looked so handsome that for a brief impure moment I wished that it was he who would be kneeling beside me as I took my vows.

‘And here we are.’ We were in front of the doors, which swung upon to invite us into the gloomy, pungent, incense scented depths of the church, its velvety darkness broken only by the bright facets of light that fell like shattered rainbows from the tall windows on to the stone floor and rows of wooden pews below. I took a deep breath and stepped inside as a swell of organ music started up before the choir began to sing.

‘Remember, one foot in front of the other,’ my mother admonished with a smile as we began our slow walk up the aisle towards the altar, where my brother Ferdinand waited for us dressed in the full robes and furbelows of the Imperial orders. He looked magnificent and also extremely young. I suppose that we both did.

Again, I ignored the stares and concentrated on the huge gold embellished cross that stood on the gold and crimson embroidered altar cloth. The organ master was clearly enjoying himself and the music soared and peaked around us as we walked, miraculously creating an atmosphere of sanctity and also joy. I wished suddenly that I had asked for Wolferl Mozart to play at my wedding but he was doubtless far away as usual, maybe even in France. One day I will get him to play for me. Perhaps I will even commission a piece for myself.

We reached the altar and my mother gracefully gave my hand to my brother before kissing me on both cheeks and then turning away to step up on to the dais where Joseph was already sitting and take her place on an ornate throne at his side. I met Joseph’s eye for an instant and he winked and smiled encouragingly, knowing more than most just how hard this was going to be. I could see Durfort, magnificently dressed as ever in ice blue satin and gold lace, standing just behind Ferdinand, his dark eyes were fixed in a show of reverence upon the altar cross but I knew that he was as intensely aware of me as I was of him and that as soon as my back was turned he would be staring like everyone else and making mental notes of all the catty things he could report back to whoever his friends were in France.

‘Ready?’ Ferdinand whispered, holding my hand almost gingerly and at arm’s length. He looked extremely young and shy.

I smiled and nodded, trying not to think about how truly bizarre this actually was. ‘Ready.’

And with that we knelt together before God and I was married by proxy to Monsieur le Dauphin de France, a boy that I had never even seen. I knelt as Maria Antonia Josepha Johanna, Erzherzogin von Österreich, Prinzessin von Ungarn and arose to the blowing of trumpets and sounds of triumphant salvoes being fired outside with his consecrated gold ring upon my finger as Marie Antoinette Josephe Jeanne, Dauphine de France, Duchesse de Berri.

I wonder when it will begin to seem real?

I have not had enough sleep and desperately wish that I could return to bed and pull the covers over my head and sink back into my interrupted dreams of Paris. I am running out of time, however and even as I write this I can hear my maids bustling in the next room, running my lily and rose scented bath, gossiping with the fashionable Viennese hairdresser who has come to do my coiffure and fluffing out the skirts of my elaborate cloth of silver wedding dress.

The tiny green and white porcelain clock on my desk is counting down the hours – only two left now before I make my way to the church of the Augustine Friars, there to kneel beside my brother Ferdinand and make my vows. I feel faint and sick just thinking about it, thinking about the attendant fuss and all those eyes staring at my back as I say the words that will separate me from home forever and ever.

I am wondering also about the boy who is to become my husband, all those miles away in France. I wonder what he is thinking right now? Does he think of me at all?

We have just got back from Durfort’s party and my goodness, it was magnificent! The exquisite Liechtenstein Palace lies just outside Vienna and as we approached in our long train of carriages, it soon became obvious that the entire building and the splendid gardens were lit up by the golden blaze of thousands upon thousands of torches and candles, all casting their light across the graceful parterres, the sweeping avenues and the beautiful statues that lined them. I have been there many times before, of course, but have never seen the palace looking quite so beautiful, so imposing as it did last night.

Durfort was waiting to greet us in one of the gorgeous, painted reception rooms on the ground floor, a benign and almost friendly smile fixed on his plump face and his beringed hands outstretched to welcome us in.

‘You are most welcome,’ he bowed low before me, his tight blue silk suit creaking ominously as he did so. ‘I hope that you will enjoy our small party in your honour.’

‘Small party indeed!’ Clementina hissed at me as we passed through to the music and light filled gardens, the feathers on our elaborate coiffures brushing in an alarming fashion against the pink and orange lanterns strung from the doorway as we did so. ‘If this is their idea of a small party…’

‘Hush.’ I smiled and squeezed her arm with my gloved hand. ‘Let’s just enjoy ourselves.’ I took a deep, satisfied breath as we walked along the avenue, smiling and bowing to the courtiers as we went by. ‘Well, he has certainly pulled out all the stops hasn’t he?’ Everywhere I looked there were candles and gold dolphins in reference to the Dauphin and enormous blue, white and yellow bouquets and blue and gold liveried servants running here and there carrying silver trays laden with wine, champagne, small glasses of liqueurs and cakes.

‘I heard that there is a servant for every guest,’ Clementina whispered, linking her arm with mine. ‘He has certainly spared no expense and here was I thinking that he hated you.’

I grinned. ‘Oh, he may well dislike me but Durfort would never willingly miss an opportunity to outdo Austria and make us look inferior to France.’ I could hear my sisters Elizabeth and Christina laughing behind us, enjoying some light flirtation with male friends as they sauntered along the path, their matching ruffled yellow silk skirts sweeping the dust while further back my mother walked with Joseph, leaning heavily on his black velvet clad arm. Marianna had vanished straight away and was probably enjoying the palace’s famous library  while my other brothers were no doubt running amock, fuelled with hot chocolate and cakes.

‘I will miss all of this,’ I said with a sigh.

Clementina looked at me sadly. ‘In any other circumstance I would ask if you were having second thoughts but…’ Her eyes dropped, hiding her pity from me.

‘But I never had any choice in the matter,’ I finished for her. ‘And I couldn’t back out even if I wanted to.’ I shivered a little, feeling suddenly cold and exposed. ‘I wonder what would happen if I refused to go through with it?’

Clementina laughed. ‘Well your mother would almost certainly drag you kicking and screaming up the aisle to the altar.’ She arranged the shimmering pink silk stole that matched my beautiful, diamond strewn dress around my shoulders. ‘I am sure it has had to be done before.’

I smiled then. ‘I am sure that you are right. I am fortunate really to be marrying someone not ill looking and who is close to my own age.’ I shrugged lightly, trying not to think of the Dauphin’s podgy cheeks and weak chin. ‘It could be much worse.’

‘Oh yes, things could always be much worse! For a start, he could be old and ugly!’ she agreed with a laugh. ‘Or spotty.’

‘With nasty teeth!’ I whispered, giggling, ‘Bad breath! Long fingernails!’ I was laughing properly now, gasping for air. ‘He could look like Durfort!’

‘Only much, much worse! Clementina was bent double with laughter now. ‘Like a big fat, French toad!’

‘There is nothing worse! Oh, oh, this is too funny!’ I cried, wiping away tears of laughter, my amusement heightened by the awareness that Christina and Elizabeth had halted in the middle of the path and were both staring at me, their plucked eyebrows raised, their rouged lips pursed with disapproval.

‘Wait,’ Clementina had stopped laughing and was looking down across the gardens. ‘He is here.’

‘Where?’ There was no need to ask who ‘he’ was. Clementina and I had no secrets from each other. ‘Has he seen me? How do I look?’ I did a little twirl, the diamond stars on my pink silk skirts glimmering in the torchlight.

‘You look beautiful,’ she whispered. ‘I will walk with you but my ears as well as my lips are sealed.’

‘Oh, Clementina, what would I do without you?’ We linked arms again and sauntered across the crowded terrace towards Karl. I blushed and ducked my head away beneath the weight of his admiring stare, reminding myself that he had once been Amalia’s lover and probably still was, at least as far as Amalia was concerned.

‘Your Highness.’ He was in front of me now, grinning widely as he bowed and lifted my hand up to his warm lips, his hazel eyes smiling down into mine. ‘You look enchanting.’

‘Thank you.’ I gazed up at him, thinking how handsome he looked in his russet velvet suit and wondering what it would be like to press my lips, just once to his. This last thought made me blush again and pull my hand away, overcome with embarrassment and terrified lest he could discern my thoughts in some way.

‘Shall we walk?’ He offered me his arm and I hesitated for a moment before placing my hand upon it. ‘A few minutes won’t do any harm.’ He looked over my shoulder and his smile melted away while a wariness crept into his eyes. ‘Ah.’

‘Antoinette?’ I turned and there was Joseph, looming over us, his clear blue eyes concerned as they met my own. ‘Will you walk with me for a while?’

I forced a smile and transferred my hand from Karl’s arm to that of my brother, hardly daring to look back at him in case my face betrayed my disappointment. ‘Of course.’

‘I was just about to take Her Highness to you,’ Karl lied smoothly, moving aside.

Joseph bowed, clearly disbelieving. ‘Of course.’ He swept me away, leaving Clementina with Karl and I dared not look back to see what they were doing, although I felt a sudden pang of jealousy that my lady in waiting would get to enjoy his company whereas I…

‘I do not want you to be alone with that young man again.’ Joseph’s voice was clipped and cold. ‘Amalia broke her heart over him and I am not keen to see another of my sisters fall into his clutches.’

‘I have always thought him to be very amiable,’ I remarked, trying to keep my tone light and unconcerned. ‘We are friends merely.’

Joseph gave a short laugh. ‘I am not a fool, Antoinette!’ he said, looking almost angry. ‘I saw the way that he was looking at you, the way that you almost fell over your skirts in your haste to get to him.’ He looked disdainful. ‘I think that you will agree that it is not often that I find occasion to speak to you like this, but kindly remember who you are!’ He looked at me then and his face softened. ‘It is hard, I know, to be given away in marriage and to feel like you have no control over your own destiny but you will learn how to bear it, truly you will.’

Will I learn to bear it? Really?

Oh, my head hurts and I should go to bed. It is now the early hours of my wedding day and already I can see a little bit of dawn peeping out from behind the rooftops while overhead the birds are beginning to sing, hailing the new day in their usual cheerful way.

My wedding day. I can hardly believe that it is here at last and that next time I write in this book I will be Madame la Dauphine de France and someone else entirely. First I was Maria Antonia, then I was Marie Antoinette and next I shall be Madame la Dauphine. I wonder what the Dauphin is thinking right now? If he is even awake, which of course he won’t be.

Oh, I am rambling now. I should go to bed. Not to dream of Karl. No. Poor Karl. Poor me. Poor all of us.

We are about to leave for Durfort’s ball at the Liechtenstein Palace, which lies just outside Vienna. I must admit that I am terribly nervous about the whole affair as I have no idea what he has in store for us although Anna tells me that there are rumours all over Vienna that no expense has been spared and his party will outshine the Imperial ball last night. In which case I am glad that I am wearing a new Parisian gown of shimmering cream silk, covered all over with gold lace and sequins. I have tiny little diamond stars in my hair as well, which I think look très becoming. I did not get enough sleep after the party last night and so my maids have smoothed a little rouge on my cheeks to hide my paleness and make me look more awake and lively.

I can hear Mama asking where I am (I am writing this in the little closet behind her bedchamber, which is the only place that I can be entirely private now) so must go.

I hope that Karl is there. He said that he would be but that means nothing. I must remember Amalia and her feelings. She is far away though and need never know.

Oh, that makes it sound like I am planning some sort of wrong doing but I am not. Truly. He is my sister’s lover, not mine. I do not have a lover and do not think to have one.

They are shouting for me now. I must go.

It is four o clock in the morning and we have only just arrived back at the Hofburg after tonight’s masked ball at the Belvedere Palace. I am absolutely exhausted and would like nothing better than to rest my head upon this desk and give myself up to the deepest, dreamiest sleep and yet, no, I feel that I must write it all down for who knows how much I will remember when I wake up again?

Joseph was very secretive about his party plans and so I had no idea what to expect until we arrived there in a great cavalcade of carriages in the evening. I was wearing a really lovely new dress of pink silk, sewn all over with diamonds and shimmering sequins and with gold lace on the cuffs, hem and bosom although you could not see all of it underneath the white silk domino that we were all told to wear, which is a shame. We were all wearing the same though and also white half masks, which Anna and Clementine were very excited about as they had never been to a masked ball before and were looking forward to flirting incognito with all of the young men.

Anyway, we arrived to find the palace, which is very lovely, all lit up with torches and thousands upon thousands of candles with footmen running here and there and the grounds swarming with thousands of people, all dressed in their finest clothes and hiding their identities behind the same plain masks and white silk cloaks. I clapped my hands together in glee when I first beheld them as they looked so romantic and mysterious, flitting between the statues and the trees like ghosts and chattering excitedly behind their fans. Everyone was being flirtatious and I saw several couples exchange lingering looks from behind their masks.

Joseph himself led me into supper, looking very dashing in diamond spangled black velvet and I think he must have admired me very much as I heard him say to Mama that if she could only find him a princess as pretty as me then he would consider marrying again immediately. How kind of him. Supper was delicious, although I was far too excited to eat much and had to be reminded to have some lobster and wine before I had finally had enough and jumped up from the table to dance, first with my sweet Max and next with Ferdinand, both of whom were dressed in crimson silk and eyeing up the ladies of the court with small magnifying glasses that hung from their gold embroidered waistcoats.

I was so happy and excited that I even managed to be pleasant to Christina and Elizabeth, even though they both looked very sour and disapproving as they watched the dancing from a special raised dais. ‘What a shocking rabble,’ I heard Elizabeth murmur to Christina behind her feathered fan. ‘I should be ashamed to behave in such a way.’ I longed to say that perhaps she would be happier if she would only forget such silly inhibitions and join in with the fun but did not know how to. If she and Christina are happy being such dull, priggish snobs then that is their problem isn’t it?

Oh, I danced and danced, first with this gentleman and then with that and everywhere I went I heard a murmur of ‘There she goes, Marie Antoinette, the Dauphine!’ as people moved aside to let me pass and pretended not to stare. Old courtiers who have known me all my life came up to take my hands and kiss them, while wishing me good fortune for the future. Everyone looks so happy for me and yet at the same time a trifle wary as if there is something wrong, something missing from this fairytale.

‘They do not want you to leave,’ my brother Joseph murmured as we danced together later on. ‘You are the loveliest of the Archduchesses after all and the pride of Vienna.’

‘That is too kind.’ I blushed underneath my mask. ‘They hardly know me.’

‘There is regret that you are leaving so soon after your debut into society.’ He smiled down at me, my kindly, wonderful brother. ‘The French have all the luck, it seems.’

I squeezed his hand, suddenly anxious. ‘You will come and visit me?’ I asked. ‘I do not think I could bear it if I were never to see any of you ever again.’

‘Of course.’ His smile was non-committal but I believed him nonetheless. I had to.

After this, Charlotte, Frederike, Clementina and I went into a billowing pink silk pavillion that had been erected beneath the trees to act as a refreshment tent and took hot chocolate and coffee with huge dollops of fresh cream on top while sitting at a dainty little table. The other girls giggled and gossiped about the gentlemen of the court, while I pretended to listen but instead looked around the other tables, committing it all to memory. And it was at that moment that I spotted him.

‘I can’t believe that it is almost your wedding day,’ Frederike said with a dreamy smile. ‘You must be so excited, Antoinette.’

‘Mm, yes, I suppose so.’ I smiled at her, but my mind was elsewhere. Where had he gone? ‘Yes, it is very exciting.’ Ah, there he was. ‘Please, excuse me.’ I stood up and, ignoring their open mouthed, confused stares, hurried towards him, my pink silk skirts rustling.

He smiled then, his delicious lips curling underneath the mask as the hazel eyes that I would know anywhere crinkled with amusement. ‘Your Highness.’

‘Karl.’ I gave him my hand and he raised it slowly to his lips, while I stared at him, reminding myself how much my sister Amalia had loved this man. How much she loved him still.

‘I did not mean to come,’ he said with a wry look. ‘I wanted to stay away.’

‘I am glad that you are here,’ I replied, suddenly breathless. ‘I am always pleased to see you.’ I knew that people were staring at us, but I did not care. Let them look. In two days I would be married and we might never be alone like this again.

‘You look very beautiful.’ Again that rueful smile. ‘I always knew that you would be exquisite.’

I stopped breathing. ‘Did you?’ Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Christina coming towards us and I knew that I had to be quick. ‘Will you be at the French Ambassador’s ball tomorrow night?’ I asked.

He nodded. ‘I shall see you there?’

‘Yes.’

Christina was upon us. ‘Antoinette, Mama is asking for you.’ She did not look at Karl, did not even so much acknowledge his bow. ‘The fireworks are about to begin and she would like you at her side for them as she knows how much they delight you.’

‘Of course.’ Joseph had spared no expense and tonight’s display was to be one of the greatest ever seen in Vienna, in all of Austria even. I did not want to miss it for anything. ‘I shall come with you now.’ I turned back towards Karl but he had already gone.

This afternoon I made my way with my ladies in waiting down the stairs to one of the huge state reception rooms of the Hofburg, there to stand before all of the court and renounce all claim to the Hapsburg inheritance of my ancestors. I felt very small and very young before them all, my hair covered with a heavy lace veil and my voice shaking and wavering as I solemnly repeated the oath that meant that myself, my husband and our future children would never lay claim to the Holy Roman Empire.

‘I, Marie Antoinette Josèphe Jeanne…’ I sounded like a child and my hand shook as I took the red feathered quill from Joseph and signed the huge document that was spread out on the table before me.

Afterwards I knelt before my mother so that my blue and gold taffeta skirts fell gracefully across the parquet and closed my eyes as she kissed my forehead, her lips cool and dry against my skin.

There is to be a huge supper and ball tonight at the Belvedere Palace to celebrate.

Lent is over once again and we are gorging ourselves on hot chocolate and cakes . It is always hard for me to practise restraint when it comes to the sweet things in life but this year has been particularly difficult.

Of course, now that life has returned to normal, it is time to prepare for my wedding on the nineteenth which is only, oh my heart beats faster and my head spins whenever I think about it, four days away. My dress is finished, presents are starting to arrive from all over Europe and the final details of my triumphant journey to France have been completed.

Today there was Mass followed by a huge reception in the state rooms of the Hofburg. Everyone was in attendance as Durfort was due to make a grand entrance to mark his promotion from mere Ambassador to the far more grandiose Ambassador Extraordinary. He left court three days ago with a great deal of bowing and scraping to all and sundry before re-entering the capital yesterday at the head of an enormous cavalcade and today he is due to return garbed in what is reportedly a new magnificent suit of embroidered purple silk with gold rosettes everywhere and enormous ostrich feathers on his hat.

I stood beside my mother and Joseph, smiling and bowing my head gracefully in response to all the courtiers who filed past to kiss our hands and wish us a happy Easter. I find that I am paying a lot of attention now to how I look to others and often glance at myself in the huge gilt framed mirrors that line the walls to check how I tilt my head or smile, keen to appear as the most perfect princess ever. I know that I am not beautiful but I am told that my face is charming and it is amazing what can be achieved with the help of lovely clothes, high heeled shoes, diamonds and carefully styled and powdered hair.

Clementina and Anna had positioned themselves by the tall windows so as to have a view across the courtyard, they both turned and, stifling their giggles, nodded at me when Durfort pulled up with his forty eight painted and gilt embellished carriages, each drawn by six of the finest horses in Vienna and with a stiff backed postillion perched on the back, lavishly dressed in the finest livery. Yes, forty eight. Really, the vainglory and arrogance of the man knows no bounds. He may well protest that it is all intended to reflect the glory and grandeur of his master, the King of France but we all know the truth – that it is intended to reflect his glory alone. Silly, pompous, puffed up little man.

He entered in great state, preceeded and followed by a train of dozens of pages, all dressed to match him in purple silk with gold embroidery, their high heeled polished shoes tapping on the wooden parquet and their sly eyes roving here and there about the assembled courtiers. They parted to allow Durfort through as he doffed his enormous black, feathered hat and bowed several times to my mother and brother. I hid my smile behind my painted ivory handled fan as his eyes slid over me and he accorded me the merest of bows.

‘You are welcome to our court, Monsieur,’ my mother said politely, protocol requiring that she go along with the absurd charade that he had returned to France in order to gain his promotion and had only just come back when the truth is that he had retreated to his estate on the outskirts of Vienna for a couple of days.

‘Your Majesty is most kind and gracious.’ Durfort bowed again. ‘I have in my possession a gift from my master, his Majesty the King of France for your august daughter, her Royal Highness the Archduchess Marie Antoinette.’ He clicked his fingers and two of the pages sprang forward, one carrying a small wooden box while the other held what was clearly a painting beneath a large piece of cloth of gold.

‘I thank you.’ I stepped forward and took the box, wondering what embarrassing surprise lay within. ‘Your master is most kind to think of me.’ I opened the box to find a miniature of the Dauphin, this time dressed to impress in blue watered silk and covered with a plethora of sashes and decorations. ‘He looks very kind.’ I lifted out the miniature, which was surrounded by fine diamonds and immediately pinned it to my dress, while a gentle ripple of applause passed through the assembled company.

The other page came forward with the painting, which Durfort uncovered with a great deal of flourish. As expected this portrait was also of my fiancé, this time dressed in crimson velvet with a blue sash tied across his broad chest. He looked handsome but kindly with sleepy blue eyes that gazed out upon the world almost apathetically, a big nose and a chin that was less decisive than I would have liked but would have to do.

‘May I hang this portrait in my room until it is time for me to leave?’ I asked with a pretty smile. ‘We have been betrothed for a long time now without having seen each other and I should like to have my future husband close to me during these final days in Vienna.’

My mother smiled her approval and rubbed her plump, white hands together. ‘Of course, of course.’ She came forward and looked at the Dauphin’s portrait, taking a pince nez from her jet embroidered reticule so as to examine him more thoroughly, this son in law that she might never meet. ‘Hm, I don’t think much of his chin,’ she murmured in an aside to Joseph, who peered closely then nodded. ‘This one is clearly not going to be a man of action and I fear that our little Antoinette will have trouble getting him to make decisions.’

Joseph shrugged and turned away. ‘So long as he is a man in the bedchamber, who cares if he is also a man in the salon?’

I blushed to hear them speak this way and made a great show of looking at the portrait so that Durfort would not think that I too was criticising the prince. ‘Thank you,’ I said, tracing the Dauphin’s painted and much maligned chin with my finger. ‘I think he looks very nice.’

Durfort bowed, his face expressionless. ‘There is also a letter, your Highness,’ he said, pulling a large white envelope from within his splendid coat. ‘Monsieur le Dauphin is keen to express his very true love and esteem towards you and hopes that you will look with favour upon his words.’ He handed me the letter, which was tied with silver ribbon and sealed with a large red seal in the shape of a dolphin.

‘Thank you.’ I held the letter awkwardly, unsure as to whether I was supposed to open it immediately or save it for later, when I was finally alone. It was a love letter after all, surely? I stared at my name ‘Antoinette‘ on the front, written in a flowing elegant hand that was alien to me but which would surely become more familiar with time. I imagined the prince sitting at his desk, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully inscribed the name of his future wife upon the ivory envelope. I wondered what he thought of me, so far away and yet so intimately linked.

‘I shall save it for later,’ I said shyly, not getting any guidance from my mother as to what to do now. ‘I do not think it seemly to open a love letter in public.’ There was laughter then and I saw that I had said just the right thing. Everyone knew that this match had been arranged, that it was a matter of state alone and that we had never so much as set eyes on each other but no one wanted to think about it. If they could pretend to themselves that the Dauphin and I were in love then so much the better for us all.

‘Ah,’ said my mother with what was almost a coquettish smile and wink at Durfort, ‘love is in the air.’

I have spent the last three days sequestered alone at Schönbrunn with only the Abbé and my thoughts for company. I have given more thought and consideration in the last few days to the state of my frail flesh and immortal soul than at any other time in my life and you may rest assured that if some tragic accident were to overtake me between now and my marriage then I would be fully prepared and ready to meet my maker in my present virgin state.

Do I feel cleansed of sin and more spiritual? It remains to be seen, although I have to say that I am so bored now with prayer and worthy introspection that I am almost tempted to misbehave, just to feel myself again.

I am not sure that I like the Antoinette that they want to send to Versailles.

It has been decided that I will spend the first three days of April closeted alone with Abbé Vermond for a period of silent reflection, lectures about spirituality and prayer. It sounds thoroughly dismal, although my dear Abbé has promised to keep his lectures short and to the point. He could not promise, however, to make them amusing.

I am still sleeping in Mama’s bedroom and the nightly lectures continue. I do not know what sort of terrible moral degradation she expects me to fall into when I am living in Versailles but there is a heavy emphasis on morality, faithfulness, marital duties and not allowing my head to be turned by the shallow and self serving flattery of my social inferiors.

Every night I fall asleep, my head aching horribly after listening to her talk and in the morning I am woken early as she flings aside her coverlets and causes a cascade of state papers to fall to the floor as she is in the habit of working while in bed and cares nothing for the splashes of ink and red sealing wax that cover her fine linen sheets. My mother never stops working, even in her sleep she mumbles to herself about the Prussians. I suspect that even I appear to her as a sort of project, as something that needs to be sorted out and dealt with like a particularly troublesome edict or treaty.

This morning she presented me with a large bundle of papers, all tied up with pink velvet ribbon and sealed shut with the Imperial seal. ‘I have taken the precaution of writing down some thoughts for you to read when you are away from home,’ she said, handing me the bundle. ‘I have included the rules that I expect you to abide by in your new life, some advice about suitable modes of behaviour and also lists of the people that you will be permitted to correspond with once you are installed at Versailles.’

‘Thank you.’ I looked down at the letter and gulped. She had clearly spent many hours putting it together.

‘I expect you to read it once a month, in order to focus your mind on your duties and strengthen your purpose against the many temptations that will assail you.’ She briefly touched my hair. ‘I have wondered if perhaps it is too soon for you to be going away from me but I know, Antoinette, that you will make me very proud.’ I quickly looked up at her face and saw a doubt and uncertainty in her blue eyes that contrasted sharply with her words. My mother had never been uncertain about anything, ever. Until now and about me, it would seem.

‘I will do my best, Mama,’ I whispered, not knowing how else to reassure her. How could I ever tell her, or anyone else, how young and unprepared and insignificant I felt when confronted by the hugeness and magnificence of my projected destiny? I tried to imagine the weight of a crown upon my small head and could not.

‘I want you to do better than that,’ she replied rather curtly, turning away.

Oh dear. I was sitting with my dear Vermond in my little school room when a terrible bustle outside the door warned us that we were about to be interrupted. To be honest, I did not mind in the slightest as he was talking to me about that unsavoury wench, Catherine dei Medici and I did not care to hear anything more. There was a knock on the door and we looked at each other with wry smiles, wondering what it was this time. More presents perhaps?

‘Your highness,’ the footman paused and cleared his throat. He was very young and had bright red hair underneath his neatly clipped and powdered wig. ‘Your Imperial mother requests your presence in her apartments.’

I sighed and stood up, shaking out my sadly crumpled black silk skirts. ‘I will be there directly.’ I looked at Vermond. ‘It is always going to be like this from now on isn’t it?’ I said a little regretfully. There is less than a month to go now before I am married and after that I do not think we will ever be left alone together again.

I anxiously wrung my pearl bracelets around my wrists as I followed the footman down the stairs and through the numerous white and gold panelled rooms that led to my mother’s reception room. The pearls clicked against each other, beating time as my high heels tip tapped on the polished wooden floors.

I longed to ask him if he knew what was happening but dared not as I did not wish to appear foolish and the pity that I sometimes saw in the eyes of those around me, which was always swiftly hidden as soon as they realised that my gaze was upon them was not something that I wanted to see directly. I do not know why they feel so sorry for me. Possibly they think me too young, too innocent to be sent away from home. Possibly they know something that I do not.

The Swiss Guards swung the doors open and the footman stood aside, bowing his head reverently as I passed by and stepped into the room, looking around me anxiously before I swiftly lowered my gaze. There were only a dozen people present besides my mother, Joseph, my sisters and Durfort so not the huge court gathering that I had been afraid of. My mother has a bad habit of springing such things upon us – remember Amalia’s betrothal?

‘My dearest one,’ Mama greeted me fondly and kissed me on both cheeks. ‘Monsieur de Durfort has something for you.’ She beckoned him forward and smiled on us both as he stepped towards me carrying a thin red leather box stamped with a large gold fleur de lis, symbol of France.

‘My master, the King has sent this for you.’ He handed me the box and they all held their breath and leaned forward, waiting for me to open it. My hands trembled as I opened the lid, my mind racing as I imagined what lay inside. What could it be? I could hardly contain my excitement.

‘He hopes that you like it.’ Something in his voice made me look up and I realised at once, from his smirk, that he already knew what lay inside and furthermore, he knew that I would not like it.

I would show him. I proudly put back my shoulders and lifted the lid, not allowing a single trace of disappointment to cross my face as I looked down at a black and white engraving of a portly young man pushing a plough, a look of intense concentration on his chubby face. ‘Monsieur le Dauphin,’ it said underneath. There could be no doubt that firstly, this was my intended husband and secondly, someone somewhere in France wanted to insult me and was using Durfort as their proxy.

‘How charming.’ My lips formed a smile of purest pleasure and I forced myself to look him in the eyes. ‘He looks very handsome and just as a young man should be. I look forward to meeting him.’

Durfort did not trouble to hide his chagrin and turned immediately away, while I exchanged a look and a wink with Joseph. It will take more than such childishness to break my spirit.