However, this man? This man looked like the type of man who played polo. Who scrutinized the wine list at fancy restaurants. Who owned more than one tuxedo. Who waltzed for fun.

She took his offered elbow, and he walked her toward the magnificent arch of double doors into the building. It was a grand entrance, even though it wasn’t the main one. The second she went through, she inhaled the scent of cinnamon and cloves. The air was sparkling with excitement, the candles and chandeliers fully lit. Diana gaped up at one of them that had to have been bigger than her bedroom back on Long Island. “Golly,” she breathed.

He laughed, “That is a common reaction.”

She gazed at the tapestries and paintings adorning the rich red velvet wallpaper, the gilded fixtures and sconces, the marble floors. The hallway was an explosion of color—even the ceiling a work of art though it almost felt as if it were miles above her. Everywhere, there was something amazing to see. “You have been here many times?”

“Oui,” he said with a smile. “My family goes way back to the age of the French monarchy. Ours served the last king.”

“Really?” Like Stéphane’s family. Yes, he was different, but she couldn’t help wondering everything about him, just like she’d been with her first love. “I’m Diana.”

He stopped, gently took her hand, and kissed it. As he did, his eyes never left hers. “I am Lucien Beauchamp, cómte de Monteil de Saint-Quentin. You can call me Luc. It is a great pleasure to meet you, the most beautiful woman in the palace tonight.”

The goosebumps everywhere on her body became mountains. “Oh.”

He then extended his arm to her, leading her to the great ballroom as if he’d traveled these halls many times before. Even so, he stopped to allow her to see everything and offered tidbits of helpful information, like a tour guide. He stopped in front of a picture of a lady in a white wig and a beautiful blue-gray gown, holding a delicate rose. “There is a portrait of the lady herself, Marie Antoinette. One of many in the palace. There are over 60,000 pieces of artwork on the grounds. No doubt you saw the many Greco-Roman sculptures outside?”

“I did,” she said, pausing to look at an elaborate gilded clock. “I found the Fountain of Apollo breathtaking.”

“Yes, it is. It was much less so during the rule of Louis XIII. His son, the Sun King, added the gilded lead representing Apollo on his chariot, during his rule. The work of the sculptor Jean-Baptiste Tuby is quite magnificent.” He pointed to the clock. “That clock was designed by Claude-Simeon Passemant, clockmaker extraordinaire, who is responsible for many of the timepieces in the palace. The rococo style is obviously evident, being a favorite of Louis XIV.”

“I see,” she said, even though she really didn’t. “You know so much about this palace.”

“Yes. It’s like a second home to me,” he said, guiding her to a massive foyer. From there, the lilting music of a waltz filled the air. He led her though a set of massive double doors into the ballroom, the legendary Hall of Mirrors.