The Road to Compiegne by Jean Plaidy Page A

Griffet preaching his sermons at Versailles – I am uneasy. The determination of Paris almost to canonise Madame de Mailly does not make life easier for me. Do you not see that it is all part of the plot against me? They wish to bring Louis to a repentant mood, to make him review his life – and my part in it – and see it as a deadly sin in his life. They want to bring him to such a state of repentance that he will have no alternative but to dismiss me from Court.’
    ‘Dismiss you! He could not do it. Whom does he turn to when he is tired and bored? To you . . . always you.’
    ‘Yet he dismissed Madame de Châteauroux when he was at Metz.’
    ‘That was because he thought he was dying and in imminent need of repentance.’
    ‘The life of the King’s mistress is full of hazards, dear Hausset. Yet the life of the King’s dearest friend and confidante , who was not his mistress, could, I believe, be a very pleasant one.’
    ‘It terrifies me,’ murmured Madame du Hausset.
    ‘And now we are back at that point where we started.’
    ‘And His Majesty is with your enemies; they are telling him that Madame de Mailly was a saint, that he should be repentant. That although her soul has been washed white over years of piety, his is stained with his recently committed sins.’
    ‘Poor Louis, they will make him very melancholy.’
    ‘They’ll drive him to repentance.’
    ‘It is possible that his melancholy will be so great that he is ready to employ any means to disperse it. If that is so, we shall hear him mounting the stairs to my apartment.’
    ‘And you will comfort him.’
    ‘I and another. Have you prepared her?’
    Madame du Hausset nodded.
    ‘How does she look?’
    ‘Pert.’
    ‘And pretty – very pretty?’
    ‘She looks what she is – a serving-slut.’
    Madame de Pompadour laughed. ‘That, my dear Hausset, is exactly how I would have her look. I believe I am right. Listen! Do you hear footsteps on the stairs?’
    ‘He is coming,’ cried Madame du Hausset; and her face was illumined by a smile. ‘Try as they might,’ she muttered, ‘they would never keep him from you.’

    ‘I arranged that we should be alone,’ she told him, smiling gently. ‘I guessed your mood. Hausset of course is in her little alcove room.’
    Louis nodded. ‘I cannot forget Louise-Julie,’ he confessed. ‘Memories assail me continually. She was living in that poor place, and I hear that she had not enough to feed her servants adequately.’
    ‘Doubtless she was happy.’
    ‘Happy, in such a condition?’
    ‘She was a saint, we hear. Saints are happy. They do not ask for worldly possessions. They only ask to mortify their flesh and do service to others. She was happy, happier than you are now, so you have nothing with which to reproach yourself.’
    He looked at her and smiled. ‘You were always my comforter.’
    She took his hand and kissed it. ‘I would ask nothing more than to continue so for the rest of my life.’
    ‘My dear, is it not significant that in this mood of depression I must come to you, and when I have been with you but a few minutes I feel my spirits rising?’
    ‘May it always be so. Will you do something to please me? I have had a little supper prepared – for the two of us only. We will eat bourgeoises tonight if you will have it so. And while we eat I would have you forget Madame de Mailly, but only after you are reassured that there is nothing with which you could reproach yourself. You made her happy while she was with you by your favour ; and afterwards she made herself happy by her exemplary life. What a fortunate lady she was! Hers must have been one of the happiest lives ever lived.’
    ‘I cannot forget the way she looked at me when I dismissed her from Court.’
    ‘She would have understood. It was her sister, Madame de Châteauroux, who dismissed her – not you.’
    ‘It was I who spoke the words. She looked at me with anguish in her eyes and then she looked away because she