Book details:
Book Title: Courting the Sun: A Novel of Versailles
Series: n/a
Author: Peggy Joque Williams
Publication Date: May 9th, 2024
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Pages:389
Any Triggers: Rape Scene, Spousal Abuse
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France, 1670. On her sixteenth birthday, Sylvienne d’Aubert thinks her dream has come true. She holds in her hands an invitation from King Louis XIV to attend his royal court. However, her mother harbors a longtime secret she's kept from both her daughter and the monarch, a secret that could upend Sylvienne’s life.
In Paris, Sylvienne is quickly swept up in the romance, opulence, and excitement of royal life. Assigned to serve King Louis's favorite mistress, she is absorbed into the monarch's most intimate circle. But the naïve country girl soon finds herself ill-prepared for the world of intrigue, illicit affairs, and power-mongering that takes place behind the shiny façade of Versailles.
This debut historical novel from Peggy Joque Williams captures the vibrancy and quandaries of 17th century life for a village girl seeking love and excitement during the dangerous reign of the Sun King.
Black Rose Writing: https://www.blackrosewriting.com/historicaladventure/courtingthesun
Carufel had said he would fetch me that evening for dinner, the grand couvert. I asked Tatie to help me with the azure gown I had worn that morning.
“No, Mademoiselle!” Lisette looked horrified. “A lady must never wear the same gown for dinner she wore in the morning.”
A new rule. “The rose-colored one then?”
She nodded, satisfied, and helped me dress again. She was putting the finishing touches to my hair when we heard the knock at the door.
“That must be Monsieur Carufel,” Tatie said, folding my day clothes.
“Let him in.” I gazed into the looking glass Lisette held for me, aware of my many flaws. When I turned to greet Carufel, I saw it was Oncle who entered, wearing yet another change of clothing, this time a deep blue velvet. I hid my disgruntlement.
“Dinner is with the royal family tonight.” He attempted to buss me on the cheek.
I sidestepped. “That is what I am told.”
“Excellent, excellent.” But his look was critical. “Are you wearing that?”
“Is something wrong with my dress?”
“It’s rather…bucolic. Don’t you think?” His attention drifted. I realized his eyes were trailing Lisette as she moved about. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips before he turned back to me. “Are you expecting Carufel?”
“He is to escort me to the Queen’s dining room.” I was the one distracted now, noticing Tatie had positioned herself between Oncle and Lisette.
Another rap on the door.
“That must be him,” Oncle said. “I will accompany you, of course.”
Lisette scurried to open the door and immediately dipped into a curtsy. Yet again it was not Carufel, but a much taller man who stepped through the door. He wore a black wig cascading with curls and ribbons, several strands of pearls around his neck, and matching pearl drop earrings. A large circle of cerise powder highlighted each cheek, and his lips were colored with a bright red cream that matched the red of his waistcoat and breeches. Oncle coughed to hide his snigger. Tatie stared wide-eyed but managed a quick curtsy.
The visitor lifted a lace-cuffed hand to his chin and regarded me, his finger tapping a black velvet beauty patch affixed to his cheek. “You look nothing like I remember her.” His voice dripped with disappointment.
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
It was then I realized who he was. I dropped into a deep curtsy. “Monsieur!” I addressed King Louis’s brother with the title he was known by at court. When he bade me rise, I added, “She told me I favor my father.”
“Then he must be a rakishly handsome fellow. It translates well into the female form.”
I felt the all-too-familiar heat rising to my cheeks.
Oncle stepped forward. “And you are…?” His voice startled me into an introduction.
“Oncle Claude, this is Monsieur le Duc d’Orléans—Prince Philippe.”
Oncle’s eyes went wide. He quickly bowed from the waist. “Monsieur. I apologize. Claude d’Aubert, at your service. La demoiselle’s uncle and chaperone.”
“Hmm.” Philippe’s gaze swept over him dismissively. To me he said, “Perhaps you would allow me to accompany you to dinner. I am curious to get to know la jeune cousine of whom my brother is so enamored.” He extended an arm.
Unable to hide my delight, I placed my fingers on his wrist, just the tips, as I had seen the courtiers do. “You are very kind.” I batted my eyelashes at him, attempting to mimic the ladies of the court.
He laughed, moving my hand to the crook of his arm. “There is no need to play the coquette, ma chérie. You will garner more attention from the men here than you’ll know what to do with just by being yourself. And cause extreme vexation among the ladies.”
Outside my door stood a crowd of courtiers waiting for Monsieur. A man with a mustache and long golden curls draping his shoulders leaned against the far wall looking studiously bored. The women in the group eyed me warily, dipping in the slightest of curtsies, while the men bowed with exaggerated pomp.
“I present to you…” Prince Philippe flourished his hand in dramatic fashion. “Ma cousine, Mademoiselle Sylvienne.”
“Bonsoir, Mademoiselle!” The men’s voices rang out in eager greetings.
All except the one still leaning against the wall. His voice was an insolent drawl. “I suppose she’s pretty enough. Will likely get eaten alive at court.”
Monsieur swatted at the man’s head as we passed. “No naughtiness, Lorraine.”
The courtiers fell into step behind us, crowding out my uncle. The man called Lorraine let several moments pass before pushing himself away from the wall and following.
Unlike Carufel, who always hastened to get from one location to another, the Prince preferred to stroll. Obviously aware of all eyes on him, he treated our journey through the palace as a pageant, he and I in the lead, his devotees trailing like bright peacocks.
Carufel, waiting at the door of Queen Marie-Thérèse’s dining chamber, bowed as we approached. “Mademoiselle Sylvienne will sit with the royal family,” he said. Then, pointing to a door further down, “Monsieur d’Aubert, you are welcome to join those who wish to observe.”
Oncle, affronted, complained, “I am her uncle, her chaperone. She is my charge.”
“Oui. But she is cousin to the King. You are not.”
“A rich journey through 17th century France in all its aspects—its bucolic countryside, the still-unmatched splendor of the court of Louis XIV, and the struggling French colony in Canada.”~ Margaret George, New York Times bestselling author of Elizabeth I, The Autobiography of Henry VIII & The Memoirs of Cleopatra
Peggy Joque Williams is the author of Courting the Sun: A Novel of Versailles and co-author of two mystery novels, On the Road to Death’s Door and On the Road to Where the Bells Toll, written under the penname M. J. Williams. She is an alumnus of Michigan State University and the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
A retired elementary school teacher and avid researcher, Peggy's fascination with genealogy and her French-Canadian, European, and Native American ancestry inspires her historical fiction. She lives in Madison, Wisconsin.
Author Links:
Website: https://peggywilliamsauthor.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/peggyjoque/
Threads: https://www.threads.net/@peggyjoque
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Peggy-Joque-Williams/author/B0CV7S8M24
Tour hosted by: The Coffee Pot Book Club
Thank you for hosting my book, Courting the Sun, and including an excerpt. What a wonderful website and blog you have!
Thank you so much for hosting Peggy Joque Williams today, with an enticing excerpt from her new novel, Courting the Sun. Take care, Cathie xx The Coffee Pot Book Club