“It has been so difficult to speak with Madame,” said de Guiche. “Usually the King is at her side. I am delighted to have this opportunity.”
“The part you played in the ballet was considerable, Comte. You were a great success.”
“I shall treasure such praise, coming whence it does.”
“You have an air of melancholy. You have not quarreled with Monsieur, have you?”
“No, Madame.”
“Then is anything amiss?”
“Amiss, Madame? I am the victim of a hopeless passion. I love a lady, the most delightful in the Court, and I have no hope that my passion will ever be returned.”
“I am sorry to hear that. I did not know you cared for ladies.”
“I never did until I saw this one.”
“I am sorry she will have none of you. Have you courted her long?”
“I have seen her often, but there has been little opportunity for courtship. She is far above me. She is elegant; she is slender; and she is quite different from the plump beauties of the Court.”
Henriette smiled. “Then I can only wish you the good fortune of falling out of love, since you cannot win this woman. Now, Monsieur le Comte, will you conduct me to the King? I wish to hear whether he himself is satisfied with our entertainment.”
She was thinking: I cannot bear to be away from him. He has shown the arranged interest in La Vallière, and I mine in de Guiche; we have done our duty for this night, and we must not break away too suddenly.
She noticed how Louis’ face lighted as she approached, and in that moment Fontainebleau was a very happy place for Henriette.
Philippe faced his friend and demanded an explanation of his conduct. “You … flirting with Madame! What means this?”
“You have been misinformed.”
“My eyes do not misinform me. I saw you. You were mincing along beside her, complimenting her like a young fop bent on seduction!”
“Does Monsieur think Madame would look my way?”
“It appears that she did.”
“Only because …”
“Never mind why she smiled on you! Why did you smile on her?”
“She is enchanting.”
“Armand!”
“Of what use to deny it?” said the Comte. “Of course I am in love with Madame. I was in love with her before anyone else saw how delightful she really was. I have always watched her; I have always understood her … known more of her than anyone….”
“How dare you stand there and tell me you love my wife … you who are my friend!”
“Monsieur … Philippe … I am sorry. I love you. I have loved you since we were boys. This is different. It should not come between us. You, as her husband, should understand that.”
“What has that to do with you and me?”
“You know her … how charming she is. I feel that I have helped to make her what she is today. I have helped to tear away that shyness, that gaucherie … but to me, even that was charming.”
“Armand! I will not have you talk thus before me. Do not imagine that my favor is for you alone. There are others who would be only too ready to take your place in my affections. You may go away for all I care. And, in fact, if you are thinking of making love to Henriette, go you certainly shall! Do not imagine you can make me jealous by preferring my wife!”
De Guiche threw up his hands in a gesture of despair. “I see this is an impossible situation. I shall leave the Court, I shall go to the country. I cannot stay here any longer.”
“Then go!” cried Philippe. “I have other friends to fill your place.”
So Armand de Guiche retired to the country, and all the Court whispered that he did so because Monsieur had discovered his love for Madame.
Louis had kept his part of the bargain. He had sought out the little Vallière. He enjoyed being kind to her because she was such a frightened little thing and overawed to have the attention of the King focused upon herself. She could not understand why, until other maids of honor told her that he was falling in love with her.
“It is impossible!” cried the little Vallière. “The King would never fall in love with me, when there are so many beauties of the Court all sighing for him.”
But Louis continued to seek her out. He would be by her side when the Court rode together; he would join in the dance with her, for she was present at those informal occasions at Fontainbleau; he would say: “Come, Mademoiselle de la Vallière, come and watch the piquet.”
Sometimes he himself would play, and when everything he did was applauded, La Vallière would clasp her hands together and her big brown eyes would be wide with adoration.
Louis thought: Poor child! She seeks too much to please. Oh, Henriette, if we could but be together! If only you were with me now!
The Queen was near her time. She spent much of the day lying in bed playing cards, in which she took great delight, still eating a great deal—far too much, it was said, for the good of the child.
Louis visited her as rarely as he could without calling attention to the fact that she bored him.
His mother was delighted because he was no longer constantly in the company of Henriette. She did not appear in public as frequently as before; she was content to leave state matters to Louis and his ministers. Like her daughter-in-law, her chief interest was in food and cards, although she had a love of the theater; she was content to keep certain ladies with her to gossip in her ruelle every night and bring her the latest scandals.
It was evening, and Louis was strolling through the grounds of Versailles with a little party of noblemen and ladies. Among the group was La Vallière.
The conversation was by no means profound; there were no literary allusions as there would doubtless have been had Henriette been present. The jokes were trivial and obvious, and everything the King said was greeted with hilarious laughter. He felt a longing to have Henriette beside him, to be free of these empty-headed sycophants.
Then he looked into the face of La Vallière who was close beside him. He knew that she was in love with him, and he was moved because of the sincerity of this young girl who could not hide her devotion; she was like a young fawn, fascinated yet apprehensive.
Louis realized that he had been faithful to Henriette ever since he had discovered that he loved her. He had had no mistress since then, and from those days when Madame de Beauvais had initiated him into the pleasure of the doux scavoir such delights had been a frequent need. He felt sexual desire upon him then like thirst in the desert or hunger after a long fast. It came to him as he stood there in the scented gardens with La Vallière beside him.
He looked at the girl, and felt pity for her. Pity! He had first felt that for Henriette, and in some ways this girl reminded him of Henriette—not as she was now, not Madame, but the shy Princess Henriette with whom he had once refused to dance.
He was unaware of the silence which had fallen about him, his large eyes had become a little glazed, and he was still looking at La Vallière.
He said, and although his voice sounded normal to him, it seemed to those about him—accustomed as they were to anticipating his moods—that it held a note of high-pitched excitement: “Mademoiselle de la Vallière, have you seen the new summer house I have had built near the ornamental grotto?”
La Vallière stammered, as she always did when directly addressed by the King: “N-no, Sire. Why … yes … I believe I have, Sire.” “Then let us go and make sure that you have.”
By the time they reached the grotto the party which had accompanied them had lingered here and there, and there was none left but La Vallière and her King. They went through into the new summer house where were set out gilded chairs and a velvet-covered couch—scarlet, and decorated with golden fleurs-de-lis.
“So … you see it now,” he said, and taking her hands he drew her to him and kissed her.
La Vallière trembled. The frightened fawn … the eager fawn … thought Louis. It is Henriette whom I love, but she is my brother’s wife, and this timid little Vallière is so eager to be loved.
Armand de Guiche soon returned to the Court. He found that his longing to see Henriette forced him to return. So he asked Philippe’s pardon, which was graciously accorded him, and he became again the close friend of Henriette’s husband in order that he might not be banished from Henriette’s presence.
Henriette had an opportunity to speak a few words in private with the King while they danced together.
She said: “So we have produced the desired effect. There is talk of you and the little Vallière.”
“Is that so?” said Louis.
“And I have heard my name is mentioned with that of de Guiche.”
“I like that not,” said Louis.
“Nor do I like to hear it said that you are in love with La Vallière.”
“You could not believe that I would love anyone now … that I ever could, after I came to love you!”
“I hope not, Louis. I hope your love for me is like mine for you.”
“Mine is infinite,” declared the King; but he avoided meeting her eyes. He wished that he had not fallen into temptation with La Vallière. He wished that he did not keep remembering her little fluttering hands, her cries of protest and pleasure.
It should not happen again; he had promised himself that. He had not meant it to happen that second or third time, but it had been almost impossible to avoid it; she was so ready, so shy, so adoring. It would have been churlish not to. It was not love he had for the little one, he assured himself; it was pity … and the desire to honor her.
Henriette said: “Armand de Guiche came to my rooms this day, disguised as a fortune-teller. He is very bold. I had forbidden him to come near me. I thought there had been enough scandal, and I had no wish for more. Montalais, one of my maids of honor, came to me and said there was a teller of fortunes without, who had great things to tell me; and when I had him brought in I discovered it was de Guiche. I recognized him when he raised those mournful eyes to my face. I sent him off at once. I was thankful that none of the others present knew who my fortune-teller was.”
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