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Prologue Paris 1775 Michèle Lambert didn’t see the carriage until it was too late. Excited to be home again, she darted in and out of traffic, her gaze fixed on the serpentine river snaking a path through the heart of her beloved city. For twenty years, she had dreamed of returning home. To Paris . To Chateau Marmont. Twenty long years of suffering in silence, stoically sharing her mother’s exile in the drab, gray, soot-covered city of London. Twenty long years replaying memories from her gilded childhood. Memories of bright summer afternoons spent lounging in the pleasure gardens at Palais Royale. Nestled between her mother and her uncle, she would sip lemonade and watch the entertainers perform. Acrobats, musicians, jugglers and mimes entertained the crowd of aristocrats. Memories of crisp winter days spent catching lacy snowflakes on her tongue or skating on the pond at Chateau Marmont. Sometimes, her mother would snap off an icicle hanging from the slate roof and proclaim her the S...