knew that her sorrow would give me pain.’
‘Come, I am going to have supper brought to us. I have a new maid – the prettiest creature you ever saw. I am eager for your opinion of her.’
‘My opinion?’
She laughed. ‘It is amusing, is it not – the King of France to give his opinion of a humble serving-maid? But . . . she is innocent at the moment, yet if ever I saw a wanton it is that girl.’ She rose and called to Madame du Hausset. ‘His Majesty is supping with me. We shall be alone. Is all ready?’
‘Yes, Madame.’
‘Then will Your Majesty come to the table? I have had it set in one of the anterooms. It would be more cosy there, I thought.’
‘You have a surprise for me,’ said the King. ‘My dear Marquise, it is so like you to seek to divert me.’
‘This little diversion meets your Majesty’s needs tonight rather than a grand entertainment. Moreover had I planned a masque or a play, Père Griffet would have railed against me more than ever.’
‘He has certainly brought an air of melancholy to us . . . but perhaps we need it.’
The Marquise had led him into the small room and they had sat down.
She signed to Madame du Hausset, and the serving-girl appeared.
The Marquise, watching intently, saw the immediate interest in the King’s face. She had known that this girl, with the peculiar mingling of innocence and sensuality, could not fail to inspire it. She had chosen wisely. So far her plan could succeed, but she must act with the utmost wariness. Madame de Pompadour must retain her dignity. She must not appear as the King’s pander. Everything that followed must be gracious and performed with the utmost delicacy.
The girl showed no awe of the King. She bent over him as she served him; she smiled her innocent yet sensual smile. Louis patted her arm and the Marquise noticed that his hands lingered on the girl.
When she had gone, the Marquise said: ‘You must forgive her. She does not know who you are. She has never been to Versailles before. Louis, I am going to ask a favour.’
‘It is granted,’ he told her.
‘You would say that before you have heard what it is?’
‘My wish is to please you. I sincerely hope that it will be in my power to grant this favour.’
‘I wish to leave this apartment.’
He was surprised. They had planned its decorations together; it was a delightful set of rooms and worthy of the King’s mistress.
‘There are rooms on the ground floor of the north wing . . .’
His eyes seemed to glitter as they met hers. He knew the rooms to which she referred. Madame de Montespan had occupied them when she had ceased to be the reigning favourite of his great-grandfather, Louis Quatorze.
He remembered that his great-grandfather had allotted that apartment to Madame de Moutespan when he had married Madame de Maintenon.
The eyes of the Marquise were pleading with him; they were wise, serene and very loving.
How like her to act with such delicacy! He understood perfectly.
She was resigning her place as mistress because she knew she could not adequately fill it. She wanted to devote her days to his comfort and her nights to the rest she so desperately needed.
Indeed she was a wonderful woman – so wonderful that she made virtues of her inadequacies.
He was excited. The pretty little waiting-girl who did not know he was the King could be dismissed from the Palace with a present which would be more than she could earn in a lifetime. It would all be discreet and sedate; he could trust the Marquise to arrange that.
What a situation! Who but the Marquise could have conjured up something which was so necessary to them both and planned it with such finesse? Who but the Marquise could have brought about such an exciting and amusing state of affairs?
Nothing could have drawn him out of his mood of brooding melancholy more quickly than this little plan of Madame de Pompadour’s.
He took her hand and kissed it. His eyes were shining with amusement.
‘My dear,
‘Come, I am going to have supper brought to us. I have a new maid – the prettiest creature you ever saw. I am eager for your opinion of her.’
‘My opinion?’
She laughed. ‘It is amusing, is it not – the King of France to give his opinion of a humble serving-maid? But . . . she is innocent at the moment, yet if ever I saw a wanton it is that girl.’ She rose and called to Madame du Hausset. ‘His Majesty is supping with me. We shall be alone. Is all ready?’
‘Yes, Madame.’
‘Then will Your Majesty come to the table? I have had it set in one of the anterooms. It would be more cosy there, I thought.’
‘You have a surprise for me,’ said the King. ‘My dear Marquise, it is so like you to seek to divert me.’
‘This little diversion meets your Majesty’s needs tonight rather than a grand entertainment. Moreover had I planned a masque or a play, Père Griffet would have railed against me more than ever.’
‘He has certainly brought an air of melancholy to us . . . but perhaps we need it.’
The Marquise had led him into the small room and they had sat down.
She signed to Madame du Hausset, and the serving-girl appeared.
The Marquise, watching intently, saw the immediate interest in the King’s face. She had known that this girl, with the peculiar mingling of innocence and sensuality, could not fail to inspire it. She had chosen wisely. So far her plan could succeed, but she must act with the utmost wariness. Madame de Pompadour must retain her dignity. She must not appear as the King’s pander. Everything that followed must be gracious and performed with the utmost delicacy.
The girl showed no awe of the King. She bent over him as she served him; she smiled her innocent yet sensual smile. Louis patted her arm and the Marquise noticed that his hands lingered on the girl.
When she had gone, the Marquise said: ‘You must forgive her. She does not know who you are. She has never been to Versailles before. Louis, I am going to ask a favour.’
‘It is granted,’ he told her.
‘You would say that before you have heard what it is?’
‘My wish is to please you. I sincerely hope that it will be in my power to grant this favour.’
‘I wish to leave this apartment.’
He was surprised. They had planned its decorations together; it was a delightful set of rooms and worthy of the King’s mistress.
‘There are rooms on the ground floor of the north wing . . .’
His eyes seemed to glitter as they met hers. He knew the rooms to which she referred. Madame de Montespan had occupied them when she had ceased to be the reigning favourite of his great-grandfather, Louis Quatorze.
He remembered that his great-grandfather had allotted that apartment to Madame de Moutespan when he had married Madame de Maintenon.
The eyes of the Marquise were pleading with him; they were wise, serene and very loving.
How like her to act with such delicacy! He understood perfectly.
She was resigning her place as mistress because she knew she could not adequately fill it. She wanted to devote her days to his comfort and her nights to the rest she so desperately needed.
Indeed she was a wonderful woman – so wonderful that she made virtues of her inadequacies.
He was excited. The pretty little waiting-girl who did not know he was the King could be dismissed from the Palace with a present which would be more than she could earn in a lifetime. It would all be discreet and sedate; he could trust the Marquise to arrange that.
What a situation! Who but the Marquise could have conjured up something which was so necessary to them both and planned it with such finesse? Who but the Marquise could have brought about such an exciting and amusing state of affairs?
Nothing could have drawn him out of his mood of brooding melancholy more quickly than this little plan of Madame de Pompadour’s.
He took her hand and kissed it. His eyes were shining with amusement.
‘My dear,
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