The Road to Compiegne Read Online Free PDF Page B

servants, bowing low, disappeared. They knew of the King’s interest in the kitchens and they guessed that he was going to prepare coffee.
    When they had drunk the coffee and Madame du Hausset had left them they studied plans for a Hermitage which they were to build at Fontainebleau. They had recently built one at Versailles, but the Marquise thought it would be an excellent idea to add to this new Hermitage a poultry house and a dairy.
    The King was pleased with the idea and told her that he was thinking of designing a livery for her servants here at Bellevue, as he had for those at Crecy.
    The Marquise was delighted for, while he showed such absorption in her affairs, he must feel as affectionate towards her as he ever had.
    Afterwards they wandered into the gardens when he expressed a desire to see a new statue which had been erected since his last visit.
    The Marquise felt relaxed and happy in the sunshine. Now she had no doubt that she held the King, for surely the pleasant hours they had spent together this afternoon meant more to him than fleeting sexual satisfaction. That he could find in profusion; but where in his Kingdom could he find a friend, a companion who would devote herself to his interests as slavishly as did the Marquise de Pompadour?
    She felt intoxicated by the warm scented atmosphere and her sense of achievement. She decided that afternoon to have Alexandrine betrothed to the boy who had been invited to play with her. She could be sure that such a betrothal would make the future of Alexandrine secure, because the boy was none other than the King’s own son by Madame de Vintimille, for whom he was said to have had as much affection as he had ever had for any woman.
    The Marquise could feel an odd envy of the Duchesse de Vintimille, who had come stormily into the King’s life, dominated it, and died before one jot of her power had waned.
    Even now Louis spoke of her with some emotion. It was so much easier to reign supreme for a short period than to try to hold a position for many years. Would Madame de Vintimille have been as successful as the Marquise if she had not died in childbirth?
    They were strolling on the terraces when they saw the children. Obeying instructions, neither Alexandrine nor her companion appeared to notice them.
    The Marquise was aware of Louis’ eyes on the boy. Was that tenderness for the child or for his dead mother?
    ‘I fear,’ she said with a little laugh, ‘that they have failed to realise they are in the presence of royalty. Shall I call them to order?’
    ‘Let them play,’ said Louis.
    ‘Do they not make a charming pair, the handsome little Comte de Luc and my own not quite so handsome Alexandrine?’
    ‘They are charming,’ agreed the King. ‘And clearly absorbed in each other.’
    ‘I wonder if they will continue, all their lives, to be so aware of each other that they are not conscious of the presence of others? I could hope so.’
    The King was silent. Anxiety touched the Marquise. Was this after all the moment to pursue the subject? Was she coming near to irritating the King?
    ‘I have a fondness for the young Comte,’ she said. ‘His appearance delights me.’
    The King did not smile, and she was not sure whether he understood her meaning. His illegitimate son was amazingly like him; there were the same deep blue eyes, the auburn curls. Louis at ten must have looked very like young Monsieur de Vintimille, the Comte de Luc.
    The Marquise continued: ‘He is so like his father.’
    The King stopped. His brows were drawn together. Was it against the light or was it a frown? Then he spoke. ‘His father?’ he said. ‘Did you then know Monsieur de Vintimille well?’
    It was as though a cold wind had suddenly sprung up to spoil the warm sunshine of the peaceful gardens. Fear touched the Marquise. She had irritated the King. He was not going to accept the boy as his son; he was not prepared to discuss the desirability of a marriage between him and