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It’s my family’s priceless heirloom, which has been handed down from generation to generation for more than two hundred years. Even my name is yours – Mathilde, though everyone calls me Tilly.’
    Both girls stared at the matching pendants: one shining, one scarred.
    ‘Mon Dieu,’ murmured Amelie, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘’Tis impossible.’
    ‘I know it’s impossible,’ replied Tilly. ‘But somehow, by some magic, I’ve come back in time two centuries. It must be something to do with the ruby pendant.
    ‘The night before, I was wearing the pendant but took it off before I went to sleep, and I dreamt about you. I saw you practising your curtseys with your aunt, and I saw you at a ball, where you met your cousin, Henri, and the Chevalier.’
    Amelie blushed a deep red at the thought that Tilly had seen and heard her conversations with her cousin and intended fiancé.
    ‘That all happened a few weeks ago, not recently,’ Amelie declared.
    Tilly nodded. ‘Then last night, or tonight – whatever it is – I fell asleep wearing the rubies, and when I woke up I was here.’
    ‘Oui, I too fell asleep wearing the rubies, which I never usually do,’ agreed Amelie. ‘But I wanted to feel closer to my maman and papa.’
    Amelie felt she had said too much and climbed out of bed. She scampered to the window, drawing back the heavy silk drapes. Tilly followed her, curious to see what lay outside.
    The view was awe-inspiring. Immediately below was a huge terrace and a grand staircase leading down to the formal, geometric gardens and lake. The grounds were vast, stretching from the meticulous design of topiaries, statues, fountains, clipped hedges, gravel paths and lawns, away to artificial lakes and woodland.
    Mist hovered over the waterways and trees, and the grounds were shadowy in the dawn light.
    ‘It is early. Do you want to go for a walk? I can show you Versailles. My aunt and uncle were at a ball last night and will not wake for hours. We could go and visit my horse. My uncle gave her to me so I could go riding with the Chevalier. She is beautiful. I call her Angelique.’
    Tilly frowned. ‘I don’t think we should – the Revolution – it might be dangerous.’
    Amelie huffed with disbelief. ‘Do not be ludicrous. I told you there are hundreds of highly trained Swiss Guards protecting the palace. The King is so sure of his safety that commoners are allowed to traipse right into his very bedroom.’
    Tilly glanced out the window at the serenity of the grounds. Curiosity won over fear. She nodded enthusiastically. It would be wonderful to walk around eighteenth-century Versailles and see what it was really like.
    ‘But first we must dress you,’ suggested Amelie. ‘My clothes should fit, although you are taller than me. I hope the skirts do not reveal too much of your ankle.’
    In the corner of the room was a large armoire, which held most of Amelie’s clothes. Amelie rummaged through the linens and silks to find what she needed. She gave Tilly a pile of clothes and instructed her to change behind the bed curtains. Tilly was confused by the array of items.
    Amelie saw her face and laughed.
    ‘This is the informal morning dress,’ Amelie assured her. ‘The court dresses are much harder to put on, especially with the big, wide panniers. It took me a while to get used to it. At the convent we wore very simple gowns. This is the chemise – put that on first, then I will help you.’
    The chemise was a linen shift that came to mid-calf. This was followed by silk stockings that were tied over the knee with coloured tape, and an underskirt.
    ‘What about undies?’ asked Tilly. ‘I mean drawers ... or pantaloons – whatever you call them.’
    Amelie looked at Tilly blankly. ‘I do not know what you mean.’
    ‘Doesn’t matter, I’ll wear my own,’ replied Tilly hurriedly.
    Next was a pair of stays, which the girls had to help each other lace up at the back.
    ‘It’s too tight,’