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the flaws.’
‘What flaws?’ Nicolas echoed what I thought. What could possibly make the drawing of me better than it was?
‘There are two things I have thought on looking at the designs, and doubtless Jean Le Viste will have other suggestions.’
‘What two things?’
‘There are to be six tapestries lining the walls of the Grande Salle, n'est-ce pas ? Two large ones, four slightly smaller.’
‘Yes.’
‘And they're following the Lady's seduction of the unicorn, n'est-ce pas ?’
‘As I agreed with Monseigneur.’
‘The seduction is clear enough, but I wondered if you have not concealed something else within the designs. Another way of looking at them.’
Nicolas' feet shifted about. ‘What do you mean?’
‘There seem to me to be here suggestions of the five senses.’ Léon tapped on one of the drawings, the sound drumming close to my ear. ‘The Lady playing the organ for the unicorn, suggesting Sound, for instance. And holding the unicorn by the horn is surely Touch. Here —’ he tapped the table again — ‘the Lady weaves carnations into a crown for Smell, though that is perhaps not as obvious.’
‘Brides wear crowns of carnations,’ Nicolas explained. ‘The Lady is tempting the unicorn with the idea of marriage and the marriage bed. It's not meant to mean Smell.’
‘Ah. Well, I suppose you're not that clever. The senses are an accident, then.’
‘I —’
‘But do you see that you could easily weave in the senses? Have the unicorn sniff the carnation. Or another animal. And in the tapestry where the unicorn lies in the Lady's lap, you could have her show him a mirror, for Sight.’
‘But that would make the unicorn seem vain, wouldn't it?’
‘So? The unicorn does look a bit vain.’
Nicolas didn't answer. Perhaps he heard me under the table, snorting with laughter at him and his unicorn.
‘Now, you have the Lady holding the unicorn's horn, that is Touch. Playing the organ, that is Sound. The carnations, that is Smell. The mirror, that is Sight. What is left? Taste. We have two tapestries left — those of Claude and Dame Geneviève.’
Maman? What did Léon mean?
Nicolas made a funny sound, like a snort and a cry together. ‘What do you mean, Claude and Dame Geneviève?’
‘Come, you know exactly what I mean. That was my other suggestion. The likenesses are too apparent. Jean Le Viste won't like that. I know you are used to painting portraits, but in the final paintings you must make them look more like the other ladies.’
‘Why?’
‘Jean Le Viste wanted battle tapestries. Instead you have given him his wife and daughter to look at. There is no comparison.’
‘He agreed to the unicorn tapestries.’
‘But you don't have to give him an ode to his wife and daughter. Now, I do have sympathy for Dame Geneviève. Jean Le Viste is not an easy man. But you know that she and Claude are thorns in his side. He wouldn't want them depicted in something as valuable as the tapestries.’
‘Oh!’ I cried, and this time I did knock my head against the tabletop. It hurt.
There were surprised grunts, then two faces appeared beneath the table. Léon was glaring, but Nicolas smiled when he saw it was me. He held out his hand and helped me up.
‘Thank you,’ I said when I was standing. Nicolas bowed over my hand, but I pulled my hand away before he could kiss it, and made a show of straightening my dress. I wasn't quite ready to forgive him the rude things he had said about my father.
‘What were you doing there, you naughty girl?’ Oncle Léon said. For a moment I thought he was going to swat me as if I were the same age as Petite Geneviève, but he seemed to remember himself and didn't. ‘Your father would be very angry if he knew you had been spying on us.’
‘My father would be very angry if he knew what you said about him, Oncle Léon. And you, Monsieur,’ I added, glancing at Nicolas.
There was a silence. I could see both men thinking back to their earlier words, trying to remember