Louis the Well-Beloved by Jean Plaidy Page B

especially as she was destined for the throne.
    She and Louis were together at the revelries which were given in honour of the Spanish ambassador, and one day there was a special firework display which Louis and Maria Anna watched together.
    Maria Anna squealed with pleasure and bounded up and down in her seat. She looked so young, so excited, that for a moment she reminded Louis of his lost kitten.
    ‘Louis,’ she cried, ‘Look at the fireworks. Oh . . . so lovely! Do you like them, Louis?’
    She was accustomed to chattering to him and receiving no answer, so when he looked at her, smiled and said ‘Yes’, she was startled.
    She turned to him, her eyes wide with excitement, as a smile of the utmost pleasure spread across her face. She got up, she ran to the nearest official, caught his knee and tried to shake him. She then jumped up and down in great excitement.
    ‘Did you hear?’ she demanded. ‘Louis spoke to me . . . At last he has smiled and spoken to me.’

    Soon after the arrival of the Infanta, one of Louis’ dearest wishes was granted. He was allowed to leave Paris for Versailles.
    This afforded him great pleasure. It meant, to some degree, an escape from the people. Versailles was a little too far from the capital for them to come each day to the château. Perhaps this was one of the reasons why he loved the place so much.
    But it was not the only one. The beauty of Versailles had enchanted him from the moment he had seen it. He had inherited from Louis Quatorze his interest in and love of architecture. He was delighted therefore to see again that most magnificent of all his châteaux rising before him with its façades in that delightful stone which was the colour of honey; the fountain playing in the sunshine, the exquisite statuary, the beauty of the avenues, the charm of the gardens – every flower, every stone of this palace delighted him as it had the great-grandfather who had created it.
    It did not matter that beside him rode the five-year-old girl whose exuberance and hero-worship he found so annoying. Let her bounce on her seat, let her chatter away. He would not look at her; he would not answer her. He would only think: I have come home . . . home to Versailles. And never again, if he could have his way, would he leave it.
    Louis occupied the state bedroom of his great-grandfather, with the council chamber on one side and the oeil-de-boeuf on the other. He did not greatly like this bedroom, for it was big and draughty; moreover he would always remember being brought here by Madame de Ventadour when he had seen the old King for the last time. But it was good enough to be here. He was learning to be philosophical. He would not ask for too much. Later he would choose his own bedroom, his own suite of rooms. But that would be when he had grown out of this restricting childhood.
    Now there was a Court once more at Versailles and, because the King was too young to lead it, it must be led by the Regent. Philippe was growing older and less inclined for adventure. The gay happenings assigned to him were rather of the imagination than actual, but he did not mind this. He had no wish to lose his reputation as one of the foremost rakes in France.
    This meant however that the young people of the Court took their cue from what they believed the Regent to be, and promiscuity became the order of the day.
    This state of affairs came to its zenith when an orgy which had taken place in the park of Versailles itself came to the notice of the public.
    Here many of the young men from the noblest houses in France appeared dressed as women; but the orgy was not confined to the practice of perversion; men and women sported on the grass and made love in the shadow of the trees – while many did not even look for shadow.
    Madame, the Regent’s mother, called on him the day following that on which these scenes had taken place.
    ‘They have gone too far,’ she told him. ‘In Paris people are talking of nothing else.